Dating Dr Notorious

by Donna McDonald

  “No. Everyone knows Ben has a thing for you,” Stacey said, delighted by the embarrassed blush coloring the older woman’s face. “And Daniel has shared some of the headaches that have come from it.”

  “We don’t want to hurt anyone,” Regina said to Stacey, and then looked at Daniel. Daniel just smiled in reply.

  “I have bad timing,” Regina said, standing as she felt her composure returning. She walked toward the door, pinning her hair up again as she went. “Ben, I’ll call you tomorrow. Enjoy your evening, okay?”

  Ben walked over to Regina and stopped her from putting the cap on. He pulled her into his arms. His shirt was still unbuttoned and Regina closed her eyes in pleasure at feeling his naked chest.

  Ben felt Regina’s tension as he pulled her closer, at last understanding how traumatized she had been by Stacey answering the door. How could Regina seriously think he’d be interested in someone else?

  “The boots are very sexy and make you as tall as me,” Ben teased, successfully making her laugh. “I think you should let me pick out all your clothes from now on. After that awful pink suit, I don’t trust your fashion sense any more.”

  Regina snorted against him and smacked his arm. “That’s a perfectly good suit.”

  “Can I call you when I get back tonight?” Ben asked.

  Regina nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak. She feared if she starting talking, everything she felt and feared would come rushing come out.

  “Daniel? Stacey? Turn your heads please,” Ben said, smiling when they did as he asked.

  “Ben, don’t embarrass your guests,” Regina scolded.

  “Shut up and kiss me,” Ben ordered, his mouth swooping down on hers, staking his ownership and hoping it reassured her.

  When he let her go, Ben gripped her chin hard. “If you ever show up here again and a woman answers, kick the door in and rescue me. There’s no one else, Regina.”

  “Damn it, Ben. I know now I was an idiot. Don’t make me cry as well,” Regina sniffed, and kissed him back hard.

  Then she stuffed her hair back under the rest of the disguise. “Daniel, Stacey, it was good to see you both again. I wish the circumstances had been better. Have a good evening.”

  Ben opened the door and waited to close it until Regina had gone into the elevator.

  When he turned around, Daniel and Stacey were both smiling.

  “How long have you felt that way about Dr. Logan, Ben?” Daniel asked, his eyes kind and serious.

  “Practically since the first time I saw her,” Ben said, walking back to the bedroom.

  Daniel’s and Stacey’s gazes followed his back as Ben strode down the hall. It had been obvious to both of them this was not a relationship born of a single date.

  “They’re not just dating, Daniel. They’re in love,” Stacey whispered softly, leaning against her husband’s arm. “And I mean, big time. It doesn’t seem fair they have to sneak around to see each other.”

  “Yeah. It’s complicated.” Daniel said, hugging his wife. Looking into Stacey’s incredible face, he could fully understand why Dr. Logan would have suspected Ben of cheating. His wife was gorgeous. He didn’t blame Dr. Logan for overreacting. One of Ben’s more bizarre personality traits was he was the only person who didn’t know how truly good-looking he was. Another was his absolute fidelity to those he cared about, which still included the entirety of his dead wife’s family. It was probably hard as hell to start your love life over when you walked among reminders of the past every day.

  Daniel sighed and wished he had a way to help, while Stacey grunted in disgust.

  “Well, what they have doesn’t look very complicated to me. It looks pretty straight forward,” she said. “I say screw the press. Everyone will get over it eventually.”

  “Probably true, but it’s the time factor causing the problem, babe. In the time it takes for people to get over things, lots of damage to a business can happen. In this poor economy, customers can be lost for a lot less than bad publicity,” Daniel said, loving that his wife was as good inside as she looked outside.

  He lowered his voice to sexy whisper. “Stacey—did you just say screw? You know I love it when you talk dirty. Say something else.”

