"Says who?"

Wynter looked up, stunned. It was the first time she'd seen Pearce nude in full light. Her hands and mouth and body knew the softness, the curves and planes, of Pearce's form. They were indelibly marked on her consciousness. But now she could see the delicate arch of her collarbones, the teasing sway of her breasts, and the tight inviting curve of her abdomen as it swept down to the bend in her thighs. Trembling, she touched the pale white line in the center of Pearce's lower lip. "It's a good thing I ran into you. Without this tiny scar, I'd worry that you weren't human. You're almost too beautiful to look at."

Shaking her head, Pearce leaned down and kissed Wynter on the mouth, then the angle of her jaw, then her neck. "Should I worry that your judgment seems to be impaired, considering that you're on call for my service today?"

"I should've kissed you four years ago."

Pearce released Wynter's hands and pulled her up until they sat facing one another, her hips between Wynter's spread legs, her knees bent over Wynter's thighs. She clasped her lightly around the waist.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to. Because I wanted you."

"Did you ever think you were--"

"No," Wynter said with a sigh, resting her cheek on Pearce's shoulder, her hands on Pearce's thighs. "And I don't know why, except by the time I had a chance to think about the fact that my life wasn't going the way I wanted it to go, I was already married. And when I saw you that first time, Ronnie was coming."

"Just because you slept with me last night doesn't mean you're--"

"Don't." Wynter lifted her head. "Don't try to convince me that what I'm feeling is an accident."

Pearce swept her fingers through Wynter's hair, then lifted it as it flowed over the back of her hand and kissed Wynter's neck just above the angle of her shoulder. "I wasn't trying to. But it's a big change."

"Not a change. A discovery." Wynter clasped the back of Pearce's neck, pressing Pearce's mouth harder against her skin. "I love your mouth on me. I love your hands on me. I love your hands inside of me."

She moaned as Pearce's teeth closed on the muscle in her neck. "What do you think that says about me?" She squeezed Pearce's neck harder and whispered, "Suck me."

Gasping at the small point of pain, Wynter dropped her head back, urging Pearce on. "I love the way you get wet for me. I love how hard your nipples are when you're excited. I love feeling you come when I touch you. When I touch you." She moaned. "God, that feels so good."

Pearce pulled away, her chest heaving. "Fuck. You make me so crazy, I don't know what I'm doing half the time." Tenderly, she kissed the mark she had left. "Sorry."

"I'm just sorry we don't have time for more." Wynter kissed her hungrily, thrusting her tongue into Pearce's mouth, then pulling away just as abruptly. "I want you so much right now."

"We can't go back," Pearce said, running her thumb over Wynter's mouth. "And we can't make up for lost time overnight." She grinned.

"I'm not entirely certain I can even walk."

Wynter smiled, her lips full and flushed with arousal. "Good."

With a sudden powerful thrust of her hips, she dislodged Pearce, who landed on her back on the bed with a surprised grunt. "Go shower. If we're late for rounds, the senior resident will be pissed."

"Tease!" Pearce made a grab for her. "The senior resident's already pissed."

Laughing, Wynter rolled off the bed and danced out of reach.

"Then I guess it's a good thing you can't run."


CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Pearce carried her coffee to the round table in the far corner of the cafeteria where Wynter waited with Bruce, who had been on call Saturday night. Wynter looked up and smiled at her, and Pearce felt a flutter in her chest. She grinned, her eyes traveling from Wynter's face down her body. She frowned when she saw the bruise low on Wynter's neck, exposed by the vee of her scrub shirt. She raised her eyebrows and tugged at her own shirt, mimicking covering part of her throat. Wynter blushed and adjusted hers. Remembering exactly how that bruise had gotten there, Pearce had to admit to a small surge of pleasure. As she sat down, she saw Bruce staring at her with a pensive expression on his face. She met his eyes and held them until he looked away. Then she took her list from her shirt pocket, unfolded it carefully, and set it in front of her. "Okay. From the top."

After they'd run the list of patients and Bruce had left for home, she and Wynter were the only ones remaining at the table. "Tired?"

"A little." Wynter smiled. "Good tired."

"Hopefully today will be slow and you'll have a chance to catch a little sleep."

"Are there any admissions this afternoon?" In recent years, insurance companies had revamped their reimbursement scale to force physicians to bring patients into the hospital on the day of surgery rather than admitting them the afternoon before and keeping them overnight prior to their procedures. When previously there had been a dozen or more patients admitted to the hospital in the afternoon for surgery the next day, now there often were none.

"We're still expecting the transfer from Harrisburg that was supposed to come in yesterday morning. If the bed situation has eased up, she'll probably show up this afternoon."

"The one with the leaking anastomosis?"

"Right."

Wynter looked down at her list. "She's coming to your father, right?"

Pearce nodded.

"Do you think he'll want to operate tonight?"

"It depends on how she looks." Pearce finished her coffee and rolled the cup between her palms. "He's got five cases scheduled for tomorrow. If it looks like she's going to need to go, he'll do it tonight so as not to back up tomorrow. If she looks like she'll hold off a couple of days, he might wait until Tuesday."

"If her surgery was six days ago and they think she's leaking, she's not going to hold for another couple of days. I'll get another CAT scan as soon as she arrives and get started on the preop tests."

"Page me when she comes in."

