“Dr. McNab,” he said, clapping Joss on the back until she wanted to grind her teeth. “Wherever did you find this gorgeous and talented specimen? You must tell me every detail.”
Joss bristled. How dare he call Sarah a specimen? She grew hot along the back of her neck, words of admonishment tingling on the tip of her tongue. She was saved by Sarah, who leaned into her one-armed embrace. “Actually, Mr. Sellers, it was I who found Dr. McNab. Turns out our mothers are acquainted.”
“W-well,” he stammered, something dirty and solicitous in his moist, rheumy eyes. “I’d love to hear all the details. You know,” he whispered, leaning unsteadily like a tree blowing in the wind, “about your relations. I mean, relationship,” he slurred. “I love a good love story.”
“Ah, but that’s something precious between myself and Sarah, and I know you’re a gentleman, Nathan,” Joss snapped before steering Sarah toward the others so they could make a polite departure.
“I’m really sorry about that,” Joss said as she opened the passenger door of her BMW sport utility vehicle for Sarah.
“You mean Nathan?”
“He’s gross. I’m used to him by now, but you’re not.” Joss climbed into the driver’s seat, started the car and slammed it into gear.
Sarah’s laughter surprised Joss. “Don’t worry, I’m used to icky old bastards like that. I actually had to slap one of my father’s colleagues across the face once. He was drunk and audacious enough to proposition me in a roomful of people.”
“Well, I’d kind of prefer if you didn’t have to go that far with Sellers. Or at least, my bosses would prefer you didn’t, since he bankrolls a lot of our research. He’s a harmless but incredibly annoying, horny old prick.”
“Well, thanks for coming to my rescue. Not that I needed it.”
“I know you didn’t. I was just trying to send him a subtle message.”
“Oh? And what was that?”
“That…” Joss swallowed and could not cool the heat flushing her cheeks. “That I don’t appreciate other people coming onto my, you know, girlfriend, if you will.” The word girlfriend nearly stuck in her mouth, because she’d never formally called anyone her girlfriend before. But her excuse was only part of the truth. The rest of it was that she’d wanted to feel the warmth and suppleness of Sarah against her when she’d placed her arm around her waist. And she’d been rewarded when Sarah leaned into her with her soft pliancy and her scent of wildflowers. It’d felt nice, comfortable and very much like something she wanted to do again.
“Well, you were very convincing.”
“Hey,” Joss said to change the subject. “What was that about him wanting to use some of your paintings in his stores?”
“Oh my God, I know. I wasn’t expecting that. And I’m sorry. I wasn’t angling to use the occasion to try to sell my work.”
“I know you weren’t, and there’s nothing to apologize for. I’d love to see you rewarded for putting up with the likes of him. I think you should go for it. And don’t forget to ask an exorbitant price. He can afford it.”
“You really think I should?”
“I do.” Joss shuddered. “Just keep an eye on his roaming hands.”
Sarah laughed. “All right, I will. Oh, and since we have an early day together tomorrow, what exactly are we doing?”
“Huh?”
“You told Sellers and the others that we had to leave because we have an early day ahead of us. I want to get our stories straight in case the horny old bugger ever asks me about the ‘details,’ as he called them.”
“Eww,” Joss said. “Did you get the feeling that the whole time he was talking to us he was picturing us in bed together?”
“Totally. As in every little thing he could possibly remember from every bad porn movie he’s ever seen.”
Joss grinned, ignoring the tiny pulse that had begun between her legs. “Who do you think he pictured on top?”
“You, of course.”
“Me? Why me?” Joss had a sudden stark image of Sarah on top, straddling her, with that long red hair splayed out over her full breasts, like tassels that shimmered and swayed with every undulation. She had to squeeze her legs together, the throbbing between them intensifying into a second heartbeat. She’d need to do something about that when she got home.
“Easy. Because you have that air of authority about you. The kind that a man like him would expect to extend to the bedroom.”
