Doctor's Orders Box Set (Babies in the Bargain, Right Name, Wrong Man, No More Lies)

by Risk, Mona

  “Does he know he has a daughter?” Be fair. Jerk or not, a man should not be deprived of his own flesh and blood. Luc would get to the bottom of the story later. Right now he still reeled from her lack of trust in him ten years ago. “Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

  “I couldn’t. You’d have asked too many questions that I wasn’t ready to answer. You’d have insisted I tell Melissa the truth and maybe inform her father.”

  “You know me well.” His jaw hardened.

  Luc couldn’t forgive lies. He’d never forgiven Brigitte for marrying her rich politician without telling Luc she was pregnant with his child. She’d notified him when the toddler, suffering from leukemia, had needed a bone-marrow donor. It had been too late. Luc had met his son on his deathbed.

  Thank God, Olivia was no Brigitte. She hadn’t dumped him to marry for money.

  Tears shone in Olivia’s eyes, and a soft sob escaped her. “I’ve tried so hard to forget the past.”

  Although he was still nonplussed by her lack of trust, he couldn’t resent her for protecting her daughter. Unlike Brigitte, Olivia had suffered for her child’s sake.

  He ran a soothing hand over her hair, stunned by this new side of Olivia. The strong assertive psychiatrist, the cool woman always in control was now replaced by a mother in distress worrying about her daughter’s peace of mind. His sense of protectiveness on alert, he gathered her in his arms.

  “Don’t cry, please.” He waited for her to calm down. She’d braved a lot of problems on her own but collapsed at the mere mention of a threat to her daughter.

  “I’m sorry.” She sniffled. “I hate to talk about that time in my life.”

  “I understand.” He would have to be patient and tread carefully around her past secrets. Now that her daughter was grown up, Olivia had probably realized it was time to move on with her life, and she’d recommended him for the visiting professor position. What more could he ask for?

  He cradled her face between his hands and smiled. “Feeling better?”

  She nodded and returned his smile. He studied her features, the wetness of her lashes, the mauve shadows probably due to lack of sleep, and the dimple on her left cheek he used to tickle with the tip of his finger.

  His eyes dropped to her luscious lips. Nothing cool or serene here. He watched them quiver as she followed the direction of his gaze. “Olivia, I will help you forget the past.”

  He bent over her mouth for a quick peck, a soft comforting kiss. His lips fluttered against hers in a gentle caress, then paused. He couldn’t draw back. Not now when he was at the gate of paradise. With the slightest pressure, he pulled her closer. Uncontrollable need built inside him.

  She, too, seemed to be waiting. He nibbled at the corner of her mouth and tried to ignore the way blood pulsed in his groin. “Ma chérie.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned into him.

  He trailed kisses along her cheek to her forehead. “How I missed you.” His chest burned, and his lungs filled with her perfume and the scent of her skin.

  “Oh Luc.” She raised her head and took a deep breath. The luminescent aqua of her eyes held him enthralled but he wouldn’t rush her and risk losing her when he’d just found her again. Whispering French endearments against her hair, he waited for a hint of an invitation.

  Years of frustrating loneliness flipped through his mind as he mentally urged her to come to him, to relax in his arms. She clasped her fingers around his nape and he instantly claimed her mouth in a searing kiss, the kiss he’d given her a thousand times in his fantasies. Parting her lips, his tongue explored and played and tasted as he molded her lithe form against him.

  How he wanted her. She moaned and clung to his neck, returning his kiss with the same passion that had set him on fire in the past. He was home now, with Olivia in his arms. There was hope for them.

  His lips glided along her cheek, and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I am so glad you invited me. I will protect you and Melissa. Everything will be fine. I will help you get rid of your fears. I promise.”

  Things would work out, and in time they would inform Melissa of the truth about her father.

  For a crazy moment, Olivia tried to believe him, to imagine she could spend the rest of her life in his arms and make up for the time wasted away from him for her daughter’s sake. He still wanted her, in spite of the beautiful women who had hung on his arm and probably graced his bed.

