Winning The Doctor. Harmony Evans

it was difficult, Liza managed to keep her voice pleasant. She’d come too far to give up now.

      A group of nurses walked past her, laughing and carrying on, almost bumping into her in the narrow hallway of Bay Point Community Hospital’s General Surgery unit. She twisted her head to the side in mild annoyance, accidentally exposing her scar. It began near her right earlobe and slid to the edge of her jawbone, where it mercifully ended. Though it was narrow, about the width of a piece of yarn and only an inch long, she was self-conscious about it, especially when meeting new people.

      Even though she’d worn her long hair down, Liza resisted the urge to place her hand on her neck, having learned over the years that no matter how much she tried, her scar was eventually revealed. She drew in a breath before turning her head back to face Dr. Marbet, and consciously lowered her chin just a bit, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

      It was too late. Something had changed in his deep brown eyes. Her cheeks suddenly warmed, kindling the thought that his interest in her was more than scientific, more visceral. But she knew that couldn’t possibly be the case.

      He thinks I’m a patient.

      “You know who I am, don’t you?”

      His lips melted into a faint smile. “Of course I do, Ms. Sinclair, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve changed my mind.”

      She stared at the man who had seemed so interested to meet her during their phone conversation a few days earlier. His call had been a complete surprise. When he told her his plans to open a boutique cosmetic surgery clinic and offered her the opportunity to interview, she’d jumped at the chance to design the structure from the ground up.

      Though he was only in his early thirties, Dr. Anthony Marbet was a much sought-after cosmetic surgeon in California and throughout the United States. His skills at making beautiful people even more gorgeous were well-known in the entertainment business. His fees were exorbitant. Among his clients were the rich, the famous, people who attempted to break the internet, as well as those who valued their privacy more than a headline.

      She hadn’t asked how he’d gotten her name. At the time, it didn’t matter because she was so excited about the project.

      Now, she wondered if the man was playing games. Her stomach clenched as a flurry of negative thoughts raced across her mind. How was it possible that he’d changed his mind as soon as he opened the door and saw her?

      She lifted her chin, her inner resolve like steel. “May I ask why?”

      His brown eyes locked with hers. “I’ve decided to go with a professional firm, rather than hire an independent architect.”

      He can’t be serious, Liza thought as she gripped the handle of her leather portfolio case, hoping the action would throw focus on another part of her body, and her pounding heart could slow down.

      After extensive research, she’d moved from Denver, Colorado, to Bay Point, California, a little more than two months ago, choosing sun and surf over her beloved snowcapped mountains. Located halfway between San Francisco and the border of Oregon, Bay Point was in the midst of a major revitalization. After years of structural and population decline, people were starting to flock to the little town on the Pacific coast to build new homes and start new businesses.

      Making the trek to Bay Point was an opportunity for her to nurture and grow her burgeoning one-woman architectural firm. She hoped the move, though fraught with risk, would pay off professionally and financially.

      “But you haven’t even given me the chance to show you my work.”

      She tightened her grip on her portfolio case. There was no way she was leaving the hospital without at least getting the opportunity to share her sketches with Dr. Marbet in person.

      He drew in a breath and paused, seeming to consider something for a moment. A few uncomfortable moments passed, and his eyes never left her face. She felt like she would melt under his gaze, but she still held on to her portfolio as tightly as she held on to her dreams.

      Finally, his eyes looked at the gold watch that slid from the edge of his pristine lab coat. He stepped aside and swept his hand toward the interior of the room.

      “Ms. Sinclair, you have fifteen minutes.”

      Liza held back a frown and nodded. When they’d spoken on the phone, she hadn’t asked how long the appointment was going to be, but she’d assumed it would be longer than it took her to take a shower.

      She slipped by him, eager to get inside before he changed his mind again.

      She’d chosen a navy silk dress, instead of a suit, to wear to the interview. The classic, sleeveless design made her feel like she was born into money, not someone who’d worked her butt off to acquire it. She resisted the urge to sashay into the room.

      Her bare arm whispered against his lab coat as she passed, sending sharp tingles up and down her skin. She could feel his eyes on her back.

      Bypassing the leather sofa along one wall, she tried to relax and headed straight for the oval conference table. The half-closed blinds tamped down the morning sunlight and cast a husky glow into the room.

      Liza set her portfolio down and turned around just as Dr. Marbet shut his office door.

      He ran a hand over his close-shaved black hair. “I’m sorry if I seemed a little rude just now, but I have a heavy surgery schedule today. Still, that’s no excuse.”

      When they’d spoken on the phone, she’d instantly loved his voice, smooth and professional at the surface, pure silk lingering just below. His words weren’t exactly an apology, but his tone had changed dramatically and that was good enough for her.

      Liza folded her arms, more from habit than annoyance. “I can come back another time if that’s more convenient for you.”

      He raised a brow, as if weighing her offer, and then shook his head. “No. Now is fine. Besides, my schedule is booked for the rest of the week.”

      Her heart quickened as he approached her and extended his arm. “Let’s start over, shall we?”

      He wasn’t smiling, but his handshake was firm and friendly. She nodded, feeling her shoulders relax just a bit. “I’d love to, and I promise that I won’t take much of your time.”

      He gently let go of her hand, leaving an invisible nest of warmth on her palm.

      “Thanks for changing your mind,” she added, watching him walk away, his steps purposeful, yet relaxed.

      Dr. Marbet closed his laptop, and three flat-screen monitors on the wall directly behind him turned off in tandem. Liza assumed they were used for viewing X-rays and other diagnostic tests.

      “I trust you’ll make my decision the right one, Ms. Sinclair,” he replied as he checked his watch again, instantly re-igniting her nerves.

      His athletic frame skirted around the desk and as he leaned against it, he seemed both nonchalant and alert.

      “I have my first patient at eight thirty, so let’s get started.”

      He unbuttoned his lab coat, revealing a crisp, blue formal shirt topped off with a bright yellow silk tie that would be outlandish on other men, but on him looked elegant and dignified.

      “As I stated on the phone, opening up a private cosmetic surgery practice has long been a dream of mine, so this project is very important to me. Tell me what you remember about my vision for the clinic.”

      Liza boldly took a few steps toward him. “I recall that you want your patients to feel welcome and at home, so the architectural design will be a cornerstone of the clinic’s success.”

      He shoved his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “Right. They already know that when they come to my clinic, they are receiving the best medical care that money can buy, so I’ve got that covered. But I want the building to be designed in such a way that their experience can be uniquely personal.”