Open Heart (Dr. Love): A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance
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CONTENTS
Open Heart (Dr. Love)
NEWSLETTER
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
NEWSLETTER
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS
BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS
LAIRDS & LADIES
RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD
IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS
Collaborations
About the Author
OPEN HEART (DR. LOVE)
AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE
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A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 236
FLORA FERRARI
Copyright © 2021 by Flora Ferrari
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.
OPEN HEART (DR. LOVE)
Evelyn
They say doctors always make the worst patients, and my dad is no exception.
When he ignores his symptoms long enough we both end up in the ER.
It’s bad.
Worse than either of us could have imagined.
One chance though, emergency surgery.
And there’s only one man who’s available to do it.
Dad’s nemesis and also my secret fantasy, Dr. Mark Love.
It’s been years since either of them have spoken, but only minutes since I’ve thought about him again since hearing his name.
He can operate to save my dad’s life, to heal his heart. But once dad wakes up, whose heart will be healed and whose will be broken?
You see, there’s something I need to get off my own chest to the good doctor.
I just hope we can both handle the consequences if my fantasy comes true.
If Dr. Love says yes.
If he’ll claim me as his own.
Mark (Dr. Love)
If there’s such a thing as being in the top 1% of the 1%, I’m probably it.
Could have retired years ago, been told I should almost every day.
God knows I’m worth enough, never have to work another day if I don’t want to.
But it’s not money driving me. Not even saving lives every day.
I’m looking. Searching.
The only thing missing in my so-called perfect life is her finger with my ring on it.
Whoever she is.
I can feel her in my dreams most nights, reaching out for her and waking up with nothing but her memory.
My queen.
The one I’ve never even met but know is out there, waiting just like I have.
It’s a problem that’s almost affecting my work, so I decide to take a vacation until a last minute emergency surgery delays me.
Normally I’d pass it on to someone else, but the surname catches my eye.
A ghost of Christmas past.
My past.
Once I meet the family I never knew he even had, an only daughter, it all makes sense.
In one small movement of her hand, one look from her clear blue eyes I know I’ve found her.
One look at her and I know I have to have her, no matter the consequences.
*Open Heart (Dr. Love) is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
NEWSLETTER
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CHAPTER ONE
Evelyn
I hate it when he’s this stubborn. Reminds me of myself.
“I am a doctor, honey. And I’m telling you, it’s just a touch of indigestion, I’ll be fine,” he adds, gently hammering his chest with a fist for effect.
It’s the second appointment I’ve made for my dad to see a doctor this week.
The second time I know he won’t go either.
He used to get regular check-ups from fellow doctors at the clinic he was a partner in.
Until he sold his share in the business, dad was a successful family physician. Some bad investments and a lawsuit with his health insurer saw the end of his early retirement real quick.
He’s still a doctor but only works a few days a week at his old clinic. It’s enough for him to keep us both and the house, but not a lot left over.
And after that whole business with the insurance company, he wouldn’t even insure his car if it wasn’t the law.
But I’m not gonna start him off on that, not this morning.
I’m running late anyway but I’m also worried more than ever for him. He’s been looking worn out lately but since losing so much of his retirement fund he’s become a broken man.
Bitter almost.
He looks terrible too. I’m not a doctor, not yet anyway. But I do know when someone ought to go see one and dad’s pallor is enough to scare me enough to plead with him one last time.
Dad’s always been a regular-sized guy, eating right and all that. But health isn’t always what’s on show on the outside.
“After my interview today, we’re going to a doctor, okay,” I tell him, trying to take charge if he won’t. He draws breath to argue his point, but winces in pain again, getting paler.
After I ask him if he’s okay for the millionth time in two days he stabs a nod.
“Alright, sweetie. Maybe just a check-up. I’ll go do it to prove there’s nothing wrong,” he says, forcing a smile but I can see some concern in his eyes finally.
There’s one doctor I wished we could both see right now, but I know that’s not gonna happen.
Dr. Mark Love.
While dad still kept his subscriptions to various medical journals, I would sneak away every copy with Dr. Love in it before he could see it.
I don’t know why, but whenever my dad sees Mark Love he loses his cool in a way that’s scary.
He hates the man with a passion for some reason.
Me? I don’t exactly feel that way at all. Quite the opposite.
The man’s a living god and I would gladly die in front of him so he could bring me back to life.
