Royal Seduction

by Donna Clayton

  The perfunctory knock on his office door had him calling out, “It’s open.”

  Faye Lassen secured a small stack of patient files in the crook of one arm. The thirty-two-year-old woman with a Ph.D. in nutrition and psychology wore her hair pinned up in a neat ’do, and wore a crisp white lab jacket over a navy knee-length skirt. One look at her and the word professional popped into one’s mind.

  “Hi, Riley,” she said. “Busy?”

  “Just reading through all this paperwork so I’ll be ready for our meeting. We should get over to the hospital soon, shouldn’t we?”

  Anxiety clouded her blue eyes. At least, he thought her eyes were blue. He couldn’t be sure since they were hidden for most part behind the iconic, huge-rimmed glasses she wore.

  “I don’t believe I’m going to be able to make it,” she told him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I was just alerted that one of my nutritionists has called in sick and I’ve got a client waiting. If I’d been told ahead of time, I’d have called her and rescheduled her appointment.”

  Riley set down the papers he’d been holding. “But I need you in that meeting with me. You know more about this place than anyone. You’ve been here since the clinic opened. You know what’s been happening around here, whereas I’ve just stepped into the job.”

  “I know, and I hate to let you down,” she said, “but I have no choice. Also—” she pushed the door closed behind her and approached his desk “—I have some information about Dr. Richie. And it’s not good news.”

  He went still. The springs in Riley’s chair creaked when he sat up straight, waiting.

  “I was approached by Detective O’Callahan. He told me he was suspicious of Dr. Richie. I’d have told you about this sooner, but I didn’t want to spread mere rumor. I told the detective I needed proof. Well, after doing some background research, the detective discovered that, although Dr. Richie excelled in some areas of study during his college years, he didn’t do so well in chemistry. Detective O’Callahan has offered hard proof.”

  Even as he took the manila folder Faye handed him, Riley thought of all those small bottles the staff at the clinic had been handing out to clients right and left. A topical weight-loss oil, NoWait had been the invention of Dr. Richard Strong, the man who had been Chief of Staff of the clinic until a woman proclaiming to be his ex-wife had disrupted his standing-room-only seminar with loud and angry accusations that had caused him to run for the high hills. Dr. Richie—as the famous health guru was known by everyone in the Pacific Northwest—hadn’t been seen in the clinic since.

  The commotion had taken place a week ago, and although Riley hadn’t been around to witness the incident, it had everyone abuzz, clients and staff alike, and he’d heard the story several times over. But he was doing all he could to suppress gossip. Riley had been shoved into this job with orders to smooth over the workings of the clinic and avoid scandal.

  He whistled, low and long. “If the public discovers that Dr. Strong wasn’t much of a chemist,” he said, “yet he had our backing when he introduced that oil, there could be big trouble for the clinic. We’ve got to pull NoWait. We need to stop using it. Today.”

  Faye nodded. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “If the newspapers pick up the story about how that stuff is affecting our clients, it could ruin the clinic’s reputation,” Riley said.

  “We’ve got to keep that from happening.”

  He unwittingly tapped the tip of his pen against the heel of his hand. “Granted, NoWait is a homeopathic treatment. It’s topical, dab a bit on the skin. What can it harm? And Dr. Richie’s papers only list natural ingredients. I’ve read them. I can’t imagine NoWait being anything but harmless.”

  “It has seemed to help our clients lose weight,” Faye said. “But everyone has also been acting rather…peculiar.”

  Peculiar wasn’t the half of it, Riley silently surmised. The first day or so on the job, he’d been too busy to notice. But he’d quickly realized that the people in the clinic seemed more frisky than normal. And he didn’t mean frisky as in lighthearted and playful, either. These people were downright lascivious.

  “We can’t automatically blame NoWait for this…odd behavior,” he hurried to say. “Not without testing.”

