The Doctor's Bargain

by Samanthya Wyatt

  “Thank you,” he said, thinking this woman was not out to land a doctor. Maybe her husband kept her satisfied.

  ~ ~ ~

  Sandi woke late the next morning, her thoughts of Doug had kept her awake most of the night.

  I wanted to . . .

  She couldn’t get those words out of her mind. At the time, she’d supposed he had joined them grudgingly, only to celebrate. Why had he said he wanted to? She was seriously losing it if she had the notion that Doug wanted to spend time with her.

  He made her uncomfortable in a way that made her body hot with desire rather than anger. But then he’d killed any such fancies with his next words.

  Don’t get any ideas. I’m not on the market.

  Clearly stating, ‘Here I am, but don’t touch.’

  He had her mind spinning faster than a carousel, but with the same jerking motion of a yo-yo at the handler’s whim. She couldn’t keep up. Why did she want to?

  Last night he’d been kind. Gentlemanly. Seductive, even. The Doug of last evening had been considerate and fun, showing her a glimpse of a man she liked. She’d been cautious at first and prepared for his autocratic manner. As the evening progressed, she melted, the atmosphere quite different from what she’d expected.

  While standing in the little nook, she’d felt his breath on the back of her neck, and tingles raced down her spine. It had taken all her willpower not to lean back into the hard body she’d craved to touch. A lock of blond hair caressing his temple had made her hands itch to smooth it back. His dark blazing eyes had captured her under their enticing spell. Lips that had lured her in, stealing her breath. She’d had the desire to taste them.

  She thought he’d been about to kiss her, and she’d wanted it so bad. Held her breath in anticipation. Inhaled his as he tormented. His sexy voice scraped her nerves, the deep, sexy tone resounding next to her ear, vibrating on her skin. Even now her nipples tightened thinking about the almost-kiss.

  Don’t get any ideas. I’m not on the market. It had taken more energy than she feared she had to duel him in a battle of wits. Whether he knew it or not, each encounter took a chunk out of her resolve.

  Thinking about Doug made her hot. The man was lethal. From now on she’d do her best to avoid him. She’d be damned if she would give him the satisfaction the gleam in his eyes dared her to.

  She threw back the covers and perched on the side of the bed, gathering her hair back from her face. She was annoyed that the last thought she’d had before falling asleep was the same as the first one she had upon waking.

  Doug puzzled her. Did he like her or not? He blew hot and cold, blustering her sanity. Was this a game to him? Perhaps he used his anger as a means to keep his distance. To push her away.

  Why?

  She stretched her arms above her head and padded to the kitchen, popped a pod into the Keurig, and pushed the button. Man, it was nice to have fresh coffee with every cup. She tapped her fingers on the counter, her mind drifting back to Dr. Cool.

  If she could just figure it out.

  The minute Regina introduced him. That’s when his manner changed.

  Sandi rubbed her temples, trying to visualize that moment. He’d flirted with her. Going by his obvious attraction mere seconds before, you’d think he would have been eager for the introduction.

  His sudden cold manner had shocked her. She didn’t know what happened or why the change, but it had been apparent he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

  Dr. Baker? Or Dr. Cool.

  It was just too confusing to contemplate.

  The Keurig hissed at the end of the cycle. She grabbed the two percent milk and added a healthy dose. She craved her coffee and liked milk.

  Speaking of which . . . she pulled a box of Frosted Flakes from the cupboard. Her mouth already watering as she grabbed a bowl and padded to the table. Living alone sucked. She liked her privacy, loved her space, loved having no one to answer to, but she missed her family.

  She ran her hand over the fine wood of the heavy table. Her dad made this table. He had a carpentry shop out in the back of their house. It was merely a hobby, but he spent hours in that shop and every piece of furniture he carved with love. Once in a while he’d take an order, never promising a time when the project would be done. You couldn’t hurry love. Not perfection—love.

  He explained the difference to her once. “People demand perfection,” he’d said. “Nothing is perfect. Free of flaws. No defects. Unblemished. Exquisite. But what they get from me is an object made with love.”

  “Love isn’t perfect, half-pint, but it’s real. Love can bring such joy, you might think something is perfect. People think I’m crazy, but I have a relationship with every piece of wood. I carve with tenderness, affection. I’m devoted in making the best piece I can. I give it love. That’s what makes my items special. Makes them spot-on in my eyes. I enjoy what I do, and the pleasure I receive from crafting is something that can’t be described.”

  She often associated that conversation with others that she’d had with her mom. Love, not perfection. A relationship with a person should feel the same way. She hoped she would find someone, the right someone, who would show her tenderness and affection, build a bond like the one she imagined, the one her dad made her believe in. That wasn’t asking too much. Was it?

  Sure, men today wanted sex on the first date and yada. She’d never find a man like her dad. But, damn it. A girl could dream.

  Doug.

  Why were they at odds anyway?

  ~ ~ ~

  Regina’s cakes were to die for. Since Sandi couldn’t make heads or tails of her thoughts, she rushed to her good friend for comfort. What could be better than comfort food? She propped her elbows on her friend’s kitchen counter and watched Regina decorate a mouthwatering cake. Sandi wanted to stick her finger in the icing. Tempted to do just that, she ran her tongue across her lips.