And would he be wrong? Joss wanted to ask. In her sexual liaisons, it was true she’d always been very much in charge, dictating the pace, the intensity, the positions, where and how often. And she’d always been the one to extricate herself in the middle of the night. But she had the distinct feeling that Sarah wouldn’t put up with those things. Which might be a nice change, she thought, again picturing Sarah on top, riding her, needing her, taking charge. The image was beginning to cause serious discomfort—in more ways than one.
“Tomorrow,” Sarah prompted as they pulled up in front of her apartment.
“Oh, right. Tomorrow.”
“What do you usually do on a Saturday?”
“I usually spend the mornings in my office catching up on paperwork. And checking in on patients, if I have any in-house.”
“How exciting,” Sarah mumbled, rolling her eyes. “How about this? Why don’t we have dinner together so we can get to know one another better? It might make it easier in our interactions at these shindigs. You know, like we actually have some history together.”
“Okay, good idea.”
“And before that, why don’t I take you shopping for clothes?”
Joss looked down at her leather jacket, which she wore over a plain white button-down shirt and gray chinos. “I don’t need to shop for clothes.”
“Actually, Joss, you do.”
“But I hate shopping for clothes.” What did it matter how she looked? She had far more important things to do with her time and energy than to shop for clothes like she was a girl, for God’s sake.
Sarah was having none of it. “We’ll try to make it fun, I promise.”
“The words fun and clothes shopping do not belong in the same sentence.”
“Obviously you’ve never been shopping with me before.”
Joss closed her eyes for an instant and pictured Sarah stripping down to her bra and underwear—Victoria’s Secret, she hoped. With lots of satin and lace. Maybe red. Or blue to match her eyes. That kind of clothes shopping she’d be happy to do. Oh, God, stop thinking about her that way! This is a professional hookup, a business arrangement and nothing more. You’re being childish. And disrespectful.
“Why don’t you pick me up at two?” Sarah said, halfway out the door.
Joss sighed, the fight gone out of her. “Okay, fine, two o’clock.”
She waited until Sarah was safely inside and wondered in astonishment at how easily and how intensely she came unglued around Sarah. Agreeing to shop for clothes? And what was with all the sex fantasies lately? Jesus! Obviously, her dry spell in the bedroom had gone on way too long.
Pulling away from the curb, she wondered with growing alarm at what the hell she was thinking, agreeing to an afternoon and evening with Sarah that was outside the parameters of their agreement. What did the fine print have to say about that? she wondered.
Chapter Six
Sarah appraised Joss in the black Armani suit, cut femininely against her trim waist and flared a bit at the shoulders to emphasize the toned muscles there. It was perfect for her, not only because it was expensive and fit flawlessly, but because it matched the quiet confidence and power she naturally exuded. When Joss walked into a room, there was the sense that something important was about to happen, that she was important, in command and completely composed. When she spoke, people listened. It was easy to picture her in an operating room, cool, efficient, unflappable, absolutely in charge, entirely trusting in her team and not only prepared to handle anything, but eager for the challenge of whatever might tra
nspire.
“Now take the jacket off,” Sarah ordered and, with satisfaction, watched Joss obey. The white shirt was stark. Too sterile. “You need some color with that suit. Something that shows a bit of personality.” She smiled at the saleswoman. “Can we get the same shirt in mint green? And deep red too. Oh, and a couple of accessories. Chunky necklaces perhaps? Or a scarf? Something that makes a statement, but not too feminine. Thank you.”
Joss chuckled softly. “Trying to turn me into a girl?”
“Just adding a few drops of estrogen to your wardrobe. It’s actually more powerful this way. It makes the statement that you’re a strong woman who doesn’t apologize for being a woman.” She lowered her voice an octave. “It’s an extremely sexy combination.”
Joss raised her eyebrows in apparent amusement. “You’ve just summed up my mother, except for the sexy part. She likes to dress well, but you’d never doubt she’s in charge, even if she were wearing a tutu.”
Sarah grinned. “I can see if they have any tutus here. Pink, perhaps?”