  Ten years ago, her heart bleeding with concealed love, she’d let him believe she’d never cared enough about him to give up a promising career at UC and follow him to Paris.

  If it wasn’t for Melissa, she’d have followed him to the end of the earth.

  Now Melissa was sixteen, soon to have her own life. Olivia touched her swollen lips, hesitating.

  Kiss him. You’ll talk later.

  But she wouldn’t lie now. No matter what it cost, she couldn’t let him build dreams based on a lie.

  “No, Luc. I didn’t invite you.” She gazed at the endearing curve of his lips and caressed his cheek, trying to lessen the blow she was about to strike.

  “But I received McMillan’s letter and your recommendation.” His smile slowly faded, and his eyes narrowed.

  She sighed, hating herself for the disappointment she’d inflict. Again. “I only evaluated your publications. They were good.”

  “Olivia, explain yourself.” He let go of her, stepped back and crossed his arms. “I am tired of guessing games.”

  “I knew you as Luc George.” She touched his arm. Now that she’d tasted his kisses again, she craved more. He’d been the perfect lover, strong, generous and tender. And so handsome. God, how she longed to be held tightly against the solid length of his muscular body.

  “You are digressing.” He stared at her, his voice frosty. Conflicting emotions flashed across his face.

  “I read several papers written by Dr. Toulon-Chatel. The Directeur du Centre des Maladies Mentales.” She dropped her hand and shrugged. It was too late to escape reality. “Luc, I never made the connection. I didn’t know your new name.”

  His eyes held hers, denial darkening their beautiful blue. “But this morning you had my picture on your monitor?”

  Tense silence fell between them.

  She owed him the truth. “I was checking your website for the first time. I thought Dr. Toulon-Chatel was an older physician, but I saw your picture and panicked.” Her voice came out shaky and strained. “If you weren’t already here, I would have stopped you from coming.”

  There, she’d said it all. And she hated herself.

  Luc scanned her face, eyes, mouth, as if he was seeing her for the first time. As if he’d discovered a monster instead of the woman he’d loved.

  Her heart twisted. To lose him just when she’d found him again. To lose him twice by her own words and deeds.

  “I’m sorry, Luc.”

  A muscle worked at the base of his throat. “I am the one who is sorry. Such a naïveté on my part is unprecedented. As a renowned psychiatrist, I have miserably failed to understand you.”

  “Luc, please—”

  “Too late.” His gaze cold, suddenly intolerant, he raised his hand like a barrier between them. “From now on, our relationship will be strictly professional. I will act the unknown physician you wanted to receive.”

  He turned and walked toward the house.

  Her heart wrenched. Olivia watched him stride over the grass, tall and proud.

  Since the moment he’d stepped in her office, she’d wished he’d never come and tried to tell him to go away, but now that she’d tasted his passion, she couldn’t conceal her tears. Tears of regret for her wasted life without love. Tears of frustration at the conflict between her heart and her brain. She’d thought herself a strong person, immune to a man’s charm. And she had been—until Luc.

  With a shaky hand, she dabbed her eyes and her cheeks, and then took a deep breath to collect herself before she joined her hosts.

&nbs
p; Melissa, if you only knew how much your mother gave up to protect you.

  She’d tried to escape the past, but it had caught up to threaten her present.

  ****

  It was only five in the morning when Luc parked his host’s Mercedes in its reserved spot at the CUH parking lot. The night before, the chairman had decided he would spend the day at home packing, and he’d handed Luc a bunch of keys.

  The dinner at the McMillans’ had tested Luc’s endurance. He’d imbibed a whole bottle of wine and engaged his host in a lengthy comparison between the California and the Bourgogne Merlot. Olivia had babbled non-stop with Susan McMillan and swallowed her food in record time before waving good night and walking out.

  Luc entered McMillan’s office and switched on the lights. He needed to immerse himself in work. His mind still reeled from Olivia’s admission that she’d tried to stop his invitation. He’d rehashed their conversation for a good part of the night. To think she’d dated him, slept with him, and appeared to love him, and she’d hidden the fact she had a daughter.