  “That’s true,” Faye said. “Exercise does produce high amounts of endorphins to be released in the body. Endorphins that induce a ‘feel good’ effect. That could account for the behavior.”

  The higher-ups wanted this situation handled with kid gloves. They wouldn’t be happy hearing that Riley and Faye wanted to yank NoWait from use. The clients loved the product. For more reasons than one.

  “Or it could be,” he said, “that everyone is experiencing the high of self-esteem produced by shedding those pounds and firming up, and that’s why they’re feeling amorous. A general, all-around dose of confidence might do it.”

  “Maybe,” Faye murmured. But she clearly didn’t believe it.

  “Look, you need to be at that meeting,” he told her firmly. “You’ve got the inside scoop on Richard Strong. You have that evidence. You need to make our case about the NoWait. I’ll take the client off your hands.”

  “I can’t let you do that. You’re the boss around here now. The director. And besides that—”

  “All I have to do is go over the nutrition booklet with her, right? I’ll meet you over at the hospital just as soon as I finish with the woman, okay?” Riley could tell she was about to argue. “Listen, I can’t have the meeting with hospital administration without you. But you can start it without me. I have every confidence in you.”

  The tension in her expression eased. “You’ll come right over?”

  Riley assured her he would.

  She plucked a file from the top of the small stack she carried and handed it to him. “Her name’s Catherine Houston. She’s twenty-six and in good health. She’s in conference room three. She’s due at the gym after her nutrition orientation. Oh, and you should probably know…” Faye paused long enough to pinch her bottom lip between her teeth. “I think she’s wealthy. Definitely upper crust. She purchased the whole line of vitamins, and some other supplements, too. And she bought several of the books we have for sale. She could be good for the clinic. So be nice to her.”

  Riley’s mouth twisted. Rich, self-important people he could do without.

  “Now, don’t look like that,” Faye chided. “It’s not like she’s arrogant or anything. Just the opposite, in fact. She’s really personable. Very nice. I like her. I just thought we should be nice—”

  “We’re nice to everybody.”

  A groan rumbled from the back of her throat and she frowned. “Oh, forget I said anything. You’re absolutely right.” She waved her free hand in the air. “I’m just trying to think of anything and everything that will help us overcome the mess that Dr. Richie left us in. This whole thing has got me inside out and I’m not thinking clearly.”

  That was easy to believe. Her effusive remorse confirmed she was professional to the nth degree, and Riley knew that commenting on a client’s affluence was atypical for her. Obviously, the situation had her stressed to the max. It had everyone stressed.

  “I wish Dr. Richie would show his face,” Faye muttered. “Sure would make my life easier.”

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” he assured her. “Go on over to the hospital and I’ll get to the meeting just as soon as I can.”

  Alone in his office, he stared at the plain manila file in his hand and stifled a sigh.

  Definitely upper crust.

  Great. Just what he needed. A pretentious little rich girl.

  He knew the type. Women who thought they were above people like him. What made it all the worse was that he knew it was true.

  Faye had been adamant that this woman was friendly, but that wouldn’t keep him from feeling second-rate. His mouth cocked cynically and he snatched up his lab coat.

  Well, better to get the se
ssion over with, he thought, pulling the door of his office closed behind him and making his way down the hall.

  The door of the conference room was open, but the shapely blonde had her back to the door so Riley tapped to get her attention. She swung around to greet him, her shoulder-length hair swinging, her lush, shiny lips smiling to reveal two rows of perfect, pearly teeth. Her flawless skin glowed. And he imagined the silky feel of it beneath his fingertips.

  Something strange twanged in his gut. The muscles there went tight as a knot. And his throat… It went so dry he felt as if he’d swallowed a mouthful of powder. The greeting he’d formed in his head refused to roll off his tongue.

  Immediately, mild confusion knitted the woman’s smooth brow.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked.

