Overdose: A British Bad Boy Romance

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Overdose: A British Bad Boy Romance Page 8

by Raven St. Pierre


  “Twenty-five.”

  She nodded, calculating that Zander was ten years older.

  “Twenty-five and he’s a royal mess,” he added.

  “How so?”

  Zander sipped his Scotch. “Drinks too much, spends too much, and I have the sinking suspicion he’s getting high on something other than life these days,” he said, masking the disappointment with a faint smile.

  Vanessa noticed he did that often, pushed his true emotions aside.

  “I suppose we’ve both got our vices, he and I,” Zander added.

  “Well… we all have them. Even me.”

  Now he was intrigued. “Do share. Promise not to judge.”

  Vanessa shook her head in protest while smiling at how engrossed he suddenly became. “Why are you so adamant about unearthing my imperfections? I assure you, I have them. More than a few, actually.”

  Zander shrugged. “I just need to know you’re human. You seem so… good.” He hadn’t encountered many women who, despite their attraction to him, didn’t at least flirt back when he put forth the effort—married or not. And even though Vanessa wasn’t quite ready to admit it, he was positive their interest was mutual. Still, she managed to resist him.

  Getting more comfortable in his seat, Zander studied Vanessa’s body language—guarded, but gradually becoming more receptive the longer she sat with him.

  “There has to be another side to you,” he asserted. “A side that doesn’t always play by the rules. A dirty side perhaps?”

  Her cheeks burned at Zander’s words, but she couldn’t help but to smile harder.

  “You do remember that I’m not exactly available, right?” She recalled the conversation that prompted her to end their last session early. While, yes, her divorce was soon to be final, Zander wasn’t privy to such details. As far as he knew, she was unavailable, but that didn’t keep him from pressing; from trying to force her barriers down.

  “Of course, I remember. How could I forget?” He stared so hard Vanessa almost had to look away. “Your husband, he’s the reason you’ve been out of sorts lately. Am I right?” Inwardly, he cringed, acknowledging the old man.

  She couldn’t possibly disclose this information to Zander. They weren’t friends and, although Zander was technically a professional, too, that was not the nature of their relationship. She couldn’t forget that. Instead of giving him a chance to read her face, she averted her eyes, but the maneuver was just a second too late.

  Zander knew he was on to something.

  His eyes narrowed as he thought to himself. Money couldn’t be the problem; Vanessa and her husband were both well-established and he knew her client load was full. Jim had told him so when he stressed that he’d try to get him an appointment with her.

  Zander thought deeper, which Vanessa could see, although he hadn’t said anything. She had this sinking feeling that he’d unearth all her secrets soon if she didn’t hurry to put on a good poker face, so she tried to.

  He couldn’t imagine her husband would cheat. Vanessa was way out of the old man’s league. ‘Even he has to realize that’, Zander thought to himself. Vanessa was hiding something and he wanted to know what that ‘something’ was.

  They stared at one another in a standoff of sorts. He wanted inside her head, while she was certain keeping him out was the safest thing.

  Vanessa’s heart clenched in her chest when she thought of Simon’s indiscretions—the ones she knew of, anyway. For the first few months, and sometimes even now, she found herself wondering if she’d given her husband a reason to cheat, examining herself under the harshest of microscopes. Knowing he’d gone outside their marriage made her feel inadequate. Like less than a woman. Unattractive. All those things had run through her mind at some point, but in general, she just realized that, no matter what she had to offer, Simon wanted more.

  It went deeper than wanting to keep Zander in the dark because he was a patient. She didn’t want him to know because it would ruin the image he had of her. The power and mystery he seemed to think she possessed would all fizzle the moment he knew the truth; that she wasn’t enough for her husband. As much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t want Zander to look at her differently. Right now, with all she’d been through, she needed to be thought as sexy, perfect. Call it ego, call it vain, but she did. She secretly craved Zander’s attention as much as he enjoyed giving it to her.

