Doctor's Delight

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Doctor's Delight Page 9

by Angela Verdenius

“You think?” Susie snorted. “When a man has his sights set on getting back into a woman’s pants, nothing sidetracks him.”

  “Delightful,” Cherry muttered.

  “I’ll answer the phone,” Susie stated. “Give him a piece of my mind, the man-whore.”

  Cherry glared at her.

  “Oh, come on. I meant ‘man-whore’ as in he’s bouncing from you to Annabelle.”

  “I hired a man-whore, remember?”

  “Totally different scenario.”

  “You’re not answering the phone, and you’re not talking to him about this stuff. This is between him and me, and you’re not to tell anyone or say anything.”

  Susie rolled her eyes.

  Cherry gritted her teeth.

  “Susie won’t say anything,” Maxie assured her. “If she does, I’ll kick her arse myself.”

  Susie blew out a breath and stared at the ceiling.

  “What if he comes around?” Maxie queried.

  “He won’t.” Cherry hoped.

  “So, what? You’re not going to answer the door?” Susie crossed her legs and rocked her foot, the gold sandal caught by one strap on her big toe bobbing up and down. “You can’t hide forever, Cherry. You have a job.”

  “He won’t do anything in the hospital, and by then he’ll also know I’m serious about not being interested in him.” Cherry tapped one finger against the tabletop. “I think me catching him with Annabelle showed him I’m no fool.”

  “I still say I could sort him out for you.” Lower lip jutting a little, Susie bobbed her foot faster.

  “I appreciate it, really, but I need to sort this out myself.” The phone rang and she jumped. Fortunately it was only telemarketing, so she ignored it.

  “Oh yeah, you’re really handling it.” Susie took a self-satisfied sip of her coffee.

  “Bitch,” Maxie said mildly.

  Susie flipped her the middle finger.

  Ignoring her, Maxie patted Cherry’s arm. “You’re doing the right thing. Ignore him enough and he’ll lose interest.”

  “He wasn’t really interested to begin with.” Cherry ruthlessly ignored the little pang in her heart.

  “Ignoring him will only make him more determined,” Susie warned darkly. “And he’s going to come around sooner or later.”

  “He’s a doctor, he’s busy. Maxie said he was on-call this afternoon, so no chance of him coming around.”

  “Saved by a sick person. Nice.”

  “You just want a piece of him.”

  “Bastard, playing one of my best friends like that.” Susie abruptly turned to face Cherry. “But I’m not sorry you went ahead and hired a male escort.”

  “Hells bells, you can say that after all this?” Maxie protested.

  “Hey, that was one mistake. It’s no reason to not hire a male escort again.”

  Cherry’s mouth fell open.

  Maxie shook her head.

  “That Damien was a hunk, wasn’t he?”

  “Also an unprofessional loud-mouth,” Cherry snapped.

  “He was speaking to a nurse and a doctor, he knew you were bound by oath not to repeat anything.”

  “Shouldn’t he have a similar oath, the little prick?”

  Susie guffawed.

  Cherry glared at her. “I should have given him his pethidine shot with a blunt needle.”

  “The drawing up needle,” Maxie added.

  “And put the thermometer where the sun doesn’t shine.”

  “Maybe Rick will be a patient one day and you can have the pleasure of giving him that shot with the blunt needle.” Susie got up, filled the kettle and plugged it in again. “I’ll volunteer to insert the thermometer.”

  Maxie rolled her eyes at Cherry.

  “The man might be a bastard, but he has a really nice arse,” Susie pointed out.

  “He does,” Cherry agreed without thinking, only to stop in horror and slap her hand over her mouth.

  “And you’d know.” Susie leered and sat down again. “You didn’t tell us what he’s like in bed.”

  “No, you didn’t.” Arms folded on the table, Maxie gaze was avid. “Spill.”

  “What? No!”

  “Oh, come on. You don’t owe him any loyalty now.”

  No, she might not owe him any loyalty, but neither was she going to discuss every intimate detail. Every intimate detail that just the memory of still made her tingle down in her treacherous nether-regions, damn it.

  “It was nice,” she said.

