Forever Perfect: Billionaire Medical Romance (A Chance at Forever Series Book 1)

by Lexy Timms

  “I can get one,” Mel assured him, her face unreadable. She raised an eyebrow at him. “If you think that obscure message will work with the plane, then they can both come together.”

  “Perhaps I could have a private consult with you, Dr. Bell?” Brant said, indicating the door and reception room beyond.

  She glanced at the young mother and smiled. It looked like the smile Brant had been making all day. “Very well, we can discuss further arrangements in the office.”

  The walk to her office was an exercise in civil animosity. Still, Brant found himself watching her ass as she walked. He was only human, after all. And, much as he hated to admit it, there was something about the woman that got to him, that he couldn’t let go. It was more than carnal—yeah, there was a lot of that involved—but it was something more. It was her. The passion, the intellect, the fire deep within her.

  When she closed the door to the office and flicked on the light she spun on him in an instant, with enough profanity to make a sailor blush. “You stupid-ass, son-of-a-bitch, selfish prick! It was a simple call!” She all but spat the words, “One call for an old woman with a…a what, belly ache?”

  “Gout.” He rolled his eyes at the memory.

  “It took you five hours to diagnose gout?! Or did you stop to play a few rounds and just forget to return the Jeep?”

  The Jeep? This was all about the freakin’ Jeep?

  Fine. She wanted to call him out? Two could play at that game. “I couldn’t get away. I visited every. Single. Person. In. That. Damn. Resort!”

  She stared at him as though trying to make the words make sense. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Think about it, Doctor!” Brant shouted the last word, burying his hands in his hair, taking all his willpower to not rip it out because he knew for a fact from one memorable college bet that he looked terrible bald.

  “What?” she snapped back. “A flu virus? An epidemic? Bad water?”

  “Yeah, exactly!” He snorted sarcastically. “There was an epidemic of age and vanity! I saw more shriveled asses and varicose veins today than anyone should ever need to.”

  “You greedy prick! You can do that when you get back to the States!” Mel was visibly upset. Or angry. He could see her shaking.

  She was the most frustrating woman he’d ever met! “You think I was moonlighting? Which is it? Drumming up business or playing 18 holes?” Anger boiled over. He hadn’t signed up for this shit! “What the hell do you want from me? Fuck it! I give up. There’s no pleasing you.” He threw his hands into the air and turned to leave.

  “What the hell? This is my fault? You signed up to come here!”

  “Yeah, I did!” he hissed as he spun around. “And I’ll do my time. But I’m sure not putting up with having that stupid-ass manager at the resort require me to consult his guests. You don’t get it, do you? You’re just concerned about the damn Jeep and making sure it was back at the clinic!” He turned again, ready to slam her office door as he left.

  “It was dark, damn it!” Melissa shouted from behind him. “You don’t know the jungle. You don’t know the roads. You didn’t call! What the hell was I supposed to think?”

  Brant stopped mid-step. A million things ran through his mind, but only one stuck. “You were worried about me?” The anger cooled a little and he felt a smile creep over his face. He couldn’t stop it and, frankly, he didn’t try. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to turn around and let her see that. “You were worried about me.” This time it came out as a statement, not a question.

  “Of course, I was worried!” she snarled. “You’re my responsibility while you’re here and you know nothing aboutanything!”

  That was just too much. He turned, not caring if she could see his expression. Taking a step toward her, grinning like a damned fool. “You were worried about me.” She was backed up to the desk, eyes blazing. Damn, she was beautiful when angry. He raised his hand, longing to touch her. His eyes dropped to her perfect pink mouth.

  She slapped him. Hard.

  “What the hell?” You’d think he would be used to it by now. The constant rain of blows. He touched his reddening skin. Damn if he wasn’t still smiling.

  “I was worried about you!” she screamed.

  “I wasn’t going to leave,” he said, feeling his smile soften, his anger evaporating. “I don’t want to leave you.” The admission surprised him, but the effect it had on her was startling.