  When she drifted, Zander stared at her from across the table, wishing he knew where her thoughts had taken her. She came to and blinked those big, beautiful, brown eyes his way. She’d been tense since day one, increasingly so based on what he observed in their last session. The underlying frustration she carried with her tonight was further proof.

  “In the very least, you’re unhappy with him,” Zander finally conceded when he couldn’t figure her out—a fact that both frustrated and intrigued him. “Why stay?”

  She didn’t answer, but she did glance down at her bare ring finger.

  “So you don’t deny that you’re unhappy,” Zander continued on with his analysis.

  This was too much; this conversation. Realizing she may have made a mistake meeting him here, Vanessa decided to end the evening. “I should be going.”

  Zander wouldn’t hear of it, sending a gently spoken command Vanessa’s way. “Stay.”

  There was an air of pleading beneath the surface of the word and it didn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

  To disperse some of the nervous energy Zander had just sent scurrying up her spine, Vanessa ran a hand across the back of her neck. “Why are you so determined to get inside my head?” she asked. “I promise I’m not nearly as interesting as you think I am.”

  Zander held her attention, resting his elbows on the table as he moved in close. Vanessa sucked in a breath when she realized she was trapped there in his gaze.

  He narrowed his eyes and commanded her attention. “Now, see? That’s where you’re wrong, love. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you’d admit I’ve been inside that pretty little head of yours ever since the very moment we laid eyes on each other.”

  His senses became heightened and he zeroed in on her reaction to him—the way her nostrils flared ever so slightly when he wet his lips, how her pulse vibrated faster at the center of her clavicle.

  “You’re not as good at hiding from me as you think you are,” he added.

  She forced herself to blink.

  “I’m willing to bet you find yourself thinking about me at all the wrong times,” he stated firmly. “How often have you imagined my touch on that soft, delicate skin of yours? How often have you wondered how good it would feel to just… give in?”

  The intensity in his tone shook Vanessa to her core. Zander could practically smell her panicking and it did nothing but send a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

  “Admit it… you ache for me in ways you never thought possible, Dr. Ferris, and it scares the hell out of you,” he said with an air of knowing.

  Vanessa sat there, staring, unable to move or speak.

  Zander continued just above a whisper, watching Vanessa’s gaze slip down to his lips. “I could do things to that delicious body of yours that would make it hard to ever look your mother in her eyes again. And when it’s over?” He smiled. “You’ll come crawling back asking for it over, and over, and over again.”

  Vanessa felt her hands quivering in her lap. His promises made parts of her body tingle that he should never rightly have access to, but she couldn’t help it.

  Zander didn’t dare look away from those deep, brown eyes of hers and miss this moment. She was nearly brimming over with need as she fought to keep her expression from giving it all away. She wanted him, too, and he knew it.

  “Stay,” he repeated.

  Vanessa sucked in a breath and felt heat spread up her neck, to her cheeks. Realizing that he’d successfully convinced her, Zander eased his back against his seat and smiled a little.

  “Thank you.


  Vanessa said nothing, just monitored her heart thudding against her ribcage. Zander casually signaled the waitress to the table and ordered another round of drinks. He locked eyes with Vanessa again and cocked his head to the side.

  “Now… let’s try this again. Why’re you so unhappy, love?”

  Vanessa knew she shouldn’t share the intimate details of her marriage—or what was left of it—with another man, especially one who’s predatory in nature like Zander. However, she’d done such a poor job thus far of keeping him at bay.

  “I’d rather not say,” was how she chose to reply.

  Zander wondered why she was so hard to read on this one subject? Was it as simple as the sex just being terrible? Bland? No… she was more complex than that. Whatever was going on was deeper.

  A thought occurred to him. It was simple, and yet, he hadn’t considered it until now. “You’re leaving him, aren’t you?” Zander asked flatly.