  “Nice?” Susie raised her eyebrows. “You can do better than that.”

  “Good.” Bloody amazing, in fact. She could still feel the strength in his arms, the shift of muscle beneath his smooth skin.

  “Good?” Maxie repeated. “We want more than that.”

  More? She’d gotten more all right. The heat of his hard body, the strength, the clean, masculine scent as he’d pressed closer, his breath warm on her neck, his lips—

  “The man is a bastard,” she said briskly, folding her arms decisively. “As far as I can tell he was a good lover.” She stumbled a little over the word. “But as for character, he sucks. I don’t want to talk about the jerk anymore.”

  Susie and Maxie exchanged looks.

  “And you can stop that,” Cherry said sharply.

  “You’re not going to tell us anymore?” Susie was disappointed.

  “What about his donger?” Maxie persisted. “Is he well hung? He looks like he’s got a good body under those suits he wears.”

  “Big hands,” Susie added brightly. “Long fingers.”

  “Ooohhh.” Maxie feigned a shudder of delight. “Long fingers! All the better for stroking you, my dear!”

  They had no idea, a little voice wistfully whispered deep inside her. Cherry shook her head in disgust. “Rick Reed is no longer worth my time to discuss.”

  “Ah well.” With a sigh, Susie glanced at her watch. “Time for me to go, anyway. Robbo’s taking me out for tea tonight. I better get home and make myself beautiful for him.”

  Cherry saw her out to her car and waved her off. Susie could be both annoying and funny, and Cherry loved her like a sister.

  Maxie stayed for another coffee and to chat about her wedding plans with Cherry. She pulled out the bridal magazines she’d brought with her and they poured over the bridal gowns before Maxie turned to the pictures of bridesmaid’s dresses.

  Cherry was relieved when Maxie pointed out the bridesmaids dresses she was intending to order for Cherry and Susie to wear. Plain lines, pretty colours, and with only a little flounce. Sure, she’d look like an overblown hourglass beside Susie, but at least she’d be passable.

  The knock on the door caught her by surprise. Glancing up, she saw that it was eight o’clock. She and Maxie looked at each other.

  The knock came again, and Cherry got up and started down the hall, only to halt when a voice called out, “Cherry? It’s me, Rick. I just want to talk.”

  She froze in her tracks.

  Maxie’s head popped around the doorframe. “Holy shit, is that who I think it is?”

  “Cherry?” Rick knocked again. “I know you’re in there.”

  “He’s a freaking stalker!” Maxie reached for the telephone.

  “Who are you calling?” Cherry hissed.

  “The cops.”

  “Are you mad? No!”

  “Cherry, he’s knocking on your door.”

  “Calling three times and knocking on the door once doesn’t make him a stalker.”

  Maxie gave her a funny look. “So answer the door.”

  “No.” Cherry grabbed Maxie and thrust her towards the door. “I’m out of town; you’re minding the cats and the house for me.”

  Maxie’s mouth fell open.

  “Get rid of him,” Cherry hissed, and bolted to her bedroom.

  Closing the door quietly, she leaned back against it and closed her eyes. What the hell was she, a timid teenager? She should have just answered the door and told him to rack off in no
uncertain terms. Instead, she was hiding in here while her friend did the deed for her.

  Cripes, she was pathetic.

  Hands trembling a little, heart pounding a lot, she strained to hear. Faintly came the deep rumble of a male voice, followed by the lighter tones of Maxie’s. The rise of a question, the lowness of an answer. Several more words, a pause, and then the door shut. Seconds later came the thump of a car door.

  Maxie opened the bedroom door and Cherry staggered back out, arms wind-milling to keep her balance. She smacked up against the hall wall.

  “Lover boy is gone,” Maxie announced. “He’ll be back, though.”

  “But not tonight.” Cherry straightened.

  “Not tonight. You can’t hide from him forever, Cherry.”

  “I know. I know. I’ll face him…another day.”

  Maxie sighed. “You have to sort this out.”

  “I will.” Shoving one hand through her hair, Cherry screwed her eyes shut. “Bloody Susie!”