"It's not necessary. You're off today and--"

"She's a new admission to the service. I have to see her." Pearce set her cup down. "You can call him with your assessment. I won't get in your way over it."

"I know," Wynter said gently. "I just thought I could give you a break."

"It's okay. I feel fine."

"I guess you're used to all-night recreational activities," Wynter said with the barest hint of sarcasm. She couldn't help thinking of the appreciative looks cast in Pearce's direction by more than one woman.

Pearce studied Wynter, her expression placid. "It's probably good that we're sitting in the cafeteria on opposite sides of the table.

Otherwise, I'd be tempted to kiss you. You're very sexy when you're jealous."

"I'm not jealous!"

Pearce grinned.

"I'm not." Annoyed because it was true and Pearce had noticed, Wynter retorted without thinking, "I suppose you think I've never stayed up all night screwing before?" The instant she said it, she regretted it, especially when she saw Pearce's eyes darken and her jaw set hard.

"Pearce--"

"I'll be on my beeper if you need me." Pearce pushed her chair back and stood.

"Please don't go. I'm sorry. That was thoughtless."

"No, I'm sure it's true. I do know where babies come from."

"Damn it," Wynter seethed, looking around the room, aware of their fellow residents everywhere. She couldn't chase her without creating a scene. "Please. Five minutes."

Pearce wanted to walk away. Wynter was like no woman in her experience. She was used to wild sex with wild women who were unfettered or, at the very least, unconcerned about their attachments.

She'd never been jealous of who else they were sleeping with and definitely had never cared about anyone in their past. Since the moment she'd learned that Wynter was married, she'd steadfastly refused to think about it. Now that she'd touched her, held her, made love to her, thinking about her being with someone else incensed her. She knew it was crazy, and she couldn't stop. She took a breath. "Look. It's okay.

You don't have anything to explain to me."

"If you don't sit down, everyone in this room is going to hear that you're the best lay I've ever had."

"Uh..." Pearce coughed and her mind went blank. She did the only thing possible. She pulled out the chair and sat back down.

Wynter leaned forward, her eyes fierce. "Do you remember what I said to you this morning? About how I felt when you touched me? When I touched you?"

Pearce swallowed. Her head was buzzing. "Wynter--"

"Be quiet and listen. I can't think of any way to say this that doesn't sound like a cliché, but it's true. I've never been so present, so much myself, as I was with you last night. That means everything to me."

Me too. Pearce knew it, and she had no idea what to do with that fact. She shook her head, barely recognizing herself. "You must think I'm nuts, going off about something that's already over."

Wynter smiled. "No, not really. I think you're sexy when you're jealous."

"Ha." Pearce felt the tightness in her chest ease. That means everything to me. She'd been told some pretty outrageous things by more than a few women after a night of passion, but nothing anyone else had ever said to her had made her feel quite so good. "So how about I drop by later on today, see the new admission, and take you to din--"

"Damn," Wynter muttered as she looked down at the readout on her beeper. She looked up as Pearce's beeper went off and when she saw the grim set of her face, she knew. "The chief?"

"Yeah." Pearce stood. "You too?"

Wynter nodded. "You don't think--"

"There's no way he'd know, and even if he did, as long as it didn't interfere with work, it wouldn't be a problem." She smiled and wished she could take Wynter's hand. "Come on. Let's go see what he wants."

Taking a breath to settle herself, Wynter nodded. "Aye aye, Chief."

At Pearce's grin, she added, "And don't get too used to that."

v The surgery offices were deserted at 8:00 a.m. on Sunday. The door to Ambrose Rifkin's personal office stood open beyond the large partitioned area where his secretary usually protected his domain.

Despite the open door, Pearce knocked.

"Come."

Ambrose Rifkin, dressed in scrubs, reclined behind his desk with his leather chair tilted back and a file folder balanced on his knee.

Despite his casual demeanor, neither Pearce nor Wynter spoke until he finished making a note in the margin of one of the chart pages, closed the folder, and dropped it onto his desk. He sat forward and looked from one to the other.

"Please sit down."

Pearce and Wynter took the adjoining chairs in front of his desk.

"I just spoke to Tom Larson in Harrisburg. The patient's on her way and should be here within the hour. Let's get her directly to CAT scan from the ER. The OR is standing by."

"I could've taken care of that, sir," Pearce said quietly.

"I was here." His tone of voice implied that Pearce should have been as well.

She said nothing.

He leaned back slightly and regarded Wynter. In a conversational tone of voice, he said, "Fifty years ago, there were very few general surgical subspecialties. At the time, Isaac Rifkin was the chairman of surgery, and one morning he assembled his senior residents in his office." He glanced at a framed photo on the far wall that showed six men in white lab coats standing in front of one of the older buildings in the hospital complex.

Wynter followed his gaze. She didn't recognize any of them.

"He had evaluated his people, and he not only recognized their talents, but he predicted the future of surgery. He sent one to France to study with a noted cranial-facial surgeon. That resident would return and become the first chief of plastic surgery. He sent another to St.

Louis to work with a very gifted general surgeon whose practice was all pediatric in nature. That resident would return to establish the Children's Hospital. He named another to train in vascular surgery, another in cancer, and so on." He moved his hand across his blotter, as if indicating the world beneath his fingertips, and then he looked at Wynter. "Tom Larson tells me that his chief resident just took six months' leave for...health reasons. The slot is open, and he doesn't have anyone experienced enough to fill it."