In His Corner

By Vina Arno

Work Out
No sex for almost a year could kill a guy, but when you’re the boxer known as the Juggernaut, it’s the price you pay for turning pro. Tommy’s fully dedicated to his craft, until he meets the incredibly gorgeous Dr. Siena Carr. Now he’s looking forward to taking on this prim and proper lady in a wet and wild work-out…
Knock Out
Siena has seen many patients come through the ER, but none as sexy as Tommy Raines. With a nasty cut over his eye, she knows he needs stitches, but after he takes off his shirt, she needs some air. With rock-hard abs and taut biceps, it’s clear this man takes care of his body. And all Siena can think about is letting him take care of hers…
41,957 Words

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lyrical Press
• Release date: Apr 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781616506728

Vina Arno

Vina Arno was born and raised in Manila. She has worked as a journalist in the Philippines, Taiwan, and the United States. She has a master’s degree in journalism from Ohio State University. Her short stories have been published in Snake Nation Review, Copperfield Review, and SN Review.

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WORK OUT

No sex for almost a year could kill a guy, but when you’re the boxer known as the Juggernaut, it’s the price you pay for turning pro. Tommy’s fully dedicated to his craft, until he meets the incredibly gorgeous Dr. Siena Carr. Now he’s looking forward to taking on this prim and proper lady in a wet and wild work-out…

KNOCK OUT

Siena has seen many patients come through the ER, but none as sexy as Tommy Raines. With a nasty cut over his eye, she knows he needs stitches, but after he takes off his shirt, she needs some air. With rock-hard abs and taut biceps, it’s clear this man takes care of his body. And all Siena can think about is letting him take care of hers…

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Books by Vina Arno

In His Corner

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

In His Corner

Vina Arno

LYRICAL PRESS

Kensington Publishing Corp.

www.kensingtonbooks.com

Copyright

Lyrical Press books are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

Copyright © 2014 by Vina Arno

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

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Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.

First Electronic Edition: April 2015

eISBN-13: 978-1-61650-672-8

eISBN-10: 1-61650-672-5

Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

To Corinne DeMaagd, my extraordinary editor. To paraphrase the Juggernaut, I lucked out in the Wheel of Fortune of editors.

Chapter 1

He walked into the Emergency Department as if he owned it. Dr. Siena Carr was struck by his swagger—part gigolo and part caveman. Total alpha male. Even the automatic doors swooned at the sight of him, making a sighing sound as they closed behind.

She stood at the back of the receptionist’s counter, cradling the phone receiver between her ear and her shoulder, the ringing phone on the other end of the line forgotten as he approached.

His appearance screamed tough guy: torn jeans and faded hoodie, tall build—around six feet—broad shoulders, and cropped dark hair, like he had just gotten out of a military boot camp. Although he was clean-shaven, his lips were raw and swollen. And he had a bloody gauze bandage above his left eye.

Stitches. He had a nasty cut that would require stitching. His face was battered, and yet handsome, dangerously so. Like he was up to no good.

I need a doctor, he told Nancy, the ED clerk.

His voice was gruff, a tad loud, considering he was the only patient at the counter. At seven in the evening on Tuesday, the ED at the Golden State Medical Center was almost deserted. The peak hour on weekdays was around one in the afternoon. More than a dozen people had arrived at the same time that day, their complaints ranging from food poisoning to flu-like symptoms to kidney stones. Siena had been tied up until five. There was usually a lull in the evening before it got busy again late at night.

Nancy bolted up from her chair. She gave him a clipboard, a pen, and a form to fill out. He murmured a thank you and displayed his alpha-male strut once more as he proceeded to the waiting area.

The man must have come in by mistake. Golden State was a private hospital in the affluent neighborhood of Pacific Heights in San Francisco. Patients who were rushed here included yuppie women delivering premature babies, wealthy middle-aged men suffering from dehydration after running the San Francisco Marathon, and spoiled brats who were injured after crashing their parents’ Jaguars. A CAT scan cost more than nine thousand dollars. It was not the hospital for brawlers or the uninsured, which this guy could very well be, judging by his clothes and facial injuries.

Nancy turned to Siena, mouthing, Oh, my God!

Siena put the phone receiver down. Her mentor, Dr. Helen Liu, hadn’t answered her call. She approached the clerk. What’s going on?

Oh, my God! That’s the Juggernaut!

The what?

The Juggernaut! He’s sooo cute. Nancy, who was in her late forties, was behaving like a starstruck teenager.

He looks like Scarface, not a juggernaut.

"He’s more handsome in person than his pictures in Sports Illustrated."

"Sports Illustrated? That guy?"

Oh, Dr. Carr, really. Nancy curled her lips into a frown. "The Juggernaut was all over the place last summer—Sports Illustrated, ESPN, CNN, all the newspapers. He was the first American boxer to win a gold medal at the Olympics in twelve years. He seriously kicked some butts in London. He’s famous for his brutal knockouts. That’s why he’s called the Juggernaut. He won the Global Amateur Boxing championship when he was just nineteen years old. Can you imagine that?"

No, Siena couldn’t. She was clueless about boxing or any kind of sport.

After the Olympics, he began training full time because he’s turning pro. He has an upcoming fight in Las Vegas. A huge deal. We’re talking a one-million-dollar purse and full pay-per-view coverage—the whole nine yards. It’s all over the news. Didn’t you know that?

Siena shook her head. Was she supposed to? As if reading her mind, Nancy continued, The Juggernaut is our homegrown superstar. Everybody in San Francisco is rooting for him.