  “Susie may have unwittingly caused some of this, but you’re also to blame.”

  “What? How am I to blame?”

  “You didn’t ask his name when Rick came to the door,” Maxie pointed out. “You could have let in an axe murderer, dummy. You always ask the name of a person before letting him inside.”

  “Who are you, my mother?” Cherry scowled. “Bloody Rick thinks he’s my father, and you act like my mother.”

  “Rick acted like your father?”

  “He said it was dangerous to sleep with men I don’t know.”

  “He’s got that right.”

  “Now you’re on his side?”

  “Hey, don’t start on me, sister.” Maxie held her hands up, palms out. “I’m just saying.”

  Cherry gazed at her for several seconds before she sighed and leaned back against the wall. “You’re right. It is partly my fault. This is my mess and I need to clean it up.”

  Relaxing, Maxie laid her hand on Cherry’s shoulder. “On the plus side, he is kind of cute.”

  “Max!”

  “Just saying.” Smiling, Maxie headed back to the kitchen. “Come on, help me decide on the colours of these bridesmaids dresses.”

  ~*~

  Gazing unseeingly at the far wall, Rick wondered when he was going to catch a break. Cherry was avoiding him, refusing to answer her phone and even leaving town, for God’s sake. Why? Was he such an ogre she couldn’t even bring herself to talk to him?

  It had been a different matter with Annabelle. The Barracuda wanted him, she’d made that perfectly clear. There he’d been, explaining nicely to her that there was going to be no dinner date, that he was seeing someone else, and she’d reached up and stroked his cheek and told him that she was the woman for him.

  He shuddered inwardly. Annabelle was beautiful, no doubt about that, but she was a cold fish. Now Tim would find that comparison funny – The Barracuda being a cold fish – but Rick wasn’t hugely amused. He had a feeling that Annabelle wasn’t finished pursuing him yet. A woman like that never gave up the prize without a fight. He just had to keep that fight from finding its way to Cherry.

  The way things were going, he wasn’t going to find himself with Cherry any time soon, either, but by God, he wanted to be with her.

  Crossing the street to his car, he’d seen Cherry walking down the pathway in the park and he’d followed, his heart lifting at just the sight of her. Too far behind for her to hear him, he’d quickened his pace to catch her up, only to be stopped by an elderly woman who’d told him, in an indignant and wavering voice, that teenagers were cruel at times, and the poor lady ahead had been called some nasty names, and after all, it probably wasn’t her fault she had a weight problem.

  That had been enough information to make him speed up after Cherry, angry at the thoughtless cruelty of some people, and wanting to gather her into his arms and give comfort, but when he’d called out her name once he was finally within hearing, she’d taken one look at him and dived into a taxi.

  She was avoiding him. Why? Sure, he’d come on strong to her, even Tim had been awed by that little tid-bit when he’d told him, but to avoid him like this was ridiculous. He wasn’t that bad. In most circles he was considered a catch. Many women, especially those of The Barracuda’s ilk, would be thrilled to have him chase them.

  Rick was no conceited jerk, just a realist.

  Swivelling the chair back and forth, he glanced at the clock, pleased to see that he had a few more minutes before his first patient was due. His mind went back to the puzzle of Cherry.

  It was pretty basic, to his way of thinking. He wanted her, he was determined to have her, and she didn’t want a bar of him for some reason. The solution was pretty basic, too. He had to change her mind any way he could, and that included underhanded tactics if required. For that, he might have to get Tim onboard, but for now he’d try it his own way. He just wasn’t sure what that way was just yet, but he was confident he’d find it. All was fair in love and war, as the saying went.

  “Dr Reed.” The receptionist’s voice over the intercom interrupted his thoughts.

  “Here.”

  “Mr. Brandon, your first patient, has arrived.”

  “Send him in.” With a sigh, Rick sat up and straightened his tie. The wonderful, intriguing, maddening puzzle of Cherry was going to have to wait awhile.

  Damn it.

  Pasting a smile on his face, he greeted the first patient through his door.

