Tangled with a Psycho

April Scott was a new intern in the Anesthesiology Department at Northwood University Medical Center, and despite rehearsing how calm and composed she would appear, her nerves betrayed her the moment she stepped inside. If only she knew what the day had in store for her, she might have as well followed her instincts. After showing her ID at the security desk, she hurried toward the elevator. Her department was on the twelfth floor.

The lobby was a beehive of activity, patients, stretchers, nurses, orderlies and that familiar pungent smell of disinfectant that screamed welcome to the real world.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal a tall, young, gorgeous man standing inside, clad in a crisp lab coat. His brown wavy hair looked as though it had been styled with a broom, messy and tousled.

"Oh my God. This guy is freaking hot." She mulled wordlessly to herself. He must be a doctor. Can't be more than thirty, she thought, catching a strong wisp of his cologne which did things to her head. He should have been a model or an actor instead.

"Are you coming in or not?" His voice was deep, stern, and impatient.

She rolled her eyes before stepping in, masking her feelings. The doors slid shut.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" he growled.

April took a slow deep breath and kept quiet. His voice was husky and smooth.

He scoffed. "You're ignoring me?"

"What?" She glared up at him, meeting his gaze.

"Are you normal?" he snapped.

"I should be the one asking you that."

"Really?" His brows shot up.

"What did I do wrong, huh?"

"Why did you roll your eyes at me, stupid?"

April froze. Was he for real? How can this hot looking guy be so cranky? "Are you actually a doctor, or is that lab coat for someone else?"

He tilted his head slightly. "Good question. What do I look like to you?"

A psycho, she thought angrily, biting her lip as she stared down at her feet. He couldn't even pretend to be nice at least.

"Won't you say something? What do I look like to you?"

"A psycho," she blurted just as the elevator stopped. She bolted out and hurried to the locker room to change, trying to shake his image off her head. It was way too early to want to have a bad start.

...

Dr. Adrian Smith wasn't okay.

Not after sharing an elevator with her. She was too hot and attractive for her own good. Was she really a nurse?

He should never have let her in. That part was on him.

She had actually dared to call him a psycho. What gave her the nerve and effrontery?

"Dr. Smith," Naomi, the head nurse of the Anesthesiology Department, called.

"Yeah?"

"You asked to see all the new interns before their orientation."

"Yes. Let them in."

He smirked. He couldn't wait to see her face when she realized exactly who she had disrespected. He bet she would be on her knees, crying for mercy.

April Scott. Anesthesiology Department.

He had memorized the name on her badge without even trying.

Four interns walked in, two guys, two ladies. His gaze scanned them quickly.

Where was she?

"Is this all of you?" he demanded.

They exchanged confused glances.

"I said, is there anyone left?" He turned sharply to Naomi.

"Yes, sir. One more intern. She should be here soon."

"And what the hell is she waiting for?" He slammed his fist on the table. "A special invitation?" His irritation spiked. "You know what? All of you, leave. Naomi, bring them back when the missing princess decides to show up."

He stood abruptly and left the office, choosing to use the staff restroom instead. Why was he feeling this way? She wasn't the first beautiful woman he had seen, with alluring curves capable of distracting a saint. Or maybe she was. Her beauty did strange things to his senses. And she looked familiar, but he couldn't place her face.

He rubbed his head, lost in thought till he reached the restroom, pushed the door open, and crashed straight into her.

April froze in shock, having just pulled down her scrub pants.

"Seriously?!" She yanked them back up in a hurry. "You followed me in here, you psycho? I don't understand. Are you after my life or something?!"

Adrian straightened, trying to rebuild whatever dignity had just crumbled inside him as he forced a measured breath. "Are you nuts or flat-out insane? What are you even doing here in the first place?"

April scoffed and threw her hands up. "Dumb question of the year, idiot! I'm here to make coffee!"

He blinked at her, incredulous. "Stop yelling like a maniac and try to think before speaking."

April gasped, her hand flying dramatically to her chest. "Did you just call me a maniac? After barging into my privacy?"

"Whose privacy, if I may ask?" He arched a brow. "Do you perhaps suffer from early-onset dementia?"

"What?!" She nearly stomped her foot.

"Didn't you read the label on the door?" he asked, his voice low and patronizing.

April finally glanced sideways and spotted the huge bold sign.

GENTS ONLY.

Embarrassment flushed up her neck. Her stomach did a tiny, unfortunate swoop. Shit. She had been in such a rush that she hadn't even looked.

"Fine," she muttered, swallowing her pride. "Enjoy your toilet, perfecto señor." She spun to leave, but Adrian caught her wrist with a firm grip.

"Is that your idea of an apology?"

"Apparently." April lifted her chin and held his gaze. She refused to be intimidated by his height, his tone, or those dangerously handsome features that seemed to pore into her and made her heart flutter.

For a moment, neither of them looked away. They were close enough to feel each other's breath. Would he apologize and kiss me? April wondered stupidly.

Then something flickered across his expression.

"Andrea Johnson?"

April frowned. Her heart slammed violently against her ears. Andrea Johnson was a name she had been forced to drop twelve years ago, after a dark, ugly incident.

No way.

There was no way this jerk standing in front of her knew her past or real identity.