  Stacey smacked his chest, and then threw herself into his arms for a scorching kiss that promised him everything in the world he wanted. He owed Dr. Logan for the heat of her kiss, Daniel thought, his mind dizzy with gratitude for his wife’s desire.

  Ben walked out of the bedroom knowing he looked like the epitome of the well dressed, successful, mature male. Image was one thing in this case, he thought, the reality was definitely another. He wasn’t going to feel successful until Regina was able to be at his side.

  He looked at Daniel and Stacey plastered on each other and sighed with envy, even as he smiled at the loving picture they made after fourteen years together. Regina really did do good work, Ben thought.

  “Well, at least somebody will be getting lucky tonight,” Ben said to them, resigned to his lonely fate for the evening and wishing he’d sent Daniel and Stacey away instead of Regina.

  Chapter 12

  The taxi from the airport dropped Regina as near as possible to her final destination, but she still had to walk the remaining distance. Regina pulled her rolling overnight case across the Princeton campus at a brisk pace as she headed to Robertson Hall where she was due to give a lecture in two hours.

  With a nip in the September air, and some distance yet to cover, Regina was glad she had elected to wear the flat boots and the new green wool dress, which she bought mostly because it reminded her of the color of Ben’s eyes.

  Regina sighed at her thoughts, acknowledging her longing for Ben was growing. Only a week had gone by since she’d last seen him, but she missed him terribly. Two days apart now seemed like a lot of time to her.

  Ben’s company had another break-in, and he had been occupied with resolving it all week. Then she’d had to leave town for the lecture at Princeton.

  As her professional growth turned into speaking engagements, Regina had travelled extensively on her own, took care of her own plans, and basically dealt with all the details of her life without even once wishing for someone to go with her—until today. Today she wished with all her heart Ben could be with her. Her depth of longing for his company was surprising, and it was humbling to discover she wasn’t as independent as she thought.

  Dr. Anthony Searle, a notable psychology professor, was in the lecture hall’s office waiting to greet her. She and Dr. Searle were long time acquaintances, since she visited Princeton at least twice a year. Stowing her luggage and coat in the office, she took only her portfolio bag containing her notes to the auditorium. They walked down the hall together and were soon joined by a very attractive man Regina discovered was to introduce her.

  Dr. Vincent Emery, a visiting resident in the field of psycho-sexual treatments, shook her hand and then held it so long Regina had to pull it away. Dr Emery was almost a foot taller than she with long dark hair that touched his collar and eyes the color of cocoa. Regina judged him to be about thirty-five or so, definitely an attractive man, but too full of himself and his interests for her tastes.

  Or maybe she was put off by the fact he was trying too hard to impress her. He talked non-stop about his work on the walk to the auditorium. When they got to the lecture hall, Regina found herself anxious to escape him.

  She and Dr. Searle checked the microphones and the height for her at the podium. She would give the bulk of her talk at the podium, but she usually walked and paced as she took questions from the audience.

  At a quarter till the hour, the auditorium was more than half full. By the time Dr. Emery stepped up to introduce her, there were few seats left. This was not unexpected for her lectures. Princeton had hosted Dr. Raquel Eastman, a pioneer in Regina’s field. It always thrilled her to imagine she was following someone so brave and honest about sexual matters.

  After the welcoming applause, Regina
began:

  “Thank you, Princeton. It’s a pleasure to be back with you again. Today, I want to talk to you about my recent studies in the connections between fostering a true intimate relationship to the ratio of satisfying sex between committed partners. This is not a new subject, but the problems many couples face are directly related to recent changes in our society.”

  She paused to scan the audience, and to put on her reading glasses.

  “Today I want to focus on heterosexual partnerships and how they are being affected by shifting gender roles. The pleasure of true sexual ravishment among heterosexual partners requires a male who wants to ravish and a female who wants to let him. Though this can certainly work in other ways, this standard system is built into the majority of people biologically. Individuals without a clear sense of themselves as masculine or feminine are often confused in the bedroom as well as the rest of their lives.”