  Perhaps it was the good-naturedness he sensed about Vanessa that made it hard for him to imagine her ending her marriage, but that was naïve of him.

  She didn’t say a word. However, from the look on her face, Zander could tell he’d hit the nail on the head.

  While the normal response to someone in her situation would have been a compassionate ‘I’m sorry’, Zander didn’t even think to utter those words. He wasn’t sorry and it wasn’t in him to lie. Of all the sins counted against him, being a liar was not one of them.

  He didn’t mind having to ask all the questions as long as Vanessa kept answering with her facial expressions and body language—those answers were usually more honest than verbal responses anyway.

  She was leaving him…

  It felt like her heart stopped in her chest. Without question, she knew he’d figured it all out.

  “Does he already know?” Zander pressed, not meaning to offend Vanessa, but he was just so curious.

  How far into this process was she? How long until she was no longer distracted by being linked to a man Zander was sure never deserved her in the first place? Was this a new development? Had it been in the works for months? If so, did that mean she hadn’t been touched in a while?

  Ohhh… the thought of her needing him even more than he realized caused his breath to quicken.

  “This… I can’t—”

  “Can’t what?” Zander watched Vanessa and it made her so much more appealing knowing how hard it was for her to be around him; seeing the conflict, the tug of her logical mind pulling her in one direction while her subconscious mind wanted her to stay exactly where she was—with him.

  Was she wet right now? Did she know he was hard for her? Zander bet the answer to both those questions was ‘yes’.

  She was practically in knots with frustration, sexual and otherwise. He smelled it on her.

  “How long do you think you’ll be able to go on like this?” he asked. “It’s already affecting your work.”

  Vanessa frowned, somehow knowing what he meant. Second in line to the emotional distress of this divorce was the sexual deprivation. With Zander’s heightened awareness, and with how adamant he was to break her down, she didn’t even have to wonder.

  “It isn’t,” she shot back defensively.

  Zander smiled. “Mood swings, outbursts. I can’t be your only patient who’s noticed how terribly distracted you’ve been,” he said, exaggerating Vanessa’s behavior to make her buy into his theory. “You need to let off some steam.”

  And he had several ideas of ways he could help with that.

  She took a breath and shook her head. “Just stop. You want me to blow this out of proportion, but I won’t do that. There’re plenty of women going through divorces and they’re surviving it, every aspect of it, just fine without the aid of a man.”

  “Yes… that may be true, but… you’ve got other options.”

  Goosebumps prickled her skin. “No, actually I don’t.”

  A husky laugh left Zander’s mouth as he acknowledged that, as badly as he wanted Vanessa, it would’ve been disappointing if she’d given in that easily. The waitress interrupted temporarily to set their drinks on the table. Zander gave her a hundred-dollar bill to cover the tab and tip so she wouldn’t have to bother them again. When he focused his attention on Vanessa once more, she took a sip of her Gin and Tonic.

  “Why’re you fighting this?” he asked abruptly.

  “What exactly am I fighting?”

  “You know just as well as I do; I’d gladly tend to that little… problem of yours,” he said with a sly smile. “Whenever, and wherever, you’d like me to.”

  Vanessa’s cheeks tightened with a smile as she shook her head. “It’ll never happen.” She meant to sip her drink, but ended up emptying her glass before looking down at her watch. “And this time I’m serious. I have to leave. It’s getting late and I have an early day tomorrow.”

  Zander watched as she checked her purse for her keys. When she found them, she scooted out of the booth. He sipped his scotch once more and tucked his wallet back into his pocket when he stood.

  Vanessa stumbled a little and it was hard to tell if it was because she was trying to get away so quickly or if it was the alcohol. She grabbed the side of the booth and steadied herself.

  “You’re buzzed. Let me call you a cab,” Zander offered, thinking he could’ve offered her a ride himself if he’d come in his car instead of on his bike. He was sure the idea of riding on the back of his motorcycle would be ‘inappropriate’ in her eyes, so he didn’t even present the option.