Okay, maybe not that extreme, but I’d do an awful lot to see him out of his scrubs.
Pity medical journals are mostly just static headshots of doctors in white coats.
But my, he does fill out a white coat and then some.
Knowing how much it upsets my dad, I’ve kept every issue back that had Dr. Love in it or on the cover. He’s very photogenic.
Dark hair and even darker eyes, bright with intelligence though.
Never brooding. Not for the camera anyway.
His look is like a question. An invitation. Or maybe that’s just what I see when I look at him.
I saw an interview with him on the news once too. Same look, same perfect hair, and teeth, but for once I got to see more than just his headshot in a white coat.
If I didn’t recognize him before my dad screamed at the TV to shut it off I might have thought they were interviewing a linebacker.
The man’s huge as well as handsome.
Did I mention he’s intelligent too? And very photogenic.
Aside from being the inspiration for me to want to study medicine myself someday (dad’s dead against that), Mark Love has been the subject of more than one steamy dream too.
I’m sure he’s better in real life, but my god those dreams…
It’s so hard to focus after having one and there’s always such a sense of loss when I wake up.
I dunno, it sounds stupid but in my dreams, it feels like we’re meant to be together. Like we already exist as husband and wife in some alternate universe.
Not that I’d dare breathe a word of that to my dad. I blame his missing issues on the mailman, secretly treasuring them and tracing my fingers over Dr. Love’s lips as I try to keep them from between my legs.
Anyway. Today’s not about Dr. Mark Love and my bizarre fantasies involving him. I’ve got a job interview then a Q and A session with a college panel, convincing them I’ve got what it takes to study medicine after dropping out of college the first time around.
I’ve finished the bridging courses, passed with flying colors. It’s more a matter of formality.
I think.
I hope.
And tuition. Hence the job interview today as well. Probably a pipe dream, but I need something to hang on to.
More importantly, after all that, I’ve gotta make sure I get my dad to see a doctor. He’s the only family I have, we’re all each other’s got.
If anything ever happened to him…
The thought makes me shiver.
“I gotta run, dad. I’ll be back after lunch and then I’ll drive you to the doctor myself. Okay?” I ask, relieved to see him agreeing for a change.
“Another job interview?” he asks, that crushed look playing across his face again.
A few years back, he wouldn’t have even allowed it. His baby girl looking for work. Now we both know how much we need the extra money.
I feel rotten about not mentioning the whole college thing, but it would only upset him.
“Keys?” he asks offering his car as I scoop up my backpack.
“Bus is quicker downtown, dad. Last time I missed out while looking for parking,” I remind us both as he nods quietly.
“Be back soon. Love ya,” I tell him, feeling a tightness in my own chest as I close the door.
Almost like I’m leaving for good or something terrible’s about to happen.
I tell myself that’s silly. Just nerves and in no time focus on my stitch instead as I run for the bus, ignoring the kids from the street as they tease me.
Nothing new there. I’ve heard it all before. Far from athletic, and not inheriting my dad’s genes for a slim figure I’m used to the snide comments. The looks and the downright horrible things people say to heavier girls.
My interview at the coffee house doesn’t go so well either, with a quick glance up and down even though we’re seated, it’s the first question.
“You okay to be on your feet for long periods?”
Straight out of the box, it’s more important than any experience I have which includes being a kick-ass barista.
“I’m good on my feet,” I hear myself reply. Trying not to sound offended.
My interviewer is the manager.
She sounded nice enough over the phone, but up close and personal I can’t help but stereotype after being given the same treatment.
She’s all boobs and hair. Not much else going on below and certainly not a lot floating between her bleached bangs either.
Kind of Malibu Barbie meets frappe latte with a double hit of pumpkin spice out of season, drizzled with caramel syrup.
Just. Ew.
The one thing we have in common is the look of disdain for each other instantly and I just know this interview is a waste of time.
Being a franchise, they have to follow through to keep it equal for all applicants, but once I leave with a grimacing smile and catch her rolling her eyes I know it’s a wasted morning.
The college interview panel is much more forgiving, nodding a lot, and seemingly impressed with my GPA despite not having finished my original courses.
“We understand the dynamics of subject choice, Ms. Partridge. And your application is looking like it’s floating to the top of our pile. Even qualifying for a scholarship, which we encourage you to apply for…”
Its music to my ears, making me feel like I need never pour a single latte for Barista Barbie witch boss ever.
