by Mona Moore
COLD FASCINATION
Copyright 2017 by Mona Moore
All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the author, Mona Moore.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Author's Note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older, not related and have lost their virginity long before the story began.
CHAPTER ONE
Scarlett McMillan considered herself in the mirror hanging in the hallway, half expecting to see a different woman than the one she was the last time she’d looked. However, her curvy body, wavy auburn hair, and brown doe eyes were still hers; still broken by the pain of the last few months. Inside, she knew she was a changed woman. Once, she had been confident and secure; now, she was a shadow of who she used to be.
Standing just inside of the bedroom door, she stared sullenly at the crumpled bedsheets and folded her arms slowly beneath her breasts. It was difficult not to envision the two bodies writhing beneath the covers; remnants of a nightmare she couldn’t shake clear from her mind. The blonde’s head was thrown back in ecstasy as the man gripped her hips, rolling her over him like a wave. She cried out with pleasure, her breasts jiggling as he pounded into her over and over again. He was growling like a beast, and she, weeping with intense pleasure.
It had been eight months since she had caught her husband Frank sleeping with his secretary in their bed. It had been eight months since she’d even had the nerve to walk back into the bedroom without feeling physically ill. Scarlett could not un-see what she’d seen, and everything was exactly as she’d left it. She hadn’t touched a single thing.
Rubbing her lips with the tips of her fingers, she sighed and backed out of the master bedroom. Turning left, she entered the guest room and sat heavily on the edge of the plush double bed. She glanced at the alarm clock flashing 7 am and closed her eyes tightly. It was going to be another day of going through the motions; only today was going to be different. Scarlett wasn’t sure how much more she could take of trying to pretend like she was alright when she wasn’t. Deep down inside, Scarlett always knew that Frank had been screwing around on her behind her back. For the five years they had been married, he’d been faithful for maybe one of those years, and that number was being entirely too generous.
Now that the divorce was final, though, Scarlett felt she’d had it with the sulking and was ready to get back into the swing of being a powerful New York mediator and divorce lawyer. Her colleagues and boss had expressed some concerns about her coming back to work so soon. They’d recommended that she deal appropriately with her issues before working with any new clients. Within herself, Scarlett was sure that although it would be difficult to return to work, she was still the firm's top attorney. Nothing would hold her back from keeping it that way. Certainly not a man like Frank.
Just as she was grabbing her purse to walk out the door, the phone rang, and she reached for it mechanically. “Hello?”
“You have to get out of bed.” Commanded her mother on the other line.
“I am out of bed,” Scarlett replied in a monotone voice.
There was a sigh. “Sweetheart, you have to move on with your life. Frank was an asshole before you married him. Assholes don’t change; they just get darker and uglier with time.”
Scarlett pressed her fingers to her temple. “What is it, mom?”
“There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Her mother certainly didn’t like to waste any time. Scarlett loved the woman, of course, but she was one of those meddling parents who thought she knew what was best for her children; always giving unwanted advice and checking in even though her daughter was 32-years-old. Shaking her head, she hugged her midriff and pursed her lips. “I’m not ready to date. It’s only been a month since we finalized the divorce.”
There was a pause; a very long stretch of silence on the other line before her mother finally spoke again. “He’s not coming back, Red.”
She swallowed down the despair in her throat like a bitter tonic. “I know.”
“Your father and I are having a dinner party Saturday night for some clients. We’d like you to meet someone. He’s a doctor.”
The way the word ‘doctor’ dripped off her mother’s tongue was almost obscene. Rolling her eyes, Scarlett took a deep breath and bit her lip. “We’ll see, mom. I’ve got a lot coming up at work, just getting back and all, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it. I won’t say no, but I’m not going to say yes either, ok? I'll think about it. Right now, I should go. Love you, Mom."
"I love you too, honey."
Scarlett hung up and took a deep breath. Her mother meant well, she knew it as surely as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west, but she had awful timing. Hastily, Scarlett gathered her things and walked out of her house, the only thing she had wanted to keep from their marriage, and got into her Mercedes. The ride into work was excruciatingly slow, and she couldn’t wait to get there.
It felt great and familiar walking into the seven-story office building and taking the elevator up to the top where the law firm she worked for was situated. She put a smile on her pink rose-colored lips as she strutted past the receptionist. All eyes were on her as she marched into the office with her head held as high as it could go. There were a series of brief ‘Welcome back’ and ‘Glad to see you’ comments as she made her way through the office and down the hall to the door marked SCARLETT MCMILLAN - DIVORCE LAWYER & MEDIATOR. It was right there waiting for her just as she’d left it.
In a way, it felt good to be back, but deep down Scarlett felt a twinge of doubt. Still, she experienced relief and comfort being surrounded by the things she knew best; the rules never let her down. She sat staring at the walls for a brief moment before George Lockhead, head Partner at Lockhead, Philips & Associates popped his balding head into her office.