  She looked up at him, tears of frustration and fury banked in her eyes, only she was too stubborn to let them fall. “You’re an idiot. And an ass.”

  “The fact is, Doctor,” he whispered, keeping his distance though it killed him not to touch her, “I like being with you. A lot. I want as much time with you as I can. I know I did something wrong yesterday. I don’t know what it was, but I’m very sorry, because you put up some wall and I don’t know how to get back last night.”

  “I thought…” she said, her voice heavy with emotion. “I thought you were dead. I thought you’d crashed or fallen or…”

  Oh, baby…

  He held back the words she didn’t want to hear, and instead swept her up in his arms and took the kiss he so longed for from her. It was tender and sweet, though ‘sweet’ apparently wasn’t what she had in mind. She grabbed his head and tore into him, her tongue flashing around his, lips locked on his, one leg creeping up to wrap around his back.

  His hands cupped her ass and pulled her up to his mouth so he could plunder her appropriately. He nearly tore her shirt off and she returned the favor. There was no time to look and wonder at her scars, no time for gentle exploration. The sheer energy and passion took them both, and they grabbed flesh and tasted each other with the hunger of a couple perishing from starvation. They had fire already. They fought passionately, and apparently did everything passionately.

  He felt her against him, soft and warm…hell, she was as hot as an open flame and the softness of her skin was layer over hard muscle and an iron will. She grabbed him boldly, slipping a hand inside his pants, seeking until she found him. Grasping the length of him until he groaned. He retaliated by biting her neck as a hand grasped her nipple firm enough to make her cry out.

  It wasn’t enough.

  This couldn’t possibly be enough for either of them. Foreplay ended as he stripped her pants and panties in a quick motion and lifted her onto the desk so he could bend over her properly. He kissed her in her sweet spot, tasting sex and all things woman, his tongue plundering her until she writhed and wrapped her fingers in his hair. Had they bothered to lock the door? He didn’t really give a shit at the moment.

  As she writhed beneath him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was right. Nothing had ever felt so natural. Somehow making love to her was meant to be.

  He rose above her, staring down at her flushed face, her eyes heavy-lidded with passion, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. A soft whimper escaped her lips, a plea for release born of the frustration he’d left in her by stopping so soon.

  It was a simple matter to shed his pants. To lean over her and part her thighs. Opening her to his gaze. She was wet and glistening, her legs trembling in his hands.

  “Please, Brant.”

  Concession mingled with plea. How could he refuse?

  He moved between her legs, pausing to kiss her. Letting her taste her own desire on his lips.

  As he entered her, it occurred to him that he might be helplessly, hopelessly, in love with Dr. Melissa Bell.

  It was the single-most terrifying thought of the entire day.

  Chapter 15

  Thankfully the office was also a makeshift storeroom. Fumbling through some of the supply boxes not yet put away, Mel found a couple of candles, two blankets, and a case of Fresca specially ordered for the absent Dr. Martin. It made a cozy little nest.

  She bit on a cracker rather pensively and looked at the shadows dancing on the wall. “I was just out of medical school,” she started, as though she’
d been interrupted in the middle of a conversation, knowing full well Brant hadn’t asked. She had no idea if he was even interested in what had happened. Somehow, she realized she wanted to tell—she needed to. “Michael and I met our last year when we were in a group study together. We graduated, and he’d gotten residency. I had a few offers, but I was still trying to determine which I wanted to take.”

  She pulled from the soda bottle and made a face. “We celebrated.” She bit her lip, not wanting to tell this, but knowing she needed to. She swallowed and pushed the words out. “Too much.” She shuddered, her memories flashing together, and she had no idea if she was even speaking in full sentences anymore. “There was an accident. It was a stupid, horrible accident that should never have happened.” She would have curled up in herself, but Brant’s arm wrapped around her and he held her against him. The words tripped and fell from her, but they couldn’t be stopped. Not now.

