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Paige was on morning rounds with the Beast, as she secretly referred to Dr. Barker. She had assisted him in three cardiothoracic surgeries, and in spite of her bitter feelings toward him, she could not help but admire his incredible skill. She watched in awe as he opened up a patient, deftly replaced the old heart with a donor heart, and sewed him up. The operation took less than five hours.

Within a few weeks, Paige thought, that patient will be able to return to a normal life. No wonder surgeons think they're gods. They bring the dead back to life.

One morning, a patient was scheduled for a procedure to insert an intraaortic balloon. Paige was in the operating room assisting Dr. Barker. As they were about to begin, Dr. Barker snapped, "Do it!"

Time after time, Paige watched a heart stop and turn to an inert piece of flesh. And then the miracle would occur, and a lifeless organ would begin to pulsate again and send blood through a body that had been dying.

Paige looked at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's a simple procedure. Do you think you can handle it?" There was contempt in his voice.

To hell with him, Paige thought. Nothing I could ever do would please him.

"Well, then, get on with it!"

He was infuriating.

"Yes," Paige said tightly.

"Too damned slow," he growled.

The senior resident looked at Paige and smiled. "Nice job."

Paige injected a radiopaque dye through the tube. They watched the monitor as the dye flowed into the coronary arteries. Images appeared on a fluoroscopy screen and showed the degree of blockage and its location in the artery, while an automatic motion-picture camera recorded the X-rays for a permanent record.

And he walked out.

"You really hate him, don't you?"

Barker watched as Paige expertly inserted a hollow tube into the patient's artery and threaded it up into the heart. It was done flawlessly. Barker stood there, without saying a word.

"Thank you." Paige turned to Dr. Barker.

Paige was grateful for the days that Dr. Barker was away from the hospital, working at his private practice. She said to Kat, "Being away from him for a day is like a week in the country."

"Idiot nephew. Dr. Wallace's wife has a nephew who wants to be a doctor. They threw him out of his last two schools. We've all had to put up with him. Today it's your turn."

"Yeah, the IN."

"Do you think he'll make it?"

The following day when Paige was in charge of afternoon rounds, Kaplan, a senior resident, stopped her in the corridor. "This is your lucky day." He grinned. "You're getting a new medical school student to take around."

Kat sighed. "Dammit. Why does it happen to the good guys?"

"He's a brilliant doctor, but he's a miserable human being. Have you ever noticed how some people fit their names? If Dr. Barker doesn't stop barking at people, he's going to have a stroke."

"Funny. I thought we were God."

Paige and Kat went to check on Jimmy Ford. He was still in a coma. There was nothing they could do.

"You should see some of the beauties I have to put up with." Kat laughed. "They all think they're God's gift to pussies. Wouldn't it be great if there were no men in the world!"

"Really?"

Paige looked at her, but said nothing.

"I wish I knew."

"IN?"

Paige hesitated. "We've done everything we can. Now it's up to God."

Paige sighed and walked over to where the new residents were waiting to start the rounds. Where's the IN? She looked at her watch. He was already three minutes late. I'll give him one more minute, Paige decided, and then to hell with him. She saw him then, a tall, lean-looking man, hurrying toward her, down the hall.

"No."

"Never mind. What's your name?"

"Idiot nephew" doesn't begin to describe him. "Meet us in Ward One."

Paige said irritably, "Go back to the head nurse's office and tell her to give you a white coat. And you don't have a scut book."

"You're late," Paige said curtly.

Paige groaned. "I don't have time for this. I'm up to my…"

"Didn't anyone tell you to wear a white coat on rounds?"

"My white coat?"

"It's not an option. Be a good girl and Dr. Wallace will give you brownie points." Kaplan moved off.

"Where's your white coat?"

He looked flustered. "No. I'm afraid I…"

He walked up to Paige, out of breath, and said, "Excuse me. Dr. Wallace asked me to --"

"I know. I'm sorry. I was held up at --"

"Jason. Jason Curtis." He was wearing a sport jacket.

