Paging Dr. Hot

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Paging Dr. Hot Page 10

by Sophia Knightly


  Sheesh. Men and all that testosterone. Harrison was marking me as his territory—like a dog. I know he’s a vet, but that’s carrying things too far.

  I can’t help staring at Alex’s handsome profile as we coast down Old Cutler Road in his insanely posh Lamborghini. Alex’s thick black hair frames his sharp jaw and Latin features. For the sake of my hair, which frizzes in the humidity, I’m glad he agreed that we ride in air-conditioning with the convertible top up.

  Good thing Romeo was civil toward him. He didn’t exactly lick Alex’s hand when he petted him, but he didn’t lunge at him like he did when he met Dr. Hamme.

  “What is your relationship with that Harrison guy?” Alex turns to study me with penetrating eyes.

  “He’s my dog’s vet…and my neighbor.” I already told him that when I introduced them. What is this leading up to?

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes.” No, but you don’t need to know that Harrison is doing a number on my head—actually on all of me.

  “He acts like he’s more than that. He told me to bring you back early and had the nerve to question my boating ability.”

  “Oh, haha, that’s just like Harrison,” I say, laughing it off. “Don’t pay attention to him. He’s my best friend, Chloe’s, cousin. That’s why he’s a little overprotective sometimes—like a big brother.”

  “Hmph,” Alex grunts and turns his attention to the road. After a weighted pause, he says, “I have to make a quick stop before we go to the Marina.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  Alex doesn’t elaborate, but I wonder where he’s taking me when he does an arc around a semi-circular street and turns east toward the bay, passing a guardhouse. He waves at the uniformed guard, who waves back and then he drives past palatial homes with manicured lawns, tropical foliage and uniformed nannies walking pedigreed dogs. We’re so close to the ocean, I can smell it.

  “Where are we?” I ask, distracted by the opulent display of wealth around me.

  “This is Cocoplum. I have to drop off some medicines for my mother.”

  “Oh. Is she sick?”

  He grimaces. “She threw out her back this afternoon.”

  “Ouch. That must be so painful,” I say, furtively touching the small of my back. How does a person throw out her back?

  “Unfortunately, it is.”

  Alex pulls up to a wrought iron gate and slides a white plastic card against a security sensor. The door opens and he drives up a long driveway lined on both sides by two rows of massive royal palms. A shower of white bougainvillea in full bloom partially obstructs the front entrance of the Mediterranean, salmon-colored mansion with pale verdigris shutters. There are blooming flowers everywhere. I feel as if I’ve arrived at Giverny.

  “What a beautiful house,” I say, awestruck by its old-world, European grandness.

  “Thanks, I bought it for my mom and my sisters a few years ago.”

  “Do you live with them?” I ask, hoping he’ll say no.

  He laughs. “God, no. I have a high-rise in South Beach, near Joe’s Stone Crab.”

  Alex owns this Venetian palazzo and a waterfront high rise? Surely he meant to say high-rise condo. Just how much does a cardiologist make anyway?

  “Wait here. I’ll only be a few minutes,” Alex says after he parks the Lamborghini. He leaves it running and sprints up the front stairs, unlocks one of the massive mahogany double doors and lets himself in.

  While I wait in the car, I get a text from Antoinette asking if Alex is on board to host the Bowled Over event.

  “With him now. Will confirm later,” I text back.

  “Do it tonight,” she texts back.

  “K, ttyl,” I write back. Suddenly the phone vibrates in my hand. Weird, it’s showing Alex on caller ID.

  “Hello?” I say with a question mark in my voice.

  “Francesca, please shut off the car and come inside. The front door is unlocked,” Alex says in a brisk tone. “There’s been a change in plans.”

  “Oh, okay.” Change of plans? I’m not sure I like the sound of that. “I’ll be right there.”

  I enter the house and pause in the circular foyer to peek into the adjacent living room. It’s modern and luxurious, from the parchment colored marble floors to the bold paintings on the walls and elegant antiques.

  With a concerned look on his face, Alex meets me in the foyer and ushers me into the living room. In a hushed tone, he says, “We can’t go on the boat tonight, linda. My mother is in bad shape.”