  In the past, he’d often noticed her unexplainable silences, when, eyes fixed in the distance, she withdrew into her thoughts. Now he understood her refusal to go out on weekends when she probably visited her parents and daughter. She’d made it up to him during the week and even invited him to her place.

  The tiny apartment had surprised him. Bare walls, naked of photos, souvenirs, or any hint of her tastes. The total lack of personality presented an unexpected contrast with the woman he loved. He’d given her a painting of the Eiffel Tower and hung it on her wall. When he questioned her about the austerity of her apartment, she shrugged, claimed she was too busy with her studies and dismissed his doubts with a kiss.

  One by one the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

  Mon Dieu, how could he have not guessed she was hiding something?

  For a whole year, he’d ignored the niggling warning that something was strange about Olivia’s introversion. At the time he’d refused to analyze the woman so dear to his heart, and he’d let love obscure his judgment.

  Not anymore, he pledged to himself.

  When he had to go back to France because his student visa had expired, Olivia was still doing her residency at UC and was not ready to expatriate herself. For a few years, he’d bombarded her with phone calls and e-mails. He’d thought she would change her mind soon enough.

  But she hadn’t.

  And now? Although he’d kept tabs on her work and achievements, he hadn’t seen her for years. She wasn’t married, but what if she had another man in her life?

  Enfer et damnation! It can’t be.

  Heat and passion had scorched him as she clung to his neck and molded herself to him. And her kiss had lit a fire in his gut. His groin hardened at the thought she’d wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  Had he been too inflexible, too arrogant in his demand for the truth?

  Last night, he’d told her their relationship would be strictly professional. He snorted, knowing there was no way on earth he’d keep such a promise. Even if she hadn’t called him back, he would be here for six months, and he planned to put his presence to good use. When he calmed down he’d try to discover the secrets that frightened her, convert her to his faith in truth above all. Until then, he’d have to ignore her and force his body to cooperate.

  Now, only work would ease the terrible headache hammering at his temples. Luc opened the Rutherford file, sifted through the papers and started reading, jotting notes on a pad.

  Quite an interesting case of antisocial behavior, mental disorders and sexual sadism. He could understand that such a case might repulse a sensitive nature, especially if the violent patient had hurt someone close to her. A relative or a friend? Maybe he’d ask Olivia a few questions. As a doctor, she wouldn’t mind helping treat the patient, if only to prevent another drama, would she?

  A light knock on the door interrupted his study.

  “Entrez.” He raised his head, surprised by the brightness of the morning sun flooding his office. It was already nine.

  The door opened. Olivia walked in, pale but unbending in a navy pantsuit and light blue blouse. He wanted to leap out of his chair, hold her in his arms and ask her to trust him.

  A tightening of his muscles reminded him she was off limits, although they would have to work side by side. What had he done to le bon Dieu to deserve such a fate? He sucked in a deep breath, inhaling her Arpège. The heady fragrance could make a man forget the time of the day.

  Luc clenched his fingers. “Bonjour.”

  “Uh-oh.” She scanned the office, a frown knitting her forehead. “Good morning. Where’s Doc?”

  “He is not coming today.” Realizing too late his voice sounded gruff, he struggled to be more civilized. “Please, have a seat.”

  She glanced at the chair and shook her head. “I have several consultations today. The first one starts in a few minutes.” She pursed her lips as she squinted at the file on his desk, and then she tilted her head. “Would you be interested?”

  “Absolutely.” He collected the sheets of paper scattered in front of him.

  She pointed at the folder he’d just closed. “What’s this?”

  “The Rutherford file. I started studying the case.”

  “Oh.” Her lips quivered in disgust.

  “We can discuss it whenever you want.”

  “I have more urgent cases to handle.” She spun around and walked out.

  No need to ask her about Jeremy’s victim now.

  He followed her into the hallway leading to the Crisis Center, his gaze locked on the gentle sway of her hips. She seemed to favor severe pantsuits and conservative blouses. He sighed, wishing to see her again in a frilly sundress or sexy shorts. Something more feminine to reveal her shapely legs.