He stared at her. "I'm afraid I… I can't."

Of course not. "Epicardial. Myocardial. Endocardial."

Paige fought for self-control. "You're not his mother, you're his doctor! He needs continuous IV fluids to combat dehydration, along with IV iodine and antithyroid drugs and sedatives for convulsions."

"Just do it!" Paige and the others started off, leaving Jason Curtis staring after them.

My God! Paige thought. Dr. Wallace or no Dr. Wallace, I'm going to get rid of him fast.

She turned to Curtis. "Can you name the three types of tumors?"

He looked at Paige and smiled. "That's really interesting."

They moved on to the next patient, and when Paige was through examining him, she took the group into the corridor, out of earshot. "We're dealing here with a thyroid storm, with fever and extreme tachycardia. It came on after surgery." She turned to Jason Curtis. "How would you treat him for that?"

They were examining their third patient when Jason Curtis came hurrying up. He was wearing a white coat. Paige was saying, "… tumors of the heart can be primary, which is rare, or secondary, which is much more common."

He stood there, thoughtful for a moment. Then he said, "Gently?"

"Are you sure? I…"

"Look for another profession."

At that moment Dr. Wallace came into view. "Jason!" he called. "I've been looking all over for you." He turned to Paige. "I see you two have met."

"I really appreciate your telling me this," Jason Curtis said earnestly. "I wonder if we could discuss this further. If you aren't doing anything for dinner tonight…?"

"Well, you tell Dr. Wallace that he's making a mistake. I think you should find something else to do with your life."

"Quite honestly, no. You don't enjoy this, do you?"

"No. Not at all," he said agreeably. "I'd appreciate it."

"To tell you the truth, I was pushed into it."

"Not really."

He stood there, frowning. "You don't think I'm cut out for this?"

The rounds got no better. When they were over, Paige called Jason Curtis aside. "Do you mind my being frank with you?"

"Yes, we've met," Paige said grimly.

"Then why did you choose to go into this?"

Jason nodded. "That sounds about right."

"We have nothing further to discuss," Paige said curtly. "You can tell your uncle…"

By me!

It was July, time for the ritual that took place every twelve months at hospitals all over the United States, as new residents came in to begin their journey toward becoming real doctors.

Paige stood there, motionless. "He's… what?"

"What about dinner tonight?"

She felt her face getting red. Didn't anyone tell you to wear a white coat on rounds? Why did you go into this? To tell you the truth, I was pushed into it.

"I don't eat. And I'm busy." And Paige was gone.

Paige wanted to crawl into a hole. He had made a complete fool of her. She turned to Jason. "Why didn't you tell me who you were?"

"She didn't give you a chance to what?" Dr. Wallace asked.

Jason looked after her, admiringly. "That's quite a woman."

"If you'll excuse me…" Paige said tightly.

He was watching her, amused. "Well, you really didn't give me a chance."

"Good. Jason is the architect in charge of designing the new wing we're building."

"Fine." But his thoughts were on Paige.

"Yes. Didn't he tell you?"

"She is, isn't she? Shall we go to my office and talk about the new designs?"

The nurses had been looking forward to the new crop of residents, staking out claims on the ones they thought would make good lovers or husbands. On this particular day, as the new residents appeared, nearly every female eye was fixed on Dr. Ken Mallory.

No one knew why Ken Mallory had transferred from an exclusive private hospital in Washington, D. C., to Embarcadero County Hospital in San Francisco. He was a fifth-year resident and a general surgeon. There were rumors that he had had to leave Washington in a hurry because of an affair with a congressman's wife. There was another rumor that a nurse had committed suicide because of him and he had been asked to leave. The only thing the nurses were sure of was that Ken Mallory was, without doubt, the best-looking man they had ever seen. He had a tall, athletic body, wavy blond hair, and a face that would have looked great on a movie screen.

Mallory blended into the hospital routine as though he had been there forever. He was a charmer, and almost from the beginning, the nurses were fighting for his attention. Night after night, the other doctors would watch Mallory disappear into an empty on-call room with a different nurse. His reputation as a stud was becoming legendary around the hospital.