  “Oh…I’m sorry to hear that,” I say with a sympathetic shake of my head.

  “She needs full-time care, but the maid had to leave early today—family emergency. Unfortunately, my twin sisters are away on a buying trip for their boutique. So that leaves me.” He gives me an apologetic smile.

  “I understand. We mustn’t leave her alone. I’m not too hungry, but we can order in or…” I halt when I see the look on his face and realize that he has no intention of keeping me around. It’s not Alex’s fault, but still, I can’t help feeling upset.

  “I hope you understand that it’s not a good time…”

  “Sure, no problem. Maybe you should call me a cab and I’ll head home,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment. He flashes his dazzling smile and I’m momentarily appeased.

  “I already called the cab. Thank you for understanding.”

  Already called the cab? Without even bothering to…

  “Alejandro!” I hear a cranky voice call out.

  “Ya voy, Mamá,” Alex answers in an attentive voice.

  An elegant, perfectly coiffed matron enters the living room dressed in a royal purple silk kimono robe with a dragon motif. She is leaning on an ivory-tipped, black lacquer cane that looks more like a prop than a walking aid.

  “¿Quién es esta?” she inquires with a sniff. Narrowing shrewd black eyes, she sizes me up and down as if I’m the hired help.

  “Mamá, this is Francesca Lake, the TV medical reporter.”

  “Lovely to meet you, Señora Escobar,” I say politely. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling…”

  She ignores me and speaks only to Alex. “I only watch television en español, querido. It is more informative.” She turns to me with suspicion. “You don’t look old enough to be a television reporter.” Her mouth turns downward as she casts a disparaging glance over my skinny jeans and T-shirt. “You are dressed like a teenager.”

  Alex lets out a hearty chuckle. “Mamá, I can assure you Francesca is an adult.” He puts his arm around the crone’s rigid shoulders. “You must lie down. Your back will heal faster with complete rest. Now be a good patient and go back to bed,” he admonishes in a solicitous tone. “I’ll wait here with Francesca until the taxi arrives.”

  “I need help getting back into bed. I will wait here with you.” Señora Escobar straightens her posture and I note she’s taller than me. If this lady has a back problem, she could have fooled me.

  Alex helps his mother toward a cream-colored silk sofa and gestures to the spot beside her. Dragon lady sits ramrod straight as she stares me down, eyes narrowed to slits and flared nostrils.

  “Francesca, please sit down beside her,” he says.

  I approach the sofa with a sense of dread. Thank God, I’m suddenly saved by the doorbell ringing. I’d rather be anywhere but beside Dragon lady. She looks hostile and I’m not feeling friendly either.

  “Looks like my taxi is here.” I shake Alex’s mother’s patrician hand, which goes limp in mine. “I hope you feel better soon, Señora Escobar,” I say through tight lips.

  “Me too,” she says, recoiling from my touch with a look that says “you are not going to get my son!”

  “Stay here while I put Francesca in the taxi,” Alex tells his mother, oblivious of her rudeness.

  “Be quick, Alex. I need to lie down as soon as possible,” is her cranky reply.

  Alex places his hand on the small of my back and ushers me out to the taxi. Before I get inside, he
leans down and takes my face in his hands. He kisses me full on the mouth for a good long minute, his lips glued to mine, his tongue in my mouth. He ends by licking his lips as if he’s putting my taste to his memory. When I pull back dazed, I see his mother standing at the window next to the drawn curtain, glaring at us.

  I get into the cab and Alex hands me two twenties. “No,” I say, refusing them. “I’ll pay for my own fare.” I can’t help that my voice sounds resentful. I’m still smarting from his mother’s fire-breathing rejection of me.

  Alex’s brow furrows as he pockets the money. “I hope you’re not upset about the change of plans. I’ll call you tomorrow morning and we’ll have a real, uninterrupted evening together. I’ll make it up to you, linda.” I wish he wouldn’t call me pretty in Spanish—especially when I’m disappointed in him.

  Touching my fingertips to my mouth, I watch Alex raise his hand to wave at me as the cab drives away. Why did his dreadful mother have to stand there spying on us and ruin the moment? Her presence sure dampened my reaction to his kiss. I can barely remember what it felt like or if I even enjoyed it. Come to think of it, it was pretty bold of him to plant one on me like that. We haven’t even held hands.