  That awkward admission of his, that he never wanted to leave her, had thrown her. The strange sentence that could be read as…she couldn’t think the word, not yet. But he had to know. If even that much he was able to say was true, he deserved to know.

  “There was a young woman in the other car.” Mel smiled, but it didn’t reach the sadness in her eyes. It felt like she was there, watching it all unfold again. In a sense, she was always there. “As it turned out she was over the limit, too. She was the one who jumped the rail and came at us the wrong way. It was ruled her fault, but we could have avoided…maybe. If we had been…more sober. I’m not even sure how much Michael had to drink. I’m not sure…” There was so much she didn’t know. So much thinking that she no longer knew what had actually happened and which scenario she’d run through her mind so many times she thought that it might be the truth. “I just always think we could have gotten out of the way, or done…something.”

  “You can’t know that,” he said, touching her face gently. Bringing her eyes around to look into his. “If she jumped the median, how much room did you have?”

  Mel sighed. “I know, I know. The police said we couldn’t have done anything differently, that we weren’t at fault, but I can’t KNOW that. There’s always the possibility that…”

  “Were you drunk?” he asked flatly.

  She flinched. She’d been asked before. But how did one answer that? “How do I know? They said I was under the limit, but I was so messed up they couldn’t exactly stop everything and check. I don’t think so, but what if I was? What if I’d had one too many? What if I hadn’t had any at all? Maybe it would’ve been different. Maybe I wouldn’t have been hurt, maybe she wouldn’t have…” She couldn’t finish. The tumble of words choked on that one. It wouldn’t come out, wouldn’t allow itself to be heard.

  “Died?” Brant asked, the single word a whisper in the semi-darkness.

  She nodded, looking at the shadows, looking back through time.

  “And Michael?”

  She barked a short laugh. “He broke a rib. They sent him home the same day. And he went home. Musta gotten out there as fast as he could.” She swallowed. “While they fought to save my life, he went home.” She shuddered. “I never saw him again. The things I’d kept at his apartment were shipped to my parents’ house.”

  He held her tightly. “Is that why you’re here? Running away?”

  She turned to face him, hurt and anger in her eyes. “Isn’t this work enough? Isn’t it worth it to use your training to help where it’s needed? Can’t a good doctor practice in a place that needs her without looking like she’s running away?”

  “Yes,” he assured her, his voice soft. Soothing. But there was a layer of something else under it that wasn’t going to allow any bullshit. “But is that the case?”

  She hated him for his brutal honesty. Hated herself as she fell against him and held on like a little girl. She was a strong, powerful woman, a doctor, the head of a clinic, and yet she felt small just then, vulnerable. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t have stopped it if she tried. “Yes. No,” she admitted to herself. “No. I ran away. I was in the hospital for six months. All the offers I had for residency dried up; no one wanted me anymore.” She laughed. “Not just Michael. I ended up doing residency in a rural hospital in Colorado. I mostly worked on people who fell off horses and stuck their hands into machinery.”

  “And then found a jungle to hide in.”

  “What I do here makes a difference.” She sniffed. He had no right to say that. He didn’t know her.

  “A major one,” he agreed, his fingers tangling in her hair. Holding her close. “It makes a big difference to your patients, to your staff…but what does it do for you?”

  She couldn’t be angry at him. He seemed to know her better almost than she knew herself. “Keeps me from remembering,” she said after a long pause, the words quiet. Meek.

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  It hurt.

  It hurt he was right. She looked up at him. “I can’t understand you,” she said, staring into the sad softness of his eyes. The realization that he cared caught her almost painfully, a little clenching that brought tears to her eyes that she dared not analyze. “Why me?” she asked, desperate not to focus on that thought that hovered at the edges, begging her to be recognized.

