Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
My fondness for my profession can’t be missed in my tone.
It is exhausting, but the rewards to come will forever make up for that.
“I thought you were studying to be a surgeon?”
“I am,” I agree, my smile picking, knowing that he must have researched me like I did his family. “But the plan is to specialize in pediatric neurosurgery, so a few months in the pediatric ward will greatly assist with that plan.”
Dr. Sidorov thought he was punishing me for being ungrateful when he placed me on the ped’s roster. He couldn’t have been further from the mark. This has been my goal since I was ten.
“Why pediatrics?” Maksim asks, his tone genuinely interested.
I give him the answer I gave in my college admission assessment. “There is substantial inequity in survival outcomes for pediatric brain tumor patients residing in high-income areas compared to low-and middle-income areas. I want to change that.” I swallow to make sure my voice doesn’t crack with emotions when I realize how close to home my statement hits. “A patient’s care shouldn’t be based on the tax bracket in which their parents reside. Healthcare should be the same across the board. Wealth shouldn’t enter the equation.”
“A million doctors and pharmaceutical companies disagree with you.”
My huff ruffles a wisp of hair fallen from my bun. “If people stop thinking you must be rich to be successful, greed will only ever be an issue of the heart.” I laugh like the donuts I purchased today for Alla and me aren’t squashed in the bottom of my purse. “Although that could be just as dangerous. My heart always craves more donuts than my stomach can handle.”
Once I peel off the protective strip of a fourth Band-Aid and set it into place on Maksim’s left hand, I lift my eyes to gauge his response to his big, manly hands donning cartoon characters.
Air traps in my lungs when our eyes lock. I didn’t realize I had scooted so close to him. Barely an inch of air is between us. I’ve practically crawled onto his lap during my assessment of his wounds.
“I’m so sor—”
I swallow the remainder of my apology with the spit his growl instigates. I’ve never heard such a brutish yet arousing sound. It could only be more delicious if it were vibrating through my clit instead of my lips.
I should pull back.
I should do anything but return his stare, but for the life of me, I can’t get my body to cooperate with my head.
It refuses to budge since all its focus is devoted on how wild his hooded gaze makes me feel.
Ecstasy is trickling through every inch of me, and he isn’t even touching me. I can only imagine how explosive it would be if he’d answer one of the shameful pleas beaming from my eyes.
I’m all but begging, and it fills me with so much shame. When I spot the bus I should have caught in front of us, I shift my eyes to the driver’s beady pair watching us in the rearview mirror before saying, “If you pass the bus, I can get out at the next stop. I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”
When the driver strays his eyes to Maksim, seeking his thoughts on my proposal, Maksim waits a beat before he shakes his head.
“I’m also going to the airport, so it’s no bother.”
“We’re going to the airport?” I can’t see the driver’s brows since they’re hidden behind floppy, unkempt hair, but from the highness of his tone, I imagine they’re cocked.
Maksim’s glare is hot enough to melt ice when he returns the driver’s watch. “Yes, we are.”
The driver’s gulp is audible before he signals to pull onto the freeway.
Although hostility is rife, I sink low into my chair before attempting to strike up a conversation. “Are you going home?” I ask at the same time Maksim queries, “Was the rest of your luggage pre-delivered to the airport?”
“Oh… No. This is all I need.” I kick my carry-on he placed on the floor between us. “I’m only going away for the weekend, so I don’t need much.”
Maksim tugs down the sleeves of his shirt, covering most of the Band-Aids, before asking, “To Trudny Peninsula, right?”
I startle, dumbstruck he eavesdropped on my conversation with Zoya more than I realized. “Yes. I’m traveling with a friend. It is her little sister’s hen party.” When he replies with a simple nod, I ask, “Have you been to the Trudny Peninsula District before?”
He jerks up his chin. “A handful of times.”
“Any recommendations?”
He wets his lips before aligning his eyes with mine. “For?”
“Places to eat. Visit. I don’t have a lot of funds, but I’ve heard you don’t need it at Nakhodka.”
When his jaw tightens, I wonder if I said something wrong. Not everyone is a fan of penny-pinchers, but my budget consciousness has never caused such a severe reaction before.