Jackson

The day I found my wife in bed with a friend on our first wedding anniversary, I packed my bags, left, and never looked back. That was the day I promised I’d never get involved in another relationship again. Nine years later, I had still held to my promise. I was a bachelor, living my life the best way I knew how between saving patients’ lives, hanging with my family, and having more one-night stands than a person should.

Then I met a woman in Cabo. A gorgeous and sexy woman whom I’d been eyeing since I saw her sitting by the hotel pool. We spent one night together. What were the chances we’d ever see each other again? Slim to none, right? Wrong. She showed up at my medical center for an interview for the open OB/GYN position.

I didn’t want to hire her. I had my reasons—one being that she lied about her name when we’d met. But my brothers wanted her. The vote was two against one, and she was in. Every time she looked at me with those seductive blue eyes, I was reminded of that night, and I hated her for the imprint she’d left on me.

Georgia

Jackson Kind was an arrogant, self-absorbed neurosurgeon with whom I shared one night. I had no clue he was a doctor, and I would never have slept with him. My heart was already broken by one, and I swore off sex with doctors for life. I should have walked out of the medical center when I found out he owned it because I couldn’t stop thinking about him since our night together in Cabo. Every time he looked at me with those smoldering blue eyes, I hated him even more for how he made my body feel.