  “Here,” Regina said, handing her a spoon. “Help yourself.”

  “You’re not finished decorating.”

  “I always make plenty of icing. How do you think I got these hips?” Regina had a few pounds on Sandi, but not many. They both liked to walk for exercise.

  “Go ahead. Tell me what you think.”

  “I don’t need to taste it to know it’s good.” Sandi dipped the clean spoon into the bowl and licked. “Mmmm. Oh my God, this is good. When can we cut it?”

  “It’s not for us.”

  “Who’s it for?”

  “Doug.”

  “Doug? Just give him a slice. He doesn’t need the whole cake.”

  Regina laughed. “He doesn’t have a woman to bake for him. Or cook for him, for that matter.”

  “Don’t go there, Regina.”

  She stood with her hands on her hips, giving Sandi the stink eye. “Come on, Sandi. All I’m saying is give him a chance.”

  “He doesn’t like me.”

  Regina waved the hand with the spatula. “You’re afraid of him.”

  “I’m—what?”

  “A nice hot doctor with a killer body got your motor working, and now you’re running scared.”

  “Regina. You know me better than that. He’s arrogant. Not a nice person at all.”

  There went those hands on her hips again. “But he is too, nice. He an excellent catch. He’s—”

  “Then you marry him.”

  Regina shook her head and went back to work on the cake. “I fix you up with a hot doctor, and you throw him away. I saw your reaction when you met him. He’s the first guy you’ve shown any interest in a long time. He won’t last long. Some woman will scarf him up like that.” Regina went to snap her fingers and found chocolate goo.

  Sandi giggled. “Cute.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Regina dabbed her
finger on the end of Sandi’s nose.

  “Hey. Don’t waste chocolate.” She grabbed a napkin and she and Regina laughed together.

  “I mean it, Sandi. You seemed to get along fine the other night. I know you want me to shut up, but you’d be perfect together.”

  “I’ll admit, Doug is hot.”

  “Really hot.”

  “He’s your friend, so you might be a little biased.”

  “I still say you’re attracted to each other. He’s nice. He’s a lot of fun to be around.”

  “To you, he is. But you’re Sheldon’s sweetheart. You don’t know how he behaves toward other women when you’re not around.” When Regina seemed to think on that, Sandi went on. “You don’t really know what he likes in women. Maybe I’m not his type.”

  “I’ve got eyes. Maybe the sparks you two create are the beginning of something else.”

  Regina was right about one thing. Doug was hot. Normally Sandi wasn’t in the habit of falling into bed with men. But one look at Doug, and she’d wanted to leap, dive, jump without hesitating. But his hot bedroom eyes had turned cold with suspicion.

  Talk about fantasy . . .

  As for her thoughts, they were as jumbled now as before she’d come over. So much for Regina’s help.

  Chapter 8

  The evening shadows disappeared as orange and gold stretched across the horizon, creating a soft glow. The dinner crowd had already hit the popular Italian restaurant. Sandi inhaled the crisp air as she walked along the black-iron railing bordering the outside tables. Delicious aromas swarmed the air, making her mouth water in anticipation. She loved Italian food. If she didn’t work out three times a week, she’d have the hips to prove it.

  When she entered Little Maria’s, Doug already sat in a corner booth. He spotted her and gave a nod in greeting. Her nose pinched as she recalled his urgency on the phone. What in the world could have happened that he needed to see her? He didn’t even like her. Yet a tiny voice in the back of her mind said she might have been wrong.

  She slid into the booth across from him.

  “Thank you for coming.” Going by his body language, he didn’t look glad. His brows creased, his jaw was tight and his expression bordered on brooding.

  “You said it was important.”

  “Yes.” He motioned for the waitress. “Let’s order food, then we’ll talk.”

  “Okay.” Apprehension trickled down her spine.

  The waitress asked for their orders, and he turned his scowl to her.

  “Do you mind if I have a beer?”

  If his actions were anything to go by, she just might need one herself.

  “Please do.”

  “I’ll have a Bud.”

  Sandi looked up to the waitress. “I’ll have a Bud Light.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of Doug’s mouth, making her glad she’d ordered one. But as soon as the girl left, his eyes darted about as if he couldn’t decide where to look. His hands clenched, and he put them in his lap, then on the table. He was, as the expression goes, as fidgety as a cat on a hot tin roof. Mr. Cool looked anything but calm.

  “Did something happen?” she asked, unable to wait another second.

  “You could say that. Actually, I’m trying to prevent it before it does.”

  A thought struck her like a lightning bolt. “Oh God. Sheldon? He’s breaking up with Regina.” She’d be devastated.

  “What?” Confused brown eyes gawked at her in surprise. “No. Why would you think that?”

  “It’s the office. It’s sinking.” Sandi had thought the practice was doing great. Sheldon had been keeping long hours, and that was why he’d added a partner. “Can you save it?”