  “Why not you?” He smiled. “I live in L.A. I’m a plastic surgeon. That, by the way, is the first and only time I have ever or ever will use that expression. But the truth is… You’re the first thing in my life I ever felt was real. And that includes me. I don’t know too many real people. They’re all silicone and implants and liposuction. I’ve made a fortune from vanity, but I met you and you’re…you’re real.”

  “That was a long way around.” She laughed, the tension easing a little.

  “I almost failed speech,” he admitted. “I had to cheat.”

  “How do you cheat at speech?”

  “Long story. I had something on the professor…”

  “Blackmail?” She looked up at him, incredulous.

  “No. Extortion.” He chuckled and she slapped his arm.

  It was fun. It was flirty. For a moment she just wanted to get lost in that feeling. Dr. Melissa Bell finally relaxing. But there were still things that needed to be said. “I just thought…” she said after a moment, “if this is going to go somewhere…you needed to know.” She held her breath. Waiting. Was this going somewhere? Tell me this is going somewhere.

  “So now you’ve told me all your deep, dark secrets.” He smiled, and kissed her ear. “I might use it as extortion if you make me give a speech.”

  “All but one,” she said, biting her lip again, ruining the playful moment. If she was going to do this, he needed to know everything.

  “What’s that?” He held her tightly again. She could get used to this.

  She took a deep breath. “I was driving.”

  “Not your fault,” he whispered in her ear. He lay her down on the blankets and rolled on top of her. She stared up at him in the half-light, stunned. Uncertain. Recognizing that he wasn’t blaming her. That maybe everything could be okay.

  Then, as her body welcomed his, as he touched her tenderly, every soft kiss a testament to his passion, he whispered the words that changed everything.

  “It might just be possible, Dr. Bell, that I’m in love with you.”

  * * *

  Morning light broke through the window and Mel felt every inch of her aching and sore. First the desk then the floor? It was no wonder she felt sore this morning. She grinned, enjoying the feeling. There was no regret, no desire to push him away.

  “Love.” He’d used the ‘L’ word. She smiled at the thought and then tried to remember if she’d said it back. Had she? Did she? Could she be in love with him? That quickly? He was rich, intelligent, attractive, infuriating, antagonizing, frustrating…oh crap. She did love him.

  She shifted, realizing almost belatedly that she was in her hammock, alone. She swung wildly a moment, clutching her blanket, clutching the hammock itsel
f until things calmed. He’d carried her back here at some point, she realized. He must not have stayed.

  She sighed and flopped back, reliving the night in her mind. She ought to get up, she knew, but right now each memory was so absolutely…delicious. For a moment her hand strayed between her thighs, and she allowed herself a little activity to accompany the thoughts. Imagining that it was his hands, no…his tongue there.

  Yes…

  She writhed a little, tangling herself in the blanket, head turning on the pillow, noticing…noticing…

  What WAS that?

  A note sat on the box next to her that she used as a nightstand of sorts. Paper crisp and folded neatly so that it tented and stood up, her name clearly written on the front.

  Plane landed at dawn, Dentist and Gas Man on board. Surgery ASAP. Get sleep, see you later.

  Somehow, he’d managed to get the resort to make a special trip by threatening to set up shop in the lobby. She would have to ask him about that, but later. In the meantime, he was about to repair a cleft palate and she was missing out on it.

  Personal pleasure forgotten, she struggled into her clothing and ran from the office to the clinic. Carmen was in her usual sentry position and regarded Mel over the top of her glasses. If there was a slight huff, Mel was willing to ignore it. Carmen was…Carmen. Some things had to be overlooked.

  Tina and Elena were huddled closely together in the next room, giggling like schoolgirls. They broke off their conversation when she entered. Tina’s eyes widened and the two nurses regarded each other.

  “Where is Bra—Where’s Dr. Layton?”

  “In surgery,” Elena said slowly, glancing at Tina, the corners of her lips twitching as if she were restraining a laugh.

  “Why wasn’t I informed?”