  She tilted her head up and looked over the top of her reading glasses. When she was satisfied with the level of attention she received, she went back to her notes.

  “Males have been told to be sensitive and non-threatening at all times. This is often in direct opposition to their ravishing urges toward their female partners. The resulting guilt of wanting to ravish, and it’s incompatibility with sensitivity, leads to the stifling of all aggressive urges in the males, even the desired ones. It keeps the male expression somewhat repressed, and often keeps the female from feeling sexually desired. The male partner feels he can’t express himself, and the female partner perceives her male partner is holding back his desire from her.”

  She took off her glasses and laid them on top of her notes.

  “I’m suggesting a new level of communication among partners is required to renegotiate sexual expressions. I advise my clients to experiment with comfort levels and work with their partners to find a happy medium where both partners’ ravishment needs are being fully met.”

  Regina continued her lecture, talking for almost the full hour, and then she offered to answer questions. Both Dr. Searle and Dr. Emery walked through the audience handing microphones to people.

  A young female student Regina judged to be about twenty-five asked the first question.

  “Dr. Logan? If I get your message correctly, you’re suggesting I tell my husband he can do whatever he needs to express his desire for me without necessarily restraining his expression?”

  “That’s mostly correct,” Regina said, “but I’m not suggesting you let him become abusive or even too rough with you, nor that he set aside a basic recognition of his strength, body size, and various other factors in relation to you.”

  Regina walked to the edge of the stage, microphone in hand. “Instead—I am suggesting that, as a couple, you define the parameters of your sexual expressions in ways you might be currently avoiding. Let me ask you a question. Do you ever feel your husband is holding something back during intimacy?”

  The woman looked terribly uncomfortable with the question, but with the whole auditorium looking at her, Regina knew she wouldn’t lie.

  “Sometimes,” she admitted finally.

  “Aren’t you curious what it is?” Regina asked. “Ask yourself what it would be worth to you to know this information about your partner. It could be fear of being hurt holding you back. It could his fear of hurting you keeping him from his expression. Talk to him and find out. Like everything else in a relationship, sexual expression is an agreement. Honest communication is the path to change.”

  The woman nodded, thanked her, and sat.

  There were several other pointed questions, and then Regina saw the microphone being passed to a man with a press badge. She swore silently, but kept her Dr. Logan face in place.

  The man stood to ask his question. “Dr. Logan? Is your research based on personal experience or solely that of your clients? My sources say you are not really in a committed relationship yourself.”

  Regina laughed, taking her sweet time in answering his question. “Gee, I can’t tell if that’s an academic question or if you’re trying to ask me for a date.”

  The audience laughed.

  “I’m married,” he replied easily. “It’s an academic question.”

  “Okay. My research comes from many sources,” Regina answered. “Most of them have to remain confidential.”

  “Are you currently practicing your findings within your own committed relationship?” he persisted, not surrendering the microphone.

  “To ask about my findings is an academic question,” Regina told the reporter. “To ask about the partners in my life is a personal question. As I am sure you are aware, my private life tends to become newspaper fodder in both legitimate publications and not so legitimate ones. Since sexual relationships and intimacy both require a certain level of privacy, publicity tends to put a damper on my dating life. Let’s just say I remain hopeful to acquire a partner to practice with at some point. Next question, please.”

  A young good-looking guy from the back stood and snatched the closest microphone. “I don’t care about the press. I’d date you, Dr. Logan. You’re really hot for an older woman.”

  The crowd around him laughed and applauded his nerve. There was always one in the crowd, and Regina always chose to view it as flattering.

  Regina laughed before answering, a husky echo in the auditorium. “Thank you. That’s a lovely offer, but I’m sure dating you is illegal for someone my age, and I’m afraid I prefer older men. Now if your dad’s single, see me afterward with his phone number.”