  Harrison is entering the lobby with Scout when the taxi drops me off at my building. He stops in his tracks and watches me get out of the taxi with raised eyebrows. Why does he always have to be around when something embarrassing happens to me?

  “Back so soon?” he asks when I get out of the taxi.

  “Don’t ask,” I mutter, grumpy and put out. Scout nudges my hand for attention, so I oblige him by scratching behind his fluffy ears.

  Harrison pats my slumped shoulders with his big hand. “That bad?”

  “Yes, but I’d rather not talk about it,” I say, wincing inwardly. I wish I could tell Harrison everything that happened and get his male perspective, but I don’t. We bonded yesterday when I learned a lot about his childhood after our jog. But I don’t feel comfortable discussing my love life with him. It’s too weird.

  “Have you eaten yet?” he asks, interrupting my musings.

  “No, we were going to have a picnic on the boat, but something came up.” I make a face. “Anyway, I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “Come to my place. We’ll open a bottle of wine and have our own picnic,” he says, green eyes crinkling at the corners.

  “How can I resist such a nice invitation?” I smile at him and my mood lightens.

  As we ride up the elevator side by side, I’m thinking I’m glad I ran into Harrison.

  Harrison’s apartment is a lot more spacious than mine. The wide, unobstructed view of the bay is the first thing that catches my eye as I enter. The décor is typical single male style: wide screen panel TV, big circular tan leather couch and sports memorabilia.

  “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get us some snacks.” Harrison heads to the kitchen with Scout at his heels.

  I notice the collection of framed photographs of his travels on the wall, particularly of China. Yesterday in the park, he told me he had trekked across the Great Wall of China. I turn away when I see a picture of him grinning as he parasails, his athletic body dangling in mid-air.

  There are many things I like about Harrison, stuff he told me about himself that made me realize he’s someone I want to build a friendship with. He loves thick steaks medium rare with a good Pinot Noir…his favorite color is green…he loves children and animals and he abhors cruelty…he’s a Taurus…and he doesn’t have patience for people who “bullshit” and waste time being negative. Cool stuff like that, but I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s a daredevil who loves extreme sports.

  I perch on the edge of the leather couch and listen to him talking to Scout as he fills his bowl with dog food. I hear water run while he washes his hands. Sinking back against the plush leather, I close my eyes and try to erase tonight’s debacle as I listen to him putter around his kitchen.

  When Harrison enters the room, his brawny arms are balancing a thick wedge of cheddar cheese and a hunk of hard salami, a box of Triscuits, paper napkins and a bottle of Pinot Noir with two wine glasses.

  “Mmm, looks good,” I say. “I just got my appetite back.” And not only for food…Harrison looks delicious.

  He smiles. “Good.”

  I help him unload the stuff on his coffee table and wait while he sits beside me and opens the wine bottle.

  “I’m impressed that Scout hasn’t come up begging for treats. I should bring Romeo over to learn some manners.”

  “Anytime you like.” Harrison hands me a glass of wine.

  I take a sip and close my eyes, allowing the wine to swirl around my tongue and roll down my throat. “Ahhh, so good.” When I open my eyes, Harrison is watching me with an amused lift of his brows.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe later.” I look away and take a long sip of wine.

  Harrison puts a slice of cheddar on top of a Triscuit and hands it to me. I watch him devour a cracker with one bite of his strong teeth.

  “I like your place. It’s inviting.” I’m feeling more relaxed than I have all evening.

  He refills my glass. “Put your feet up and get comfy.”

  “Better not give me much more. I’m a lightweight.” Slipping off my sandals, I curl my feet underneath me and take another sip of wine.

  Harrison hands me another cracker.

  “You don’t have to feed me,” I protest, giggling. I glance at my near-empty second glass of wine. Slow down…it’s wine, not water. No wonder I’m giggling for no reason. I pop the Triscuit in my mouth. By now my senses are so heightened that I relish every crunchy, salty bite. I take another sip of wine and incline my head. When I peer up, my gaze locks with Harrison’s dark green eyes and the air sizzles between us.

