The Doctor She Always Dreamed Of. Wendy S. Marcus

heterosexual male wouldn’t? God help him she smelled fantastic, classy, enticing.

      “Are you mute?” she asked, scrunching her brow.

      No, he was not mute. But like a dumbfounded idiot, he shook his head rather than responding verbally.

      “I’m Kira,” she introduced herself, pressing her body to his to make room in the hallway for two women to walk past, so close he could feel the swell of her breasts against his chest, the push of her hip against his... Damn. She felt even better than she smelled. His body hardened with interest, with...yearning. Not good. He tried to push her away.

      But Ms. Peniglatt would have none of that. Surprisingly steady after all the liquor she’d consumed, she skillfully turned them, pinning his back to the wall. “And you are?”

      “Derrick.” His name came out coarse, like it was the first word he’d uttered in a decade, like he was a virgin who’d never been hit on by a beautiful woman before. Come to think of it, if he ever had, it’d been too long ago for him to remember. Between medical school, then residency and now working an insane amount of hours at his six-month-old private family practice, he didn’t get out much. When he did, he liked to be the one to make the first move.

      “Nice to meet you, Derrick.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Are you married, or engaged, or in a relationship?” Her hands slid up the sides of his dress shirt then back down to settle on his hips leaving a pleasing, fizzy feeling wherever she’d touched him.

      He fought back a laugh. In all the possible outcomes he’d considered when first deciding to follow Ms. Peniglatt when he’d seen her hailing a cab outside of her office, he’d never once entertained the possibility she’d come on to him. Or that he’d have to fend her off or think of a way to politely turn her down, without letting her know his true identity.

      “Because I’ve been watching you, too, Derrick,” she said seductively. “And I very much like what I see. I’ve had a horrible, train wreck of a week. But at this very moment, things are looking up because here you are when I just happen to be drunk enough to pick up a total stranger in a bar.”

      He wasn’t exactly a total stranger.

      “So if you’re interested...” She moved her mouth to his neck and set a gentle kiss just above his collar sending a flair of arousal through his system. “I’d very much like for the two of us to spend the rest of the night together.” She moved her mouth back up to his ear and whispered, “Naked.”

      Naked. At the sound of the word, at the feel of her hot, moist breath as she said it and the enticing visual images that accompanied it, his body perked up in eager anticipation. Under normal circumstances, Derrick would like nothing more than to get naked with a woman as attractive and alluring as the woman pressed against him.

      But there was nothing normal about the circumstances of their meeting.

      “That feels nice,” she said, setting her cheek to his shoulder.

      What felt nice? Oops. Somehow his hands had wound up on her spectacular ass, which did, in fact, feel very nice. He couldn’t help but give a little squeeze.

      Remember why you’re here.

      He removed his hands. “I—”

      “Well look at you.” Kira’s friend joined them. “I was wondering what was taking so long. Please tell me you know this man.”

      “We’ve just recently become acquainted,” Kira said, pulling away guiltily, almost stumbling. Derrick reached out to steady her, and somehow she wound up right back where she’d started, pressed to his chest.

      “Quick reflexes. Good thing. I’m Connie, Kira’s assistant.” She held out her hand.

      Derrick shook it.

      “She’s also my best friend,” Kira added, in a sappy drunk kind of way. “Although she’s failed miserably in keeping me from getting drunk tonight.”

      “As your best friend,” Connie said, “I consider it my responsibility to remind you that you’re not the type to pick up strange men in bars.” She looked up at Derrick. “You’ll have to excuse her. She doesn’t get out much.”

      “One night,” Kira said sleepily, cuddling up against him. “My sister is home. I have a whole night to myself to have fun and do whatever I want and I want to spend it with Derrick.”

      Why did her sister need to be home for her to have a night all to herself?

      “That’s the alcohol talking,” Connie said.

      “I like what it’s saying,” Kira said back, looking up at Derrick. “Don’t you like what it’s saying, Derrick?”

      He was going to hell, because for damn sure he most certainly did like what it was saying, what she was saying.

      Connie looked conflicted. “You don’t know anything about him,” Connie said. Glancing up to meet his eyes she added, “No offense. I’m sure you’re a great guy.”

      No. Tonight he wasn’t. She felt so good, desire tried to overtake good moral character, screaming, “Take her to the nearest motel and give her what she wants, hard and fast. Exhaust her then leave while she’s sleeping. She’ll never know who you really are. First thing Monday morning, call her again like nothing happened.” Common sense fought back, screaming, “You’re not that guy. You don’t take advantage of drunk women, no matter how sexy they are or how much you dislike them.”

      “You’re the one who told me some hot sex would make me feel better,” Kira said to Connie. “I’ve had a rotten day. I need to feel better.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. “Make me feel better, Derrick.”

      “She’s not a big drinker,” Connie explained apologetically.

      All evidence to the contrary.

      “Come on, Kira.” Connie tugged on her arm. “Let the nice man be on his way.”

      Kira looked up at him, again, her expression soft and sweet. “Do you want to be on your way, Derrick?”

      He should want to be on his way. He needed to be on his way, had a long drive ahead of him. And yet, “Not, really,” snuck out of his mouth, followed by, “How about we go get a cup of coffee or something to eat?”

       CHAPTER THREE

      KIRA CAME AWAKE to the smell of coffee. Oh, God. How did Mom get to the kitchen? She jumped out of bed and...

      “Whoa,” a man said. “Slow down.”

      She froze at the sound of a male voice in her bedroom. During that pause she noticed carpet below her bare feet. She didn’t have carpet in her bedroom.

      A quick perusal of her surroundings made her think she was in a child’s room. One she didn’t recognize. A single bed draped in a baseball-themed comforter, baseball trophies covering the desk and dresser, and posters of baseball players she didn’t recognize hanging on the walls. Thumbtacks held a large periodic table on the back of the closed door. Funny, she’d done the same thing in her bedroom as a teenager, to hide her inner science geek.

      But what the heck? She turned back to the handsome man before her, standing tall and solid, holding two mugs of coffee. He wore a tight white T-shirt that showcased a muscled chest and arms, and navy blue slacks. His feet were bare. Dark, mussed hair fell haphazardly over his forehead, and stuck up in spots. A day’s worth of scruff covered his jaw. Kira liked scruff. But who was he? And why did his blue eyes stare back at her with a wary edge?

      She studied the face, recognizing it. Derrick. Memories of last night whooshed into her mind, seeing him at the bar, watching him as he watched her, stumbling into him, pushing him against the wall, and oh, God, propositioning him. Connie taking a picture of him and his driver’s license then patting