  Her voice had an exotic, Mediterranean lilt that triggered a reaction stemming from the most primitive part of his brain. The skin on the back of his neck quivered, and the urge to ask her to repeat herself welled up in him fiercely. Not because he hadn’t heard her question. No, it wasn’t that at all.

  She blinked, thick, tawny lashes brushing against milky skin. “Dr. Lassen set me up with Sally Henderson, the nutritionist. Dr. Lassen said she’d try to stop by, too.”

  “Sally’s out sick.” Riley moved to the oak table and set the file on it. “And Dr. Lassen was called to a meeting. It was unavoidable. Have a seat and we can go over this information.”

  As greetings went, his had probably been too abrupt and not nearly friendly enough, but he seemed to be fighting his way out of a strange fog at the moment.

  When she remained by the window on the far side of the room, Riley asked, “You are Catherine Houston?”

  “Yes.” She tucked a strand of wavy hair behind her ear, but only advanced a step or two closer to the table.

  Her hesitation surprised him. Usually, women of her ilk were confident and assertive. He waited for her to finally reach him, and then he pulled out a chair for himself, hoping she’d follow suit. Opening the file Faye had given him, Riley found the booklet and thrust it toward her.

  “Read this over,” he instructed. “And I’ll answer any questions you have.”

  She turned the booklet over in her hand, looked at the front and back cover. Then she flipped through the pages. A quick, unexpected grin played at the corners of her mouth, and Riley felt his belly go taut once again.

  “I have to read this?” Her cute nose wrinkled.

  “There is only one good—knowledge—and one evil—ignorance.”

  “Socrates.”

  “That’s right,” Riley said. “He was a smart man.”

  “Yes, but even Socrates would balk at swallowing all this in one sitting. Eighty-six pages?” she observed, glancing down at the last page. When she looked up at him, her eyes gleamed mischievously. “I don’t mind reading. I’m just surprised you’ve got that kind of time on your hands to sit there while I do.”

  If she’d felt at all uncertain before, she’d certainly made a rapid recovery.

  Good and truly put in his place, Riley said, “Yes, well…I didn’t realize… Maybe we should just touch on the high points.”

  She laughed, and he felt the enticing notes slowly tumble down each vertebra of his backbone. His spine arched slightly, and he rested his elbow on the top of the conference table, liking the unexpected calmness that washed over him.

  “There in the introduction—” he indicated the booklet in front of her and she flipped to the appropriate page “—you’ll see that there are four basic nutrients: water, carbohydrates, proteins and fats. They’re referred to as the building blocks of a good diet.”

  Her head was bent, her attention directed at the printed words. Riley couldn’t help but notice how the sunlight streaming through the window glinted off her hair, igniting it like golden fire. She looked like an entrancing goddess.

  “Good nutrition,” he espoused verbatim from what he’d memorized since taking over as director, “is the foundation of good health.”

  He let his gaze rove over her profile, along her high cheekbone, down her pert nose and the curve of her jaw-line.

  “Choosing the healthiest forms of those four basic nutrients,” he continued, “and consuming them in the correct balance—” he took an instant to inhale the soft flowery scent of her “—will enable your body to function at its optimal level.”

  Catherine Houston roused something in him. Something deep. Something basic. It was almost as if she were luring him—in a way he hadn’t been lured in a very long time.

  Like a blaring horn, the dangerous thought snapped Riley out of the bizarre trance that had nearly ensnared him. He sat up straight, and with conscious effort, folded his hands into his lap.

  Obviously he found the woman attractive. There was really nothing he could do about that. She was a beautiful woman. He was a red-blooded man. Physiologically, that was all it took.

  She chose that moment to tip her head to the side and glance up at him. The smile she flashed beaned him like a two-by-four between the eyes, and his breath left him in a rush.

  “Food is necessary,” he blurted.

  Her smile magnified, and so did his internal reaction.