  ~*~

  Closing the door of the hotel room behind him, Rick threw his suit jacket over the back of a chair and pulled out the iced coffee from the ‘fridge. Pouring himself an oversized glassful, he took several deep gulps and then rolled the cold glass across his forehead.

  Thank God a trying day had finally ended. Thank God he wasn’t on-call tonight, and thank God he had the next few days off work.

  Several of his patients were repeat offenders – they didn’t take their medications properly and whined about the expected results, one smoked like a chimney and was in danger of coughing up her lung but still complained that he, the doctor, wasn’t doing enough to control her asthma, and another client kept bringing her son in with health issues that weren’t there, and that could be cause for concern. That particular patient would bear close monitoring. Maybe she was just an overanxious mother, but one never knew and it paid to be careful. Keeping an eye on both of them cost nothing.

  Then came his hospital round. He’d known that the nurse called Susie was a friend of Cherry’s. He’d found out just how much of a friend. She’d given him the cold-eye and been frostily polite as soon as she’d walked into his presence. Any frostier and his balls would have shrivelled. The nurses’ roster had been sitting behind the desk, and he’d thought he’d been rather cunning to sit beside it with the inpatient file so he could cast a discreet glance over the roster to find out when Cherry was next on duty. Obviously he hadn’t been discreet enough, because Susie had dumped a pile of files right on top of it and given him that frosty smile that told him she thought he was a piece of shit.

  He admired her loyalty, but he could really have done to have her on his side. He’d smiled charmingly and her smile had gone from frosty to frozen. His testicles had practically shot up inside him. Whatever Cherry had told her about him, it obviously hadn’t been complimentary.

  Maybe he’d made a huge mistake. Maybe stating his intentions so boldly hadn’t been wise, but he’d always been a straightforward bloke, stating his intentions and then going single-mindedly for it. Once his mind was made up, he was focused.

  His mother said it made him successful, his father said it made him stubborn, and his sister said it made him annoying. Tim said in regards to pursuing Cherry, it made him a possible stalker. Rick preferred his mother’s opinion.

  Yanking his tie loose, he let it hang down the front of his shirt while undoing the top buttons of his shirt. Pulling it open, he took a deep breath.

  Maybe he should start with flowers. In his
experience, women liked flowers. They also liked expensive presents, but he had the feeling that wouldn’t cut it with a girl like Cherry. Not his Cherry.

  His Cherry. That sounded good, and he spoke it allowed, enjoying the sound of it.

  Hmmm…maybe he was turning into a stalker.

  After downing the rest of the iced coffee, he rinsed out the glass in the bathroom and returned it to the little cupboard above the microwave. One bright spot to the day, at least this was his last night in the hotel room. Tomorrow he was shifting into the house he’d signed up to rent. The paperwork had been completed before he’d arrived at the city and now he could finally move in.

  He showered quickly and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Pulling on socks and sneakers, he debated whether to have something to eat before heading over to Cherry’s house in the hope of catching her there, or whether he should go over first and then eat. Maybe he could convince her to have a casual dinner with him somewhere. Yeah, that’d be the go. He frowned. Or should it be somewhere a little more tasteful?

  A knock sounded on the door and he crossed to it. Opening the door, he found himself face-to-face with his sweet mental tormentor standing there in all her voluptuous glory, and with a scowl on her face to rival any constipated, cranky patient.

  God, she looked cute. His spirits rose instantly. Grinning, he leaned against the doorframe. “Hello, love.”

  “Don’t call me love,” she replied tartly.

  “Sweetheart.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Sugar?”

  “Listen, Reed—”

  “Rick.”

  Her eyes narrowed a fraction. “If you’re going to be a pain, I’m leaving.”

  Not bloody likely. Rick quickly stepped back and gestured. “Please don’t. Come in.”

  “I don’t think this warrants coming inside. Now, I—”

  Rick effectively cut her off by stepping to her side, placing his hand on the small of her back, and starting to usher her into his room.

  She stiffened and started to dig her heels in. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Being civil,” he replied cheerfully, exerting more pressure on her back. “Offering you a drink. Taking you inside rather than leaving you on the footpath for everyone to gawk out.”

  “There’s no-one gawking.”

 

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