Escalation Clause
Authors: Liz Crowe
Escalation Clause
By
Liz Crowe
Escalation Clause (Stewart Realty, Book 6)
A
Sizzlin’ Book
published by permission of the author
Copyright
©
2012 Liz Crowe
Cover Art Copyright 2012 by Mina Carver
All rights reserved.
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ISBN: 978-0-9859911-4-2
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Liz Crowe Titles from Sizzlin’ Books:
Stewart Realty Series:
Floor Time
Sweat Equity
Closing Costs
Essence of Time
Conditional Offer
Standalone Titles:
Vegas Miracle
Paradise Hops
Coming Soon:
Honey Red
Man On (The Black Jack Gentlemen Book 1)
You can find out more about Liz Crowe and her books
(including a complete backlist) on her website:
www.lizcrowe.com
Sizzlin’ Books - A division of Tri Destiny Publishing
www.sizzlinbooks.com
Dear Intrepid Reader,
Welcome to Book six of the Stewart Realty series! Thanks for sticking with Jack, Sara and the gang this far.
I have a few specific people to thank so bear with me a second before diving in.
Writing a book is a solitary process, lonely, fraught with moments of “oh my god I suck at this,” interspersed with the odd fist pump of “damn I nailed that one.” However, once the book is written, the work has only just begun. My process is nothing without the help of several people. Thanks are due to Mina Carter, for her incredible patience with cover art. And to my various editors at every level from content and lines to galleys – a million thanks for not letting me repeat myself too much but allowing me to speak with my voice.
A thousand shout outs to all the members of the Pink Boots Gang – the Liz Crowe Street Team and those of you who go above and beyond the call with your posts, tweets, pins, tumbling, reviews and general support helping spread the word. Our group on Facebook: Romance for Real Life is a great place, thanks to all your support, comments, and willingness to be involved in promoting and assisting the Liz voice get heard above the all the noise of the publishing world. Alyssa, Denise, Angie, Molly, Carole, Christine, Lori, Effie, Susan, Stephanie, Jeanne, Janet, Marika, Ashley, Ethan, Sheri, Trista, Rob, John, and many others – Muchas Gracias.
And finally, a loud standing ovation for Jessica Warth –publisher, editor, advisor, calmer-downer, picker-upper, ass-kicker and great listener. Without you, NONE of this would be possible.
So now, enjoy the journey kids, and remember – if you have picked this book up before reading the first 5, take my advice: put it down and start with Floor Time, Sweat Equity, Closing Costs, Essence of Time and Conditional Offer FIRST – you will not be sorry!
| | Cheers, |
Contents
Prologue
The hard edge of the utilitarian sink bit into the back of Beth’s thighs as Matthew pressed his lips down on hers. Panic warred with lust, all tangled in a huge web of worry that someone would find them here in the ladies’ room, frantic that she was becoming one more notch in Dr. Thornton’s belt, but completely unable to stop kissing him back. He released her hair from the stern tie back as his fingers entwined in its tangles. She fought herself, but kept responding, pulling him closer, loving the firm, forbidden press of him. Until the glint of her engagement ring caught her eye. She pushed him away, breathing hard, staring into the dim light of the early morning.
The grey institutional space that was the fifth floor staff ladies’ room cast an eerie pall over his sharp, handsome features. His eyes were darker than their usual soft brown as he gazed at her. “Beth, you are amazing,” he tugged her close, his touch lighting yet more fires that she was determined to extinguish. “The way you called that abruption,” he shook his head. “You saved that woman and her baby, you know that.”
Dizzy from having him so close, she closed her eyes, trying to picture Ethan, her fiancé. Matthew chose that moment to reestablish the kiss and dug deep into her psyche with his lips and tongue. She arched into him, unable to stop herself. Dr. Matthew Thornton had barely acknowledged her existence until a few days ago. As chief resident in obstetrics and gynecology at the University of Michigan hospital, it was his job to ignore her—a lowly intern on her OB rotation.
Everyone knew about him. His tall, boyish good looks and irresistible flirtatious manner reduced all sorts of women to simpering girls. Beth Bishop was one of the few females accepted into the highly competitive internship program at U of M, and she was determined to prove her worth to all of the male doctors and the surly nurses. She’d been just one of a crowd of rookies who hung onto his every word, watching him not only solve medical problems but also charm the women who were his patients and the nurses constantly at his beck and call.
He’d been picking on her lately, had called her out several times, embarrassing her by catching her unable to answer a clinical question, or scribbling in her pocket-sized notebook. With a constant stream of snide comments about her presence among the high and mighty men of the group, he did nothing but make her despise him, his gargantuan ego, and his fan club.
When the young pregnant woman had walked into the ER around eleven that night, showing classic symptoms of preeclampsia, Dr. Asshole had dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Beth had been furious.
“Elevate her feet for a while, monitor her fluid intake, then send her home on bed rest,” he had prescribed, barely even looking at her or her wide-eyed husband.
Beth had paid close attention to the woman, patting her hand and reassuring her that this was not severe and that all would be well. Thornton signed her release after a couple of hours, against Beth’s better judgment.
“Doctor,” she’d tried to keep the angry high pitch out of her voice. “I believe this woman needs to be admitted for observation.”
“No,
doctor
,” he snidely emphasized her new title. “These women eat too much salt and swell up and their blood pressure gets a bit high and they panic. It’s not always life or death. Send her home.”
By five a.m., when Beth was about to head home herself, the woman was back, dizzy, nauseous, and spotting. Beth whisked her past the triage nurse and into a curtained area, paging Dr. Thornton back from whatever or whomever he was doing. She had the woman’s urine sample analyzed and results returned by the time Matthew honored them with his presence.
“She’s spilling proteins and her BP is even higher than before,” Beth began, as he grabbed the paperwork out of her hands. “Magnesium drip, stat,” he ordered, hoping to stave off seizures as they both watched the woman begin to fade in and out of consciousness. Her body shook relentlessly, as her husband watched in horror. Matthew held her shoulders, Beth her ankles, as the nurse tried to insert the IV.
“Doctor, I think you need to see this,” Beth motioned for him to join her at the woman’s feet. The bed underneath her was completely blood-soaked. “Abruption; it has to be,” she yelled, unable to stop herself. He glared as she demanded that the nurse phone surgery and prepare a room immediately for a C-section—the only way to save the baby and, hopefully, the mother.