  “What I meant to say is that good nutrition is necessary.” He slid his chair several inches from the table. “Look,” he told her, his tone sharper than he intended, “the information you have there in that booklet is self-explanatory. It’ll provide you with everything you need to know about nutrition and how what you eat affects your health. Read it at your convenience. If you have any questions, I’m sure Dr. Lassen would be happy to schedule another session with you.”

  What poor business practice! Faye would be upset with him, for sure. But he needed to get away from Catherine Houston. She was short-circuiting his brainwaves and turning him into a blubbering idiot.

  Her sexy mouth parted, her surprise apparent, and her full bottom lip became the all-encompassing focal point of his concentration. His gaze skittered across it, and he imagined slowly tracing the outline of the smooth, dusky skin, first with a soft caress of his thumb, then with moist strokes of his tongue.

  He stood, his thigh hitting one corner of the booklet that overhung the table and sending it shooting a good foot toward the center of the table. He cleared his throat and raked his fingers through his hair.

  “Are you all right?”

  What was that accent? he wondered. Italian? Greek?

  Riley patted his breast pocket with a shaky hand, and immediately wondered what the hell he was looking for. “Fine,” he said. “I’m fine. Like I said, read the book. And I’m sure Dr. Lassen will make herself available to you. She’d have been here today, but she was called to a meeting. And Sally’s out sick.”

  “Yes,” Catherine replied quietly. “You said that.”

  Great! As if uncalled-for rudeness weren’t enough, now he was looking downright dopey. The woman was turning him into a blubbering idiot!

  “Of course, I did. I was just…” He nodded, letting the rest of the thought fade because he had no idea what the hell the rest of the thought was. He was just what? So preoccupied with this woman’s physical attributes that he’d lost track of what he had and hadn’t said? “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll point the way to the gym. I’m sure you can find it. You don’t seem directionally challenged.”

  Directionally challenged? Where was his brain coming up with this crap?

  “There’s a trainer wait—”

  “Just a moment, please.”

  Riley went silent. There was sudden authority in her voice he hadn’t heard before. He was just glad she’d said something that made him shut the hell up.

  “I’ve been talking to some of the other clients,” she said. “They told me about a weight-loss aid that the clinic offers.”

  “You want to lose weight?” He couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his query. It was really none of his business why she’d come to the clinic, and humiliating the clients wi
th discourteously toned questions was a worse business practice than asking them to reschedule appointments. But…

  Why on earth would she think she needed to lose weight?

  Her cheeks tinged pink. “I’ve got these nagging five pounds.”

  This was a prime example of why this job was going to send him round the bend. Helping to make perfect bodies even more perfect wasn’t his idea of practicing medicine.

  “So buy bigger trousers.”

  As soon as the words rolled off his tongue, Riley knew he’d made a terrible mistake.

  But Catherine Houston didn’t tell him off as he expected. Even though she probably had every right to. However, she didn’t even seem insulted by his blunder. She remained amazingly composed.

  No negative emotion tainted either her tone or her expression as she said, “Since buying bigger trousers isn’t an option for my next shopping excursion, I’d like to ask you about NoWait.” She paused, but not long enough for him to respond. “Everyone I’ve talked to just raves about the product. I’ve heard that it’s all-natural. Can you tell me about it? What’s it made of? How does it work? And how can I get my hands on a bottle?”

  Riley pushed back the open facings of his lab coat and tucked his fists into his pockets. “I’m sorry to say the clinic isn’t endorsing NoWait at the moment. That could change, of course. And if it does, we’ll let you know. But—”

  “Oh.” Her smile waned. “I’d heard such amazing things about it, though. I was told a dab of the oil behind the ears melts off the pounds.”

  That was only one effect, unfortunately, Riley thought. The other one was a bit kinkier.

  The decision to pull the oil made good sense. The change in the behavior of those who had been using NoWait was blatant. If word got out that the clinic was promoting a product that had people feeling uninhibited and spontaneously sexual, it could result in some very bad press for the clinic, and in this litigious day and age it could also mean lawsuits galore.