“Welcome back!” He announced with a broad smile, waltzing freely into the room and sitting in the large leather seat opposite her desk. He steepled his fingers below his chin and stared intently at her with his large, intelligent brown eyes. “How are you holding up, Scarlett?”
Scarlett gave him a weak smile and leaned back into her chair. She waved her hand loosely in the air and shrugged. “It is what it is, George. It’s been a month. I’ve taken the time to grieve and come to terms with it. Now I’m ready to get back to work.”
George gave her the necessary look of sympathy and reached across the desk for her hand. He squeezed it. “I think you need a little more time off.”
“No,” Scarlett snapped then quickly closed her eyes at the harshness of her reply. “I-I’m sorry, George. I know you mean well, but I need to work. I’ve moped around enough. I need to be around other people. I’ve spent an entire month locked away in my home, by myself. Please, don’t force me to take more time off. I need this right now.”
“Very well,” George conceded and then delved into his blazer pocket producing a business card and presented it to her like a cheese platter. “But you have to promise me that you’ll call up Doctor Winters and make an appointment.”
Scarlett took the card slowly and held it loosely between her red tipped fingers, trying not to gape. A shrink?
She looked up at her boss incredulously and gave an abrupt laugh. “I don’t need to see a Psychiatrist.”
Holding up his hands, palm out, George closed his eyes and sighed. “Scarlett, I think you should. Considering your line of work, it might be beneficial. You’ll be dealing with the drama and grief that comes with divorce daily. Four months is not enough time to sufficiently deal with the loss of a marriage. You know this.”
“I don’t need ---“
“Scarlett,” George admonished. “This isn’t up for discussion.”
“Is my job at stake?” She asked quietly. When George didn’t say anything, she had her answer.
Pressing her lips together in a firm line, Scarlett let her eyes travel back down to the business card in her hand. It was obsolete white and simply said: DR. CHARLES WINTERS - PSYCHIATRIST. She shook her head. It was almost impossible to believe she was being forced to go and get her head shrunk. After all the years of work and loyalty she’d given to this firm, they automatically assumed the worst of her. Did they think that just because she’d divorced her husband, she wasn’t fit to handle her job anymore? If anything, she felt as if she had inside knowledge now on what some her clients might be feeling in situations like this, but if the Partners wanted her to see a Psychiatrist, then that was what she would have to do.
Turning her eyes back to George, she lifted her chin and nodded curtly. “I’ll call immediately.”
After George had left her office, Scarlett sunk into her chair and dropped her head into the palms of her hands. She had no choice but to make the appointment and do as George asked. If the Partners felt like she needed to see a Psychiatrist to maintain her work level, then so be it. Proving to them that her mind was clear and ready to perform was all she needed to do. Without any further hesitation, Scarlett placed the call to Doctor Winters offices, made an appointment for the following day and then called for her first consultation of the morning.
CHAPTER TWO
Everything was white; the walls, the floors, even the filing station. It was all so sterile looking. Yes, sterile. That was the perfect word to describe the offices of Doctor Charles Winters. When she’d called in yesterday, the receptionist had given her a 9 am appointment. It was currently 9:45 am, and the Doctor was still not there. Fantastic.
Scarlett sat quietly in one of the white plastic chairs in the reception area and found her eyes riveted to the secretary’s scarlet lipstick. It was the only splash of color in an otherwise colorless room save for a painting of the ocean in mid-undulation on the wall to her left. Clearing her throat slightly, Scarlett smiled when the secretary, named Dawn, looked up at her haphazardly and then looked away. Dawn’s lab coat was whiter than anything else in the room if that was even possible. She made a mental note of asking about where they got their dry-cleaning done.
The phone on the desk buzzed and Dawn gingerly pressed the receiver to her ear. There was a string of mumbled phrases said under breath before Dawn finally looked up and smiled a 1000-watt smile at Scarlett. Her teeth were, astonishingly, whiter than her lab coat.
“Doctor Winters will see you now.” Dawn informed her. “Please leave your shoes by the door.”
That seemed like an odd practice, but she complied nonetheless. Scarlett rose from her perch, removed her shoes and placed them on the mat and then strode with purpose through the large white door to her right. She felt like she needed sunglasses. Once again, the colorless scheme presented itself in Doctor Winters office. It was alarmingly bright with the only contrast being the solid, black marble desk and a long black leather lounge opposite it. Scarlett felt instant anxiety and began to chew absentmindedly on her bottom lip.
“It’s not for everyone.” Came a calm, deep voice to her left.
“E-excuse me,” She stuttered, her eyes jerking toward the sound and she found herself staring at one of the most good-looking men she had ever seen in her life.