Grundy was thoughtful for a moment. "I'll bet I can name someone."

Grundy, one of the residents, said, "You're making the rest of us look like eunuchs, Ken. Isn't there anyone in this hospital you can't lay?"

"One of the senior residents here. Her name is Kat Hunter."

"We were just talking about you," one of them said. "You must be exhausted."

"Because we've all struck out. I don't think she likes men."

Mallory laughed. "I doubt it."

Mallory grinned. "It was not a bad night." He had spent the night with two nurses.

"Really? Who's that?"

"Can you believe all those nurses throwing themselves at him?" Kat laughed. "They're actually fighting to be the flavor of the week!"

Kat shook her head. "No. I don't."

"You have to admit, he is attractive," Honey pointed out.

Paige, Kat, and Honey were discussing him.

Mallory nodded. "The black doll. I've seen her. She's very attractive. What makes you think I can't take her to bed?"

One morning, half a dozen residents were in the doctors' dressing room when Mallory walked in.

One of the other residents spoke up. "You mean you're willing to bet on it?"

"No problem." Mallory looked around the group and grinned. "Suckers!"

Another one spoke up. "Let me in on it. I'll bet you six hundred."

It was a challenge. "I'll bet you're wrong."

"What's the time limit?" Mallory asked.

"All right." The group began to crowd around Mallory. "I'll bet you five hundred dollars you can't lay her."

Grundy thought for a moment. "Let's say thirty days. Is that fair?"

Mallory smiled. "Sure. Why not?"

In the end, five thousand dollars was bet.

Grundy shook his head. "No. You wouldn't have a chance."

"Or maybe she just hasn't met the right one," Mallory suggested.

Grundy said, "But you have to prove it. She has to admit that she went to bed with you."

"I'll bet you three hundred."

"More than fair. I won't need that much time."

"You're on."

Fifteen minutes later, Grundy was in the cafeteria where Kat, Paige, and Honey were having breakfast. He walked over to their table. "Can I join you ladies -- you doctors -- for a moment?"

Grundy laughed. "Perfect. She's as mad as hell. The son of a bitch is dead meat!"

Kat was looking at him, puzzled. "Know what?"

Grundy sighed. "That new senior resident who came in -- Ken Mallory?"

"Yes. What about him?"

Grundy sat down. He looked at Kat and said apologetically, "I hate to tell you this, but I'm really mad, and I think it's only fair that you should know…"

In the corridor outside the cafeteria, the other residents were waiting for him.

"Thanks," Kat said. "I appreciate your telling me."

Paige looked up. "Sure."

They watched Grundy leave.

"It was the least I could do."

Grundy said, "Well, I… God, this is embarrassing. He bet some of the doctors five thousand dollars that he could get you into bed in the next thirty days."

Kat's face was grim. "He did, did he?"

"How did it go?" they asked.

Grundy said piously, "I don't blame you for being angry. It made me sick when I heard about it. Well, I just wanted to warn you. He'll be asking you out, and I thought it was only right that you should know why he was doing it."

And Kat had no idea that with those words, she had signed her death warrant.

Kat nodded. "Someone should give him a dick-otomy. They'll be ice skating in hell before I go out with that bastard."

"He has thirty days, right? When he asks you out, you'll be warm and loving and affectionate. I mean, you'll be absolutely crazy about the man. You'll drive him out of his mind. The only thing you won't do, bless your heart, is to go to bed with him. We'll teach him a five-thousand-dollar lesson."

At the table, Honey was saying, "I think that's just terrible."

Kat thought of her stepfather. It was a way of getting revenge. "I like it," Kat said.

Paige sat there thinking. After a moment, she said, "You know something, Kat? It might be interesting if you did go out with him."

Kat looked at her in surprise. "What?"

"I am."

There was a glint in Paige's eye. "Why not? If he wants to play games, let's help him -- only he'll play our game."

"You mean you're going to do it?" Honey said.

Kat leaned forward. "Go on."