Joss tossed her jacket at Sarah, who scuttled out the door to allow her to change shirts but not before noticing Joss’s strong shoulders and arms, the muscles that rippled along her back.
“Now that,” Sarah said moments later on a soft whistle, “looks perfect on you. Brings out your eyes.”
Joss looked embarrassed for a moment. Clearly, she wasn’t used to compliments. At least, not compliments related to her looks. And yet she was a very handsome woman. Strong jawed, with lips that were just full enough for long, deep kisses, angular cheekbones that hinted at Eastern European blood and eyes that were direct and intense but held a measure of mystery. She was sexy. Sexy in a strong and authoritative way, but with a streak of underlying vulnerability too. For a moment, Sarah let herself imagine what it would take to melt that cool demeanor of Joss’s. To make her forget she was in charge, to make her forget she had to be strong and so intensely private and so utterly perfect every single minute.
“I don’t think this is fair,” Joss challenged. “I’m the one doing all the modeling. I think it’s time you gave me a break.” To the saleswoman, Joss said she’d take the black Armani suit, an identical dove gray one and the red and green shirts with their matching necklaces and scarves. The woman nodded politely, draped the items over her arm and scurried away.
“You want me to try something on?”
“Yes. Something tight and slinky and classy. Next weekend is our annual LGBT MD dinner and dance.”
“That’s a lot of acronyms, but I’m guessing it’s a bunch of gay doctors getting together?”
“You guessed right. It’s for the gay medical staff and faculty at the hospital and the students and staff at the med school. I’m on the committee, so I have to give a little speech and sit at the head table and act all important.”
“Nice.” Sarah winked. “So why don’t you wear the slinky dress?”
“Not a chance, now that I’ve got these new Armani suits. Besides, I’ve never brought anyone to one of these things before. Your presence will definitely elevate my reputation among that particular crowd. And set more than a few tongues wagging.”
“I get it. You want someone to show off.”
“It’ll add to my mysterious charm having some eye candy on my arm for a change.” Joss’s grin collapsed as she stepped closer. “I hope you know it’s not really like that. I mean, that I value only your beauty and all that superficial window-dressing crap. I’m only kidding around. I enjoy your company.” Joss winced. “You actually make these events bearable.”
A teasing grin came only after Sarah made Joss wait for it. “Eye candy, huh?” It’d been a long time since a woman had paid her this kind of attention. The fact that it was literally paid attention didn’t seem to matter at this juncture. Joss made her feel beautiful and appreciated and that was something she didn’t want to let go of just yet.
“You’re a very beautiful woman, Sarah.” Joss took another step closer. Her face was guarded but not her eyes. Her eyes told the truth, and they looked at Sarah as though she’d never said those words to another woman before and meant them the way she did now. Her lips were twitching in a rare show of nervousness, Sarah noticed. “In fact, I’m sure people look at us and wonder why the hell a woman like you is with someone like me.”
Sarah swallowed, her throat suddenly dry as old driftwood. She had the fleeting urge to kiss Joss, to demonstrate that in fact she did belong at her side. And kissing her was exactly what she would do if Joss were her date and not her employer. Instead, she stepped back and forced a laugh that sounded hollow, at least to her ears. “Now that’s the pot calling the kettle black. You’re the one who’s the successful surgeon, and I’m the very unsuccessful artist who’s been living off her father, remember? Talk about out of my league!”
Joss stepped back too and closed herself up, the moment abruptly gone as if a door had slammed shut. “How about we call it a draw, and you try on a nice dress? I’d like to buy you one if you see something you like.”
Ah, yes, Sarah thought with disappointment. A timely reminder that they were together because they had an agreement. Well, if Joss wanted to buy her a dress so she’d look especially good for a particular event, it was her prerogative to do so.
Sarah all but saluted. “Certainly. I’ll be right back.”
* * *
Joss had to sit down when Sarah emerged from the curtained part of the massive changing room. It was that or fall down. The dress was black and silver, and in the light it glimmered from tiny sequins everywhere like a million stars dotting an inky sky. It fit her perfectly—a sparkly, sleek glove snug over the length of her body—and the effect was dizzying. “Wow.”
