I NEED MORE
KIMBERLEY WHITE
Contents
BACKWARD
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
RESUSCITATION
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CLEAR!
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
BEGINNINGS
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 1
Dr. Erika Johnson slid the glossy black sachet across the desk, her heart pounding so rapidly she thought it would jerk into a rhythm incompatible with life, like a funky ventricular tachycardia. She watched him closely as his long fingers, attached to perfect brown hands once capable of caressing her into a crazed frenzy, reached out to accept the packet. He slowly brought the documents to rest on top of the medical file he’d been reading. He adjusted his glasses, in no particular hurry to open the mysterious offering. She willed herself to breathe deeply and stay calm. She searched for the tiniest sign of emotion as he slowly unwound the black string, threw open the cover, and read the heading.
Dr. Brock Johnson’s thick lashes flipped up to look at her. He spared this minimal reaction but gathered his composure quickly as he continued to peruse the legal papers. His hands rested on each side of the page, one finger stroking the edge as his eyes moved back and forth. His expression remained blank, giving no indication of how he felt about what he was reading.
Erika found his ability to shield his emotions maddening as she fidgeted, waiting for his response to her announcement. But hadn’t she fallen in love with this man of opposites? The hospital staff had warned her about the stoic doctor who wanted his patients cared for in very particular ways. She’d come to learn Brock wasn’t stoic, but highly conscientious about the welfare of his clients. Rumors were he was stuck-up because he didn’t associate with the staff at Christmas parties and after-work get-togethers. Actually, he was a man trained to be professional at all times and found it improper to socialize with those you were supervising. He was called mean because he never smiled. She uncovered he was bursting with love but needed a special woman give it to.
She watched him, more than his huge desk separating them, and tried to pinpoint exactly when things had gone wrong. It seemed so long ago when she’d walked into a patient’s room, instantly feeling Brock’s heat as he meticulously sutured a long scar across the man’s forehead. She had cried many tears since that day, and didn’t doubt she would shed many more.
“What is this about, Erika?” Brock’s wording was precise and well measured, the tone a school principal would use with a child about to be reprimanded.
She’d been preparing for this showdown for a week. She swallowed hard and matched his tone. “I want a divorce.”
His dark eyes challenged hers, struggling for dominance in her surprise attack. He didn’t look away as he closed the cover on the divorce papers. “And you approach me with this at work?”
“I didn’t want there to be a scene.”
“So you ambush me?” His voice dropped an octave, and for Brock it was the same as if he had shouted.
“If my intention was to ambush you, I would’ve had my lawyer deliver the papers to your apartment.”
“Lawyer,” he repeated as if he didn’t know the meaning of the word. “Were we supposed to have gotten lawyers?”
“At some point, yes.”
“Not at this point,” he countered. He cocked his right brow, challenging her.
There was a time when he could wiggle his dark brow and blink his thick lashes and Erika would melt. With a creamed-coffee complexion and dark facial hair, he was quite simply the most handsome man she’d ever met.
Brock pushed the divorce papers aside. “We’ll talk about this later. I’ll call you. We’ll have dinner.” He resumed his work, dismissing her.
“We’re going to talk about it now.”
Her forcefulness earned her another hitch of his brow. He braced the edge of the desk and pushed his chair back, just a few inches, as if he needed the room to exhale his exasperation. “I don’t discuss my personal life at work.”
“It’s my personal life, too, and I want to talk now.” She shook her head, refusing to let hurt feelings play a part in this interaction. The day he left, her heart had shriveled and died. It had taken a long time to become reconciled with his decision. Her newfound contentment with her life wouldn’t let her back down. “We’ve been separated for seven months. It’s time to make a decision.”
“And your vision has suddenly cleared.”
Erika’s strumming heartbeat came to an abrupt halt, and her new problem became fighting through an episode of dizziness and not ending up unconscious on the floor.
He knows.
She took a deep breath, fighting guilt. Brock Johnson was a well-respected intensivist at Mission Hospital, leading his physician group in the care of ICU patients. Of course he knew about the eye clinic opening across the hall from her internal medicine clinic in the hospital’s office building. It didn’t mean he knew everything.
“You’re seeing what our future should be with 20/20 precision?”
The office lapsed into silence. She hadn’t been prepared to discuss this. She could handle only one issue at a time with a man as stubborn and controlling as Brock. Today, it would be the divorce. She refused to be intimidated by his double-talk and pushed ahead with her purpose. “The settlement’s fair.”
His expression was frozen, his eyes locked onto hers with an angry fire blazing inside his pupils.
“All I ask is to keep using your last name. I’ve built my practice as Dr. Johnson. I’d like to avoid confusion or having to rebuild my reputation because of switching back to my maiden name.”
“Do you really think I’m going to sign this?” He shoved the packet across the desk, and it toppled over the edge into her lap. “You walk in here and present me with divorce papers without any warning, and the only issue you see is whether