LITMIR.BIZ

       Tamara emerged from the hospital to find Victor sitting astride a gleaming black-and-silver motorcycle. His long legs were covered in dark Levi’s that stretched taut across his strong, muscular thighs.

      Her mouth ran dry. “Victor.”

      “Hey, beautiful,” he murmured. “Want a ride?”

      She wanted a ride all right, but not necessarily the kind he was offering. She’d thought he couldn’t look any sexier than he did in his scrubs, but damn, was she wrong. He looked hot as hell on his Harley, straddling the powerful bike with an innate, dangerous-edged masculinity that sent her hormones into overdrive. She wanted to hop onto the seat with him, thrust her breasts into his face and wrap her legs around his back.

      “Let me give you a ride home.”

      She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “That’s okay. I can walk.”

      “Why walk,” he drawled, “when you can ride?”

      Her bones turned to gelatin. “I only live fifteen minutes away.”

      “I’ll get you there in five.”

      She glanced pointedly at the black helmet dangling from the motorcycle’s handlebar. “You don’t have one of those for me.”

      “Actually,” he said, reaching inside a compartment next to the gas tank and producing another helmet, “I do.” He held her gaze. “So let me take you home.”

      Tamara wavered, biting her lower lip.

      “Get on, cariño.” His voice dropped an octave, going indecently husky. “You know you want to.”

      Dear Reader,

      I hope you’ve been enjoying the Hopewell General continuity series.

      In the third installment, Romancing the M.D., the scandal and drama continue with the story of rival interns Victor and Tamara. These brilliant cardiac surgeons share a sizzling attraction that they have been fighting for months. But even as they find themselves competing for the same research grant, they’re already losing their hearts to each other… .

      It was fun for me to revisit Alexandria, Virginia, the setting for the fictitious Hopewell General Hospital. I grew up near Alexandria and worked in that lovely, historic city for three years. Victor and Tamara are about to create their own special memories there … if they don’t kill each other first!

      As always, please share your thoughts with me at [email protected].

      Until next time, happy reading!

      Maureen Smith

       Romancing the M.D. Glossary of Spanish Terms

      Me importa un carajo—I don’t give a damn

      Vete al carajo—Go to hell

      Cariño—Sweetheart (term of endearment)

      Gracias—Thank you

      Muchas gracias—Thank you very much

      De nada—You’re welcome

      Mierda—Shit

      Maldito sea—Damn it

      Carajo—Damn it

      Pendejo—Jerk

      Vámos corre rápido—Let’s go, run fast

      Hermanote—affectionate nickname for an older brother (variant of hermano)

      Culo—Ass

      Muy bonita—Very beautiful

      Mijo/mija—My son/my daughter

      Papito—Daddy (often used as a Colombian term of endearment for sons)

      Tía—Aunt

      Apellido—Last name

      Mira—Look

      Bésame—Kiss me

      Te necesito—I need you

      Te adoro—I adore you

      Te amo—I love you

      No puedo vivir sin ti—I can’t live without you

      Quiero estar contigo para siempre—I want to be with you forever

      Romancing

      the M. D.

      Maureen

      Smith

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      Special thanks and acknowledgment

      are given to Maureen Smith for her contribution

      to the Hopewell General miniseries.

      For the men and women everywhere who have devoted their lives to healing others.

      My utmost gratitude to Zora Bilicich, who patiently answered

      my questions about her native Colombia and provided the

      Spanish translations for this book.

      A heartfelt thanks to Sylvia Hightower, R.N., my go-to expert on all things medical.

      Chapter 1

      Dr. Tamara St. John was feeling murderous.

      It was too bad she’d taken an oath to do no harm. Otherwise, Victor Aguilar García would be a dead man. A gorgeous one, but a corpse nevertheless.

      They squared off in the hallway outside the room of a patient who’d been readmitted to the hospital after developing a postoperative wound infection. The two interns had struck combative poses, hands on hips, lab coats spread open as they argued with each other. Tamara hated that Victor’s six-two frame forced her to angle her head back to meet his flashing gaze, and she hated that the dark blue color of his eyes reminded her of the most beautiful sapphire she’d ever seen.

      “You’re not listening to me,” he said, the words gritted through straight white teeth. “Naphtomycin—”

      “—is still in the clinical trial stage,” Tamara interrupted sharply. “So that means the jury’s still out on the drug’s safety and effectiveness. Unlike you, I don’t like hedging my bets on a wildcard. I think we need to administer another course of antibiotics—”

      “Because that’s been working so well, right?” Victor countered mockingly.

      Tamara bristled. “Let’s not forget that this is my patient—”

      “—who’s been readmitted twice for a postoperative sternal wound that won’t heal. It’s time to pursue more aggressive treatment

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