Everybody but Siena. She was an East Coast transplant, who was still learning new things about her adopted city after six years of living there. I didn’t know you were so interested in boxing.

Not so much boxing, but the Juggernaut, himself. Everybody in this town loves him, and I’m just like everybody.

Siena glanced at her wristwatch and sighed. Did he have to come here fifty minutes before my shift ends? He could have gone to San Francisco General.

As an ED attending physician, a ten-hour shift was common. Between her job and her volunteer activities, she’d been working twelve hours every day the past week. She was exhausted.

I think it’s a blessing in disguise that he came here, said Nancy. The Juggernaut is hot, and his Facebook relationship status shows he’s single. You know what I mean? She flapped a hand to fan herself, emphasizing just how much he sizzled.

Siena arched an eyebrow. Was Nancy implying that Siena was on the prowl? Did Nancy know she was newly single? She let it slide. I’m going to try Dr. Liu again. Ask a triage nurse to prep him. I’ll take a look at him in ten minutes.

Nancy nodded, but her mind seemed to be on something else. She gave the doctor an admiring look. You have the loveliest complexion, just like porcelain. You can get away without makeup. Lucky for you.

It was enough to make Siena self-conscious. Do I look too pale? She was indoors most of the time, while the summer whizzed by. She ran her fingers through her hair. Her layers could use a trim, if only she had the time for a haircut.

I said porcelain, not pale. I’m complimenting you. You look gorgeous. Those beauty spots look precious. Like Marilyn Monroe, you know. Mark my word—the Juggernaut will go gaga over you. She pinched Siena’s arm in a playful manner.

Nancy’s effort at matchmaker was not only inappropriate, but unappreciated. Siena didn’t know how to say it without sounding rude. She was fond of Nancy, so she bit her tongue.

I’m teasing, Dr. Carr.

I can see that.

She made the phone call, finally getting hold of her mentor. They agreed to meet for coffee the next day, to talk about Siena’s interest in a research job in New York.

She strode inside the emergency room, just as the nurse, Jonah, was leaving. He handed her the patient’s clipboard. I cleaned up his cut and administered local anesthesia. He got injured while sparring about forty-five minutes ago. He’s all yours, Dr. Carr. Jonah winked, which gave Siena pause. Did everyone at the hospital think she was looking for a boyfriend?

Jonah’s reaction reinforced the nagging feeling that everyone knew about her breakup. It was impossible to hide it since Dr. Michael Feldman also worked at the same hospital. How irritating that people were gossiping about her love life. She went straight to the sink, her back to the patient. She dropped the clipboard on the counter and washed her hands. When she turned around, she gasped. What are you doing?

The Juggernaut was undressing. Before she could say another word, he was naked. A glorious sight that sent her heart racing and her face burning. Did he know that he looked like a sculpture by Michelangelo? Except for the tattoo on his right shoulder, this man was David incarnate.

She looked away abruptly, grabbing the clipboard. She didn’t even know his name! She looked at his paperwork. Tommy Raines. Mr. Raines, please put on your clothes.

She continued scanning his form. Occupation: boxer. Age: twenty-two. Weight: 160 pounds. Height: six feet. Blood type: O positive. No pre-existing health conditions. His temperature and blood pressure were normal. Reason for ER visit: a cut sustained from sparring.

She faced him. Thank God, he was clothed again.

Sorry about that, he said. I thought you’re supposed to check me out.

Did he just say check him out? Mr. Raines, this is an ER, not a bar. I don’t check out patients. Do you mean to say check up?

He smiled. Yeah, check up.

I’m going to take care of your cut, but I’m not doing a checkup. If you need one, you should go to your primary care doctor.

I don’t like doctors. I avoid hospitals and clinics as much as possible, but my cut kept bleeding even after I showered. So here I am.

Doctors were, indeed, the last resort for macho guys who thought they were invincible. She didn’t need a vote of confidence, but a dose of tact would have been nice.

Please sit down. She pointed at the bed.

She crossed the room to pick up a pair of latex gloves from a cabinet. She drew a deep breath as she put them on. It was unnerving. First, Nancy and Jonah both insinuated that she was hunting for a boyfriend. Only five weeks after her breakup, she was as vulnerable as a gaping wound. Their teasing didn’t help. Second, this Juggernaut man had stripped in front of her, jarring her composure.

No matter. She turned around to face him. Well, let’s have a look at you.

You’re too young to be a doctor. He was sitting on the bed, his feet swinging.

Excuse me?

How old are you? He was appraising her from head to toe.

Her face bloomed with heat as her blood pressure rose. How rude! Mr. Raines, I graduated summa cum laude from Princeton University with a bachelor’s degree in biology. I graduated cum laude from UC San Francisco School of Medicine. I completed two years of residency training in emergency medicine at San Francisco General Hospital. I assure you I’m a bona fide, board-certified MD, and I’m more than qualified to treat you.

So, how old are you? His eyes were wide, curious, and childlike.

I just turned twenty-six. If you have a problem with that, then you can wait for Dr. Rowland. He’s about fifty years old. His shift begins at eight o’clock.

I didn’t mean to offend you. In fact, I’m very impressed. I’ve never met a doctor as young and beautiful as you are.

Oh. She drew back. Talk about overreacting.

It was standard operating procedure for the attending physician to question the patient. She should ask him how he got the cut, but the prospect of engaging him in a conversation was agitating. She picked up the clipboard again and stared at it. Nothing came to mind. Not one question. It was as if she’d walked into the wrong job. No one had ever made her this uncomfortable and uncertain in her own ER before. So, never mind that. The information in