  “Feeling better?” He takes the wine glass from my hand and places it on the table. Reaching over, his thumb whisks a crumb off the side of my mouth.

  “Yes.” My voice comes out breathless as he holds my gaze.

  “Good.” He smoothes my hair away from my face. Mesmerized, I watch the play of muscles underneath his tanned forearm. He keeps his touch light against my jaw, stroking it with the rough pad of his thumb and it’s all I can do not to purr like a kitten.

  A soft moan escapes my lips. Harrison’s touch is just what the doctor ordered, especially after Alex’s rejection.

  A rousing coil of desire unleashes in my lower belly as Harrison’s big hand glides along my neck leaving goose bumps in its trail, while his free arm draws me toward him. I nestle against his hard chest and inhale deeply, savoring his clean, male scent as I tilt my face up. Harrison’s mouth trails across my brow and my cheek, kissing my sensitized skin softly. His velvety lips close over my earlobe and I shiver as more goose bumps prickle my skin. I open my mouth and welcome the sweet plunder of his tongue and moan against the deliberate invasion as he tastes me.

  “You taste delicious,” he murmurs. His broad hand cradles the back of my head, anchoring me to him for slow, deep kisses that make me mindless with wanting him. I am so hot for him, I squirm and try to get as close as I can. I hold his face and pull away long enough to kiss the rasp on his strong jaw. He resumes kissing me, exploring, tasting—deliciously probing until I can barely sit still. My heart careens against my chest and I moan out loud, loving the way Harrison’s firm hand strokes my spine from my neck to my bottom, squeezing my curves while he makes love to my mouth.

  “That feels so good,” I croon into his mouth. A sweet, sharp ache of arousal builds inside me and my pulse goes wild. My skin is flushed as my whole body pulsates with desire. My mouth blossoms beneath his demanding one as he continues to kiss me with breathtaking thoroughness. His lips lower to the hollow in my throat where he gives me a soft lick and I feel a jolt straight to my feminine core. The satiny scrape of his tongue against my bare skin makes my sweet spot clench and
pulse as waves of pleasure inundate me. Harrison nuzzles my neck and whispers husky endearments that make me dizzy and weak with longing. My nails dig into his hard shoulders and…

  Suddenly, I feel a sharp nudge against the back of my thigh. I turn to find Scout trying to crash our party. Panting, he pushes against the couch and plants his face on my lap, drooling up at us.

  “Down boy,” Harrison commands in a low voice, his face dark and fierce with desire.

  But it’s too late, the mood is broken and sanity returns as a sharp slap to my face. What am I doing here, encouraging Harrison, allowing his kisses to melt me into a helpless puddle of longing?

  With shaky hands, I smooth my hair and adjust my T-shirt. My lips are swollen and I am ravenous for more of Harrison’s sexy kisses, but I have to get out of here before I regret it.

  Harrison drags a hand through his hair, his body rigid and his jaw tight.

  I get up from the couch and grab my purse. “I’m sorry. I have to leave.” Scout starts barking as I run to the door and open it.

  Harrison follows me to the door. “Don’t go. Stay,” he coaxes in a gruff voice that sends prickly tingles coursing through me. My gaze connects with Harrison’s and the searing desire in his eyes nearly knocks me to my knees. But I fear if I stay, I’ll regret it.

  I open the door and bolt out of his apartment before I cave.

  Romeo: Can’t a pup get some sleep around here? First I got squashed and nearly suffocated underneath fashionista Francesca's clothes. Good thing she rescued me, I’m not ready for designer heaven. Then she abandoned me for Dr. Latin Lover.

  This place is the Grand Central Station for men. Dr. Latin Lover is staking a claim on Francesca and she’s falling for his moves. Wake up and smell the café con leche, señorita! He’s is only after one thing…a piece of your colita.

  Chapter Eleven

  I’m holed up in my car with my forehead pressed against my steering wheel and my eyes are shut as I relive Harrison’s delicious kisses. No way am I going to my apartment and risk running into him again. I have been so naïve about him. All this time I’ve been forcing myself to treat Harrison like a friend, and then he totally blows me away with kisses that would wake the dead. I know it’s been a while, but I don’t remember being kissed like that before—ever. How else could I respond? I’m only human.

 

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