  She put her hand up. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Well, at least let me follow you home.” When Vanessa shot Zander a harsh look, he put his hands up in surrender, smiling at her reaction. “Just to make sure you get there safely.”

  She didn’t answer right away. Just stared.

  “If I don’t, I’ll be worried sick all night. Please….”

  Whether Vanessa believed it or not, his intentions were as pure as they seemed. She studied his face, searching for an ulterior motive, and then cut her eyes at him as she agreed to his terms. He escorted her to her car in silence and opened the driver’s-side door like any gentleman would. She stepped in and Zander’s eyes crawled up the length of her legs until the door slammed shut. He smiled at her without the gesture being returned and then traipsed to his bike.

  From the rearview mirror, Vanessa watched him secure a helmet on his head—black, which matched the dark jeans he wore, his tasteful, leather jacket, his bike—and then she backed out of her spot, taking a breath to combat the thought that entered her mind; he looked sexy as hell on that thing. Zander was close behind as she exited the lot. Every so often, she glanced up into the mirror, seeing that he was still on her tail.

  While she watched him, Zander watched her, too, memorizing every single turn and street name right down to the name of her subdivision. They proceeded at a steady twenty-five miles an hour to the large, tri-level, brick house nestled into a quiet, wooded cul-de-sac.

  Vanessa pulled into the driveway and felt her chest vibrating with her rapid heartbeat. Tonight was intense. Before Zander got the bright idea to approach her and continue their conversation, she waved him off, quickly scurrying to the keypad on the wall to close the garage behind her. As the door came down, he waved back and then disappeared on the other side of it.

  Letting her shoes hit the wall when she flung them from her feet, she hurried through the dark house to the front door, watching through the peephole as Zander pulled off. Her heart raced listening to the bike engine purr when he revved it, going twice as fast as he should’ve been in a residential neighborhood. There was something about him that screamed ‘Run in the other direction!’ However, the fact that she’d given in and met him for drinks tonight spoke volumes. Clearly, she wasn’t listening to that still, small voice that cautioned her away from him.

  What was she doing, though? Besides playing with fire… Was she into him? Was it just that she craved his attention
because of what her heart had endured the last several months? Did she really see something appealing in him or did she secretly just want to take him up on the no-strings-attached sex he offered on every occasion she’d been in his presence?

  At the mere thought of giving in to him, she came down off her tippy-toes and rested her forehead against the door. While, yes, her head was still foggy, one thing was for sure; if she ever did go temporarily insane and found herself at the mercy of Dr. Zander Hale, she could no longer be his therapist. She couldn’t. It was unethical and she refused to go there.

  ‘Oh my gosh… Am I really considering this?’ she thought to herself. ‘No, it has to be the alcohol talking,’ she reasoned.

  That had to be it, because if it wasn’t the two or three drinks putting these thoughts in her head, it would mean Zander had been right and a future encounter between them was inevitable. At the thought of the path she was headed down, Vanessa placed a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes.

  As bad as I want to… I can’t.

  I can’t.

  Chapter Eight

  Simon was in his office finishing some last minute paperwork while Vanessa left pamphlets on the seven seats she’d arranged in a circle for her guests. Group meetings were typically held in the conference room to get patients out of the office setting and into an environment that encouraged them all to get involved in the conversation. Greta had long since gone home and the overall feel of the meeting was far less formal than the usual sessions—and not to mention, free of charge.

  Vanessa and Simon had adopted this monthly routine the second year they opened their practice. Many of their patients expressed how the hardest part of overcoming their conditions was feeling like they were alone and that no one understood what they experience on a daily basis. These sessions proved that these feelings were imagined and Vanessa believed they could learn a great deal from one another.

  “Am I early?”

  Vanessa gasped, clutching her chest when she turned to find Zander standing in the doorway of the conference room.

 

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