Doctor Enemy

Doctor Enemy An Age Gap Billionaire Romance SUMMER JAMES This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Copyright © 2023 by Summer James All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law Contents 1. Chapter One Kurt 2. Chapter Two Lori 3. Chapter Three Kurt 4. Chapter Four Lori 5. Chapter Five Kurt 6. Chapter Six Lori 7. Chapter Seven Kurt 8. Chapter Eight Lori 9. Chapter Nine Kurt 10. Chapter Ten Lori 11. Chapter Eleven Kurt 12. Chapter Twelve Lori 13. Chapter Thirteen Kurt 14. Chapter Fourteen Lori 15. Chapter Fifteen Kurt 16. Chapter Sixteen Lori 17. Chapter Seventeen Kurt 18. Chapter Eighteen Lori 19. Chapter Nineteen Kurt 20. Chapter Twenty Lori 21. Chapter Twenty-One Kurt 22. Chapter Twenty-Two Lori 23. Chapter Twenty-Three Kurt 24. Chapter Twenty-Four Lori Epilogue Epilogue - Kurt Damaged Professor - Sneak Peek - Chapter One About the Author Chapter one Kurt A turbulent Seattle storm has doubled the hospitals' traffic tonight. Mercy General is always buzzing but tonight it's a goddamn shitshow. There have been countless accidents on the roads. There's only one on my mind though. Sawyer Green. He was brought in about four hours ago, after a devastating car accident. His friend had been driving, but Sawyer wasn't wearing a seat belt and was launched through the windshield. He’s been in critical condition since he arrived, having suffered a serious head wound. It would be a hard enough case, but the fact that Sawyer’s only seventeen makes it all the more difficult to try and swallow. “There you are.” Lori Lange’s voice cuts through the quiet of the doctors’ lounge. “Why did you cancel the order that I put in for the change in Sawyer’s medication?” “Because it would thin his blood too much, and that brain bleed would be even harder for me to fix,” I tell her, trying not to sound too impatient. It’s hard. Lori is a smart woman. She’s almost done with her residency as a pediatric surgeon but still, every case is personal to her. Her wrists are always decorated with bright-colored scrunchies, many of which have small, stuffed animal heads attached to them. They’re great to distract the younger children. And they often end up left behind on pudgy wrists in the form of friendship bracelets. And she’s fucking gorgeous—tall and thin, with bright green eyes and shiny black hair cut in a long bob that rests just below her collarbone. It’s just a damn shame that her personality leaves a lot to be desired. Lori reaches over the back of the couch and, as a result, her breast presses briefly to my shoulder, the heat of her skin is felt through the cotton of her scrubs. She grabs the remote, hits a button, and the TV cuts off. “I’m being serious. I put in for that change in prescription because it was important. You can’t just go behind my back and veto it because you think that you know better.” Speaking of a personality that needs work… “I do know better. I’m the senior surgeon on the kid’s case.” I don’t like throwing my position or age around. Being in my mid-forties means I have a few good years on a lot of the staff here, particularly the residents. And while that doesn't mean I know everything, age really does come with a wealth of experience. In this case, I’ve seen what happens when a brain bleed ends up on a blood thinner, no matter the doctor’s original intention. “That doesn’t mean shit,” Lori snaps, her brows creased in anger. She tosses the remote back down onto the table. The doctors’ lounge is a large room, set aside from the patient rooms and the other treatment rooms. The idea is that it’s a little place where we can go to rest and remember what it feels like to be human between rounds. The couch that I’m sitting on is comfortable and large, and the TV hanging from the wall normally displays a sports show of some sort. I had been watching wrestling, but I suppose that I’m not anymore. “Lori,” I say, firmly, and reach up to put a hand on her arm. My fingers barely brush over her skin before she jerks away from me. “I’m the senior on this case, and that means I have the final say in what treatment the kid gets.” “Stop calling him that. He has a name,” Lori says, hotly. My mouth pulls into a thin line. Despite the fact that Lori has the potential to be a great ped surgeon, she’s got an awful attitude. At least, she does when it comes to me. There hasn’t been a single time that we’ve worked together where she wasn’t determined to push back against literally everything that I had to say. It makes it hard to like her. Rather than saying anything, I lean forward, pick the remote up, and turn the wrestling match back on. It’s between Trifecta and the Captain. I don’t follow football or baseball or anything like that, but wrestling has enough substance to the characters that it almost feels like a violent soap opera. “You’re unbelievable.” Lori steps away from the couch and my gaze, very briefly, drops to her full breasts when she crosses her arms beneath them. “I’m putting the order back in.” “I’ll just veto it again.” This is getting ridiculous. She’s smart, but she’s still just a resident. “The brain bleed takes priority over the blood clot. If my patch job comes loose before the kid is strong enough to go back under the knife, then he’s a goner.” Lori insists, “And if the blood clot in his leg breaks loose, he’s not going to make it long enough to be under the knife