  Shaking his head, Luc raised his eyes away from temptation and admired her slender neck and the curls sweeping her shoulders.

  Zut alors. If he wanted his body to ignore her, he was taking the wrong approach.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The young couple waiting for Olivia in the consultation room held each other’s hands. Both in their mid-twenties, they exchanged a wary look when she sat at her desk and signaled to Luc to take a chair next to her.

  “Good morning. I’m Dr. Crane. We are lucky to have Dr. Luc give a second opinion on your case today.” Olivia purposely avoided Luc’s long name for fear the nervous couple might run out of the door.

  She scanned their medical records and frowned, slowing down while she focused on the answers they’d filed.

  Incredible. Of all the mental disorders she usually faced, her first joint patients with Luc had to suffer from sexual disorders. Cripes, why couldn’t they have a normal depression or a healthy schizophrenia?

  Not to worry. She’d handled worse situations. She held out the sheets to Luc. “Peter and Carla have already had a physical and a full battery of tests. They were referred to our Crisis Center by their respective doctors.”

  “Good,” said Luc as he shuffled through the papers.

  Olivia crossed her hands on her desk and faced the three-hundred pound male patient. “Peter, can you describe the symptoms you experienced the last time you had intercourse?”

  The heavy man shifted in his chair. “Carla and I have been living together for the past two months, and—”

  “And for the last two months he hasn’t been able to keep it up after he enters me,” the skinny Carla blurted out.

  Embarrassed, Peter nodded, lowered his head, and mumbled, “I don’t know why. I want to make love to Carla. And I’m aroused. But then I lose it and can’t stay inside. Last time Carla got mad and punched me in the chest.”

  “And you didn’t touch me for a week.” Carla threw a nasty look at her companion. “If a man loves a woman, he’s supposed to show it with kisses and caresses.” She turned to Olivia. “Right, doctor?”

  Olivia felt Luc’s heavy gaze on her. She could swear he wanted t
o agree with the woman but was too professional to make a comment now. After the fiasco of last night’s confrontation, Olivia wouldn’t let him lay a finger on her.

  She resolutely turned toward her patient. “I understand how you feel, Carla, but Peter has a medical problem. We can help him.”

  Peter’s shoulders caved in. “Carla, how do you expect me to touch you when you yell so much?” His voice was surprisingly weak for such a bulky man.

  “What is the point of getting married if you won’t touch me?”

  “Please.” Olivia tapped on her desk. “I don’t think you are ready to get married yet. Are you taking any medication, Peter?”

  “No, doctor.”

  “He should take Viagra.” Carla snorted, then shot a glance at Olivia. “Hey, doctor, can you give him some Viagra?”

  “First, I’m going to refer you to a sex therapy clinic to help with the erectile disorder.” She jotted a few notes on her pad then turned toward Luc. “Dr. Luc, what’s your opinion?”

  “I concur with Dr. Crane’s decision. The tests indicate we can eliminate diabetic neuropathy and any organic causes. The Masters and Johnson’s sensate focus exercises will help you explore ways of giving physical pleasure to each other without the psychological demands of demonstrating sexual competence.”

  “You mean he’ll be able to give me pleasure without an erection?”

  “Yes, Carla,” Luc said, while glancing at Olivia. “When a man really loves a woman, he can give her unforgettable pleasure.”

  Olivia forgot her patients as her eyes widened on Luc. There was such heat in his gaze she swallowed, her fingers clenching around her pen.

  “But what about my hard—my erection?” With an anguished frown, Peter crossed his hands on his belly, protecting his groin.

  “Hopefully, it will come in time. The Masters and Johnson’s is an excellent method.” Luc reassured him with a smile.

  Eager to end the awkward moment, Olivia scribbled a couple of prescriptions and gave them to Peter. “Now I want you both to relax. You’ll be fine if you follow the treatment they’ll give you at the sex therapy clinic. They’ll send me a report after each session. I’ll see you both in a month.” She accompanied them to the door and then resumed her place behind the desk.