  The audience roared with laughter, clapping loudly. “I’m just kidding,” she insisted to the amusement of the crowd, laughing at herself.

  The kid yelled thank you and blew Regina a kiss. She laughed again, more nervously this time.

  “Anyone have an academic question?” Regina pleaded. “Please. I’m dying of embarrassment up here.”

  After a couple more questions, the time limit was at last over and Regina was able to step down. As always, there was a rush of people to talk to her personally. Some half hour later, Vincent Emery took her arm and pulled her along with him out of the auditorium.

  Back in the office, Regina was quiet as she gathered her things. Vincent Emery held her coat for her while she put it on, and again Regina was uncomfortable with how long he lingered over helping her.

  It’s funny, she thought, fighting the urge to cringe away from his hands. When the right guy put his hands on you, it was amazing. When the wrong guy did it, the same actions could give you the creeps.

  “Can I interest you in dinner?” he asked her.

  “No thanks,” Regina answered easily. “I can never eat after speaking this late. I just want to head to the hotel and settle in. I’ll be back for Dr. Searle’s class in the morning.”

  “Here, let me help you with your suitcase,” he said, grabbing the handle and deliberately putting his hand over hers.

  Regina sighed hard. “Dr. Emery, I see I’m going to have to say this plainly.” She used her other hand to remove his. “Stop touching me. I don’t like it, and I don’t want it. I don’t play games. Despite what I said to the press reporter, I do actually consider myself in a relationship. You’re a good-looking guy, but I’m just not interested. That’s as nicely as I can say it.”

  While Regina struggled to pull Emery’s hand off hers, the man with the press badge stepped up and snapped a picture. Regina swore succinctly and so colorfully that Dr. Vincent Emery blushed.

  “So who’s the guy in your relationship, Dr. Logan?” the reporter asked. “You look pretty cozy wrestling over your suitcase with Dr. Emery.”

  “Yeah?” Regina said, her temper strained to the breaking point. “Sometimes things aren’t what they look like, unless you really are a horse’s ass.”

  “You know, I heard about your rapier wit,” the press guy said, throwing his business card on a nearby desk. “Give me a call if you want a real story printed on you sometime. If you weren’t always hiding your life in shad
ows, probably no one would care as much.”

  Regina swore again after he left, but she picked up the card. She’d make a call tomorrow, not that it do any good, but she would try.

  “I’m genuinely sorry if I caused a problem for you,” Vincent told her, finally realizing the woman beside him was worldly in ways he couldn’t fathom.

  “Forget it,” Regina told him. “The press loves to harass me. If you stay in this field, you better grow a thick skin and try not to be too famous for anything. If you have a girlfriend, Dr. Emery, I suggest you think of something clever to say before she sees the picture of us.”

  And, Regina thought, she was going to have to warn Ben.

  *** *** ***

  “So now what do you think?” Ben asked Casey, staring at the broken alarm on the warehouse door swinging loosely in the frame.

  Casey looked at the doorway, and then looked back at Ben.

  “I think you need to weigh the amount of loss you suffered against the cost of replacing the equipment. Your loss isn’t high enough to merit the cost of a new system.”

  “Fuck the cost,” Ben said succinctly. “I’m tired of the company getting ripped off every couple of weeks. We’re like practice now for petty criminals to hone their breaking and entering skills. This is a decent part of town and it shouldn’t be so hard to protect a mostly empty warehouse.”

  Casey saw then it wasn’t the money motivating Ben, but rather fixing a long running problem. Ben Kaiser had reached the limit of his patience with the thefts.

  “Okay. What do you want from me?” Casey asked.

  “I want an estimate of costs for replacing the alarms on all doors. Plus I want something for the ceiling windows as well. Then I want to know anything else you think will help. How soon can you get it to me?” Ben demanded, growing more and more sure this was the right call.

  “I don’t have anyone to do the installation. It may take me some time to find help,” Casey told Ben.