Doctor Winters smiled broadly. His full lips curved ear-to-ear, and he approached her with a warm hand extended forward. Scarlett slipped hers inside of his and shook it, an almost instant tingle starting in her palm and fingertips before shooting straight down to her sex. Okay! She snapped her hand back immediately. Those eyes. Like the painting in the Reception area. They weren’t quite blue, and not quite aqua, but they were - incredible.
“All the white.” Doctor Winters said, spinning a finger around to indicate the colorless walls. His teeth were perfect. “I wanted to keep the place neutral, but found that the scheme in its subtle lack of color, ironically, brought to the surface all my patient’s problems and anxieties.”
“Right.” She murmured, confused by the erratic beating of her heart. Her fingers still tingled slightly. So did her sex. She swallowed around the lump of nervousness in her throat. “I’m Scarlett McMillan.”
Doctor Winters nodded briskly and smiled again. “I know.”
He was oddly jarring but in the most incredibly attractive way. He dressed casually in a Polo and khakis, not quite what she’d been expecting, and his hair was a dark, sandy blond. But those eyes. Those magnificently strange eyes crinkled at the corners with friendliness. It was as if they could see straight down into her soul. He motioned for her to have a seat on the lounge and promptly made his way around to the back of his desk where he perched on some backless seat she could not see. Scarlett’s eyes traveled to the empty space at the front and found Doctor Winters feet to be bare. She arched a brow and sat straight up.
This was going to be interesting.
"So, the paperwork says you’re here because of a divorce and that your boss doesn’t seem to think you’re ready to return to work?” It came out as a calm statement rather than a question, so Scarlett just nodded in confirmation.
"Well, I guess the best place to start is for you to tell me about your relationship with your ex-husband, anything that seems relevant." His voice was calm and soft. Suddenly, he paused. “Scarlett. What a lovely name. And what is it that you do for a living again, Scarlett?”
Feeling the color drain from her face, Scarlett licked at the corner of her mouth and smiled sheepishly. “I’m a divorce lawyer specializing in mediation.”
“Ahhhh,” Doctor Winters said finally with a nod of understanding. “I see. Well, let’s start at the beginning, shall we?”
She stared at him hard for a moment, not sure what to make of him complimenting her name and certainly not sure where to start. Scarlett decided to ignore the compliment and jump right in. “I found my ex-husband fucking his twenty-four-year-old secretary in our bed. I’ve just gone back to work yesterday.”
“Okay,” He said slowly, an odd expression crossing his features fleetingly as he folded his long fingers beneath his chiseled chin and waited for Scarlett to continue. She had an irrational urge to climb onto his desk and bite his bottom lip.
Shaking her head to erase her mind of that vision, she took his silence as permission to tell him more. She explained her comfort in the marriage and around him and how she had never questioned anything about him or his work, assuming all his words were at face value. Though, in the back of her mind, she had always had some questions about his business trips and work hours. Subconsciously, she must have known something was going on, especially when the two had slowed down in their sex life, but she let it go, though in hindsight she knew the truth. She wanted to trust a man that she clearly couldn't. Through her explanation of her marriage, Charles stayed oddly silent. She had never seen a man listen so intently, and found herself strangely attracted to that.
“Why did he cheat on you?” Doctor Winters asked.
Scarlett’s head shot up, and she found herself meeting those strange aqua eyes as though they were magnets. Her mouth opened to speak but snapped shut almost as quickly as it had opened. She began to gnaw on the inside of her lip but stopped immediately when Doctor Winters’ gaze zeroed in on her mouth. It sent a strange tingling sensation up the back of her neck.
“I don’t know why.” She lied.
/> "Okay," he said, calmly, leaning forward in his seat as if he was just hanging out with a buddy, "What is your relationship with your parents? What was it like growing up with them? Were they religious?"
Scarlett felt a little grilled and overwhelmed, but something in his energy pressed her on to talk about how her mother was a little meddlesome but that they were still close. She also made mention of her family being Catholic, though she wasn't necessarily practicing currently. That seemed to interest him, and they went off on a tangent about her moral beliefs. She was coming off as more and more of a prude as the hour progressed.
The conversation continued that way, going in every direction possible for 45 minutes. His intensity was nerve-wracking, and she felt herself sweating slightly. Those eyes stayed glued to her as he hung on every word she said. There was no doubt in her mind that if she had the opportunity, she would let him bend her over a desk and fuck her brains out. This, of course, was a disturbing thought for her because she didn’t usually get so randy around men. Scarlett assumed it was because she hadn’t had sex in well over a year and chalked it up to that.
Doctor Winters was quite the specimen, however. One she wasn’t typically attracted to as Scarlett usually found herself more inclined to admire men in business suits. Certainly, not one who looked like he was better suited to the Golf club than the Doctors Office.
Finally, when the time was up, she stood and thanked him. But he caught her at the office door, with his first real suggestion of the appointment. "From all I’ve learned so far, I would highly suggest some sex therapy for you, Ms. McMillan."