“We’ll need to confer… but if you’re free after lunch? We’d love to have you back to go over some options.”
The panel nods in agreement and I’m walking on a cloud once I leave, floating to the nearest deli for a sandwich and something calming, like an herb tea.
It feels like only moments after I finish a grilled cheese sandwich and am sipping my chamomile tea when I get a call.
I assume it’s one of the doctors from the panel interview I was just at.
“Ms. Partridge? Doctor Javier-”
But I’m so excited, I butt in. “I’ll be back as soon as you need me, I’m only around the corner,” I tell him.
“Uh… Ms. Partridge? Dr. Javier from Mercy State hospital. I’m sorry to have to tell you… It’s your father, he’s been admitted to our ER department. We need you to come down as soon as you can.”
I almost drop the phone, and in a second I realize everything I felt earlier was right.
I should never have left him. I should never have gone to that stupid interview or the college panel. I should have taken the car at least.
Now I have to make my way across town, missing everything else. My chance at a scholarship.
But I can only think of my dad.
Why, oh why did I leave him this morning? I should have driven him to the ER myself.
You saw how he looked.
Idiot!
CHAPTER TWO
Mark
The director of the largest hospital in the state, the board of cardiology, and even my own accountant are adamant.
“You need a vacation, Mark. A long one. Twenty years of service is admirable but you need a holiday. That’s an order!”
I could have retired ten years ago, god knows I’ve got enough money.
It’s keeping busy that stops me from remembering how much I don’t have, even though I have so much.
Thing is, it’s just me.
The most skilled, respected surgeon in my field. Money to burn and nothing but the best of everything.
And no one to share it with.
Doctor Mark Love, king of the newest triple bypass technique, alone in this life without his queen.
A huge house that’s all the bigger for being so empty.
Most guys my age have divorced at least twice and have child support as their reason to get up in the morning.
If I had her, my queen. It would be for keeps, and there’d be no doubt about how serious I’d take those vows.
For me, family would mean everything.
If only I had one.
Waiting for the courtesy car from the airline to pick me up, I can hear the echo of my designer leather loafers on the imported marble floors as I pace.
The place feels emptier than usual, even though I haven’t even left yet. I feel like a ghost in my own home unless I have a crammed schedule to focus on.
Bermuda awaits, two weeks of sitting on a beach, and then what? Three more months of nothing to do.
I don’t like it. Not one bit, but it was take a
break or be forced into retirement.
I could do some consulting on the side, maybe overseas or interstate stuff. But my name’s so well known it would get back to the powers that be.
Nope. A break’s a break and for the first time, I can remember I guess I’ll have to learn how to do nothing for a while.
John Carmichael is the state hospital director, and the last face I expect to see as he cranes his neck around my open front door.
“John?” I ask, genuinely surprised.
“I thought you were my ride to the airport,” I confess, knowing he’s only come by to make sure I’m actually going on vacation.
“Just seeing you off, Mark. Aaand to apologize for seeming so brash about everything, it’s just…” he starts to say but we’re interrupted.
His cell chimes and his eyes narrow. A call he has to take.
I miss those calls already.
Life or death calls, even when they get me out of bed at three a.m.
“…Well we’ll have to airlift him to… Oh? No insurance, huh. What kind of doctor doesn’t have...” His head shakes with annoyance.
“I see,” he murmurs, shooting me a forced smile, but I know that look. This call’s from the hospital and has life or death written all over it.
Carmichael hums and finally grunts, saying he’ll be right over before hanging up.
“Sorry, Mark. Duty calls,” he murmurs, but I won’t let him get away that easily.
“What is it?” I ask, my curiosity more than piqued.
Pausing at the door he sighs bitterly, almost drowning out the sound of my ride pulling up and politely honking.
“Nothing you need to worry about, Mark. It’s a cardiac case, tricky and time-sensitive. But not your patient and not your problem!” he says loudly, almost shouting but trying to stay upbeat.
“And you don’t have a surgical consultant on hand. I’m guessing?” I ask, almost relieved when his shoulders sag and a low groan escapes him.
“We’re under the pump down there, Mark. But I couldn’t ask you to… Not after ordering you to take a vacation like this,” he says firmly. Stubbornly.
I glance at my Rolex, if the clock’s ticking for someone we need to move.
“I can delay the flight, John. Just for one day?” I ask, feeling my own heart starting to quicken at the thought of just one more patient. One more surgery before I take a break.