  “The practice is running fine,” Doug said in a crotchety voice. “Do you always jump to conclusions?”

  “What am I supposed to do?” she hissed. “You asked me—me—someone you barely know and have made very plain you want nothing to do with, to meet you here. You’re jumpy. It’s obvious you have bad news.”

  “Miss Jones. If you close your mouth for just a few seconds, I will tell you.”

  She closed her mouth with a snap.

  The waitress returned with their beers, and Sandi seethed while Doug ordered dinner. She took a gulp of beer, ordered fettuccini, and didn’t care if she ate or not. The cold beer tasted perfect.

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  Sandi’s thoughts slammed to a halt. The glass of beer frozen only inches from her lips. She stared. Then swallowed. She blinked. And carefully returned the glass to the table.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Just hear me out.” He jerked at the tie around his neck as if it choked him and flicked open the top button of his shirt, loosening the confining collar. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”

  Did he just suggest what she thought? Her understanding of the word proposition correlated right up there with the word sex. Surely, he did not . . . would not . . . what did she know about this guy anyway?

  “What sort of thing?” She spread her palms on the table top, needing the feel of something solid beneath her fingers.

  “By the thunder on your face, not what you’re thinking.”

  This time when he tugged on his tie, it came off. He rolled the thing up and stuffed it in his jacket pocket.

  “I have a situation. I need to get a handle on this before it gets out of control.”

  “What kind of situation?”

  “Well, I need a safeguard, so to speak.”

  “Will you just spit it out?” She hated beating around the bush. If he didn’t tell her what he had on his mind, she’d burst with anxiety.

  “I don’t like gossip. I don’t know of any other way to handle this. Essentially, I got the idea from Sheldon.”

  “This involves Sheldon?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you deliberately being evasive?”

  “I need your word, this will go no further.”

  “Good Lord, what have I gotten myself into,” she mumbled. “I’ve never been one to skirt around the issue, and I don’t care for people who do. Take the bull by the horns and—”

  “Your word, Miss Jones,” Doug said with a penetrating stare.

  “I don’t even know what I’d be—”

  “Miss Jones,” he growled.

  Whatever it was, she didn’t have to agree to it. But she would never break a confidence.

  “Oh, all right. You have my word that I will not tell anyone about our discussion.”

  “Very well.” His body relaxed, his relief quite obvious. “I have to give you a woman’s name. I’m not one to tattle, but I have no choice if you’re going to help me.”

  “I haven’t said I will help you.” His worried gaze shot to hers. “I will, however, listen.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Their food arrived, the delicious aroma causing her stomach to growl.

  “Whatever your decision, at least you’ll be fed. I’m starving, too.”

  He dug in with gusto, more relaxed since she’d agreed to listen. She took a bite of her food and moaned in appreciation for the Alfredo sauce, which of course was divine. She licked her lips and glanced at her dinner partner, finding his eyes fastened on her lips.

  A warm buzz fluttered in her stomach. For a split second she almost wished his proposition was of the sensual kind. The man was too damn handsome for his own good. Dark eyes held an intensity that gutted her breath. Lashes so long, she imagined them sweeping her cheek as he grazed his face over hers. And those sensual, full lips. She wanted to sigh with wonder. How would they feel kissing every inch of her body—”

  “From the sound you made earlier, I thought yo
u were enjoying your food. From the look on your face, I’m thinking you’re hungry for something else.”

  Her face flamed. Good Lord, what kind of sound had she made? She could only imagine the look on her face. She stabbed at her food. How horrible to be caught ogling a man who cared little for her and made no bones about showing it!

  “I assure you what I’m eating is fine. My thoughts wandered elsewhere for a moment.” He made no comment, but his smirk told her exactly what he was thinking.

  “Do you know a Mrs. Talbert?”

  “The widow? Everyone knows Mrs. Talbert.”

  He placed his fork on the table, then rested his forearms on the edge. “Are you friends with her?”

  Sandi laughed. “She doesn’t have any friends. Most of the women in this town have been plagued by her in one way or another. And nearly every man has been a target.” Her eyes flew open in astonishment. “Is that what’s going on?” A flush spread from his neck to his ears. She laughed outright.

  “Someone could have warned me.”

  “This is a hoot.” She covered her mouth with her napkin, trying to smother her laughter.

  “It isn’t funny.”

  “I think it is. The woman goes after anything wearing pants. You’re the new toy in town.”

  “I feel more like a piece of meat.”

  “This dinner is turning out to be a lot better than I anticipated. Please continue.” She forked another bite of fettuccini.

  “You see my problem. So, will you help me?”

  She wrinkled her forehead, wondering what he had in mind. “How? You want me to beat her up on the playground?” she snickered.

  “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

  “An attractive woman chasing a man? A nasty, foul tempered man. Watching this man squirm? What’s not to love?”

  “I am not foul tempered,” he denied with some heat.

  She shrugged. “Coulda fooled me.” Gosh, it felt good to see his torment. What she didn’t understand was, why would a hot guy not want to play with the widow? She was young and attractive. Doug gave Sandi the impression he was a roll-in-the-hay good-time guy.