“You like it?” Sarah twirled around, and Joss sucked in a breath. She was so womanly with her soft curves—the dress revealing a round behind, strong and supple thighs that looked smooth as butter beneath the soft fabric. Creamy came to mind. And her breasts! They were so round and full, soft and tight at the same time—a place where Joss could lay her head and sleep and dream forever, a place of refuge where she could forget the exhaustion, the politics and sometimes the heartbreak of her job. Like that time she’d lost a five-year-old on her OR table. Talking about what had gone wrong was something she could—and did—discuss with her colleagues. That night when she had gone home, however, there was no one there to whom she could unburden her emotions. Having someone like Sarah to listen without judgment or condemnation was something Joss hadn’t really thought about before, but now she could think of little else.
She forced such neediness from her head. Forced too from her head thoughts about Sarah’s breasts and luscious curves. It was damned inappropriate. And rude. She was sure Sarah was sick to death of one-dimensional and sexist attention from men and maybe from some women too. Joss had no use for those who considered women like Sarah to be no better than objects or accessories to be taken out and shown off like a piece of jewelry or a fancy car. Which, Joss assured herself, was not what she was doing. She appreciated Sarah for her mind and personality as much as for her physical attributes. For one brief and weak moment, she wished Sarah really was hers, that this wasn’t all a paid circus act.
“I, ah…” Joss quickly gathered her wits. “It looks great. I’d love for you to have it. If you’ll accept it, of course.”
“It’s too expensive, Joss. The tag says nineteen hundred dollars.”
“No, we’ll take it. It’s perfect on you. Is there anything else you’d like to try on?”
“No, I think this is already too much.” Sarah disappeared behind the curtain, and Joss could hear the soft swish of the dress sliding from her shoulders and down her body. “Besides, I thought you hated shopping for clothes.”
“I do. I did. But today it’s…it’s not so bad after all.”
The truth was, she could watch Sarah try on outfits all day if it meant she got a private showing like this. She had looked good in anything, but that dress!
That dress was incredible on her. She couldn’t wait for Sarah to wear it to their event, even if it meant every woman in the place wanted to be the one to take it off her. It wasn’t lost on her that she wouldn’t be taking it off Sarah either.
It had begun to concern her that for long, whimsical moments it was easy—too easy—to forget Sarah was not really her girlfriend, to mistake this make-believe world she’d created with her as real. It was a useless thought to waste time on, but part of her wondered if Sarah would ever actually go out with her for real. Not that she had any intention of exploring the idea further. The problem was that she had no time for dating nor the inclination. Being married to her work had cut off all avenues to a serious relationship a long time ago. Every woman she’d tried to date had terminated things very quickly, and she couldn’t blame them. Sarah, she felt sure, would be no exception, because she, and rightly so, would expect much more. No, Joss reminded herself, their little arrangement was perfect the way it was.
“You ready for our next stop?” Sarah asked, the dress draped carefully over her arm.
“Dinner, you mean?”
“Nope. The stop before that.”
They waited at the counter, Joss’s platinum credit card in hand, as the saleswoman rang up their purchases. “I don’t think I have much more shopping left in my tank.”
“Good, because we’re not shopping. We’re going to a hair salon.”
Joss drew a panicked breath. “Don’t tell me you’re going to color your hair? I love your natural color. That is your natural color, right?”
Sarah smiled appreciatively. “Yes. Thank you. And no, the appointment isn’t for me. It’s for you.”
“What? Me? I had my hair cut last week. Any shorter and I’ll be marching on parade with the marines.”
Sarah’s laughter was not the least bit deprecating. “I love the length of your hair.” She reached up and ruffled it for effect. “But I think a lighter shade of blond highlights would look spectacular on you.”
“Oh no. No highlights for me.” Highlights were for vain people who wanted to look like sun worshippers. Or young, unemployed beach bums.
By Mutual Consent Page 5
