Healing Touch: Play Doctor, Book 2

by Jayne Rylon

  “Next time you can sit up front.” Becca pushed a few buttons. The covering on the sunroof slid back and then the glass lifted. The extra pane helped Brielle see more of the clouds and the breeze was enough to splash her cheeks without disrupting the stylish half-up, half-down curly hairdo Becca had crafted.

  “I’m sure Luke won’t let her out of his sight next time. Good luck riding on his bike in a dress like that, though.” Kurt smiled at his wife. “Maybe he’ll be forced to give up that ridiculous thing after all.”

  “How can you guys be so confident this is a good idea? Are you sure he’s not going to mind me showing up unannounced?” Acid churned in her stomach. She folded her hands over the gurgling in an attempt to still the nervous reaction.

  “I’ve known the guy since we thought girls were icky.” Kurt shifted smoothly as he wove between traffic and zipped through a yellow light. “He’s had about a hundred and forty-seven crushes since then. Never once did I believe it was the real deal. Hell, I didn’t used to think there was such a thing. Maybe partially because I’d see him ‘fall in love’ over and over, only to change his mind once the infatuation wore off.”

  “You’re not making me feel a heck of lot better.” Closing her eyes didn’t help the dizziness starting to spin her world around. “I don’t do this. I’ve only ever been with one man, for Christ’s sake. I’m way out of my league. Maybe you could pull over and let me out. I just saw the Red Line bus. I can take that straight home.”

  “Way to go, Kurt.” Becca slapped his thigh lightly. “I think what my misguided husband is trying to say is that Luke is different with you. He’s cautious. Taking things slow.”

  “We’ve only really known each other for half a week and already he spent the night. You think that’s slow?” Brielle’s voice rose an octave.

  “It’s more like, he’s giving you space. Usually, he’d be flirting and weaseling his way into your good graces.” Kurt paused as if considering how to explain himself. “He’s afraid of messing up and more concerned about doing the right thing for you than he is about getting what he wants in the short term. I couldn’t believe he backed off so easily on convincing you to join us tonight. It’s very…not his style.”

  “And somehow the fact that he didn’t fight me about not coming makes you think he wants me here?” She leaned forward, bonking her forehead on the back of Becca’s seat. “You people are more fucked up than I am. Crazy-ass psychologists.”

  “In the immortal words of Alfred E. Neuman, ‘It takes one to know one—and vice versa’.” Kurt grinned, and for a moment she could picture him and Luke as teenagers, huddled together over a MAD magazine. One dark, one light—both kids. They would have tempered each other. Could she and Luke find the same balance?

  Desperately, she hoped so.

  They overflowed the car with laughter.

  By the time she’d caught her breath and dabbed a happy tear from the corner of her eye, carefully so as not to mess up the magic Becca had worked on her makeup, Kurt had swung into the valet line at an opulent hotel Brielle had admired from the grungy bus windows.

  How had her life changed so drastically in just a few days?

  She unclipped her seat belt, but Becca waited for Kurt to round the hood of his sleek sports car. After handing his wife out, steadying her on her heels at the start of the red carpet and kissing her cheek, he slid the seat forward then reached in for Brielle.

  “You’re going to do great. Luke’s going to let me off the hook for the favor he did me last year.” Kurt took her hand and squeezed gently. “You look beautiful. Enjoy tonight, have fun and don’t worry about anything. You’re perfect the way you are.”

  As pep talks went, it ticked all her worry boxes.

  “I can’t believe I used to be afraid of you.” Happy for his support, she ducked out of the tight doorway. “You’re really pretty sweet under all that serious crap.”

  “Why thank you, Ms. Norris.” He shifted her grip to his elbow, extended the other to his wife then led them both toward the wide-open doors. Cameras flashed in their faces as the guests of honor made their way inside.

  Brielle tried not to shy away from the lights and pasted a faux smile on her face.

  Kurt joked with reporters about his two gorgeous dates.

  Through the lightning bursts, she caught sight of a tall, blond man up ahead. He leaned over, facing away from her.

  “Luke,” she called out before thinking better of the overzealous display, frankly sans manners.

  When he whipped his head in their direction, he angled his body toward her. And that’s when she saw the woman he’d just kissed on the cheek. The cute, young lady draped over his arm exactly as she and Becca were on Kurt’s.

  “Oh shit,” she balked. Stopping dead, her hand yanked free of Kurt’s elbow.

  Of course, Luke wouldn’t attend alone. Eligible, successful and sexy, he’d brought someone else. Another date. One of the zillions of girls he’d crushed on.

  How could she have been so stupid?

  “Brielle, don’t.” Kurt reached for her. Becca hadn’t noticed and kept walking as she waved to the crowd. Tugged forward, Kurt left a gap between Brielle and the happy couple.

  A reporter stepped in the chasm between them, hoping to snag a quote for his journal article. “Dr. Foster, congratulations on your achievements. Could I ask—”

  “Just a moment, please.” He tried to break through. When he lunged in her direction, irrational terror gripped her throat.

  Brielle, get in the closet.

  “No!” She stumbled backward. Her borrowed heel caught in the fancy cobblestone pavers as she stepped off the runner. The crowd staggered away from the drama.

  Always causing problems.

  “Kurt, don’t chase her,” Becca intervened, granting Brielle the instant she needed to escape.

  She abandoned the shoe where it stuck in the ground and bolted. Uneven strides didn’t add to her dignity. At this point, what did it matter?

  Foolishness had already reached all-time highs.

  She gathered her full skirt and darted for the sidewalk.

  Up ahead, a flash of gray emerged from the alley. Skidding to a stop, Luke blocked her path.

  Shit. Crap. Damn.

  “Brielle.” He held his hands out, palms facing her as if she were a wild animal. He didn’t attempt to encroach on her space.

  “Let me go, Luke.” She sniffled, horrified she’d add tears in public to the list of faux pas she’d committed.

  “No way in hell.” He tested out taking a teensy step forward. “I mean, you’re free to do as you like, but I’d appreciate it if you’d let me explain first. Please.”

  She shuffled away. “Your date is waiting. Don’t make her feel awkward. I’m sorry I ruined your entrance. Your night.”

  “Sweetheart, Elsa is not my date.” He shook his head so vehemently she might have giggled at another time. He looked like a big, shaggy, huggable dog when his blond hair swung around his head.

  “You could have fooled me.” She cringed. “I saw how you looked at her.”

  “Like I care for her?” The affection she’d witnessed returned. “I do. She’s clueless. And adorable. And part of our family.”

  Brielle’s heart cracked a little more with each term of endearment. “Then go back to her. She obviously means something to you.”

  “Yeah, no shit.” He actually rolled his eyes. “She’s Becca’s little sister. Believe me, she’s not mature enough for any real man and I’d never think of her that way.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. You’re the woman I slept with last night, Brielle. Have you forgotten already? If you give me another chance, I can try to make tonight more memorable.” He advanced again.

  This time she held her ground. “Becca’s sister?”

  “Yeah.” His pursed lips made it seem like he’d sucked on a lemon. “And now I have the ridiculous image of her and me burned into my occipital cortex. Thanks a lot.” />
  Brielle dropped her face into her palms.

  “Are you laughing or crying?” he asked softly.

  “Both.” An undignified hiccup accompanied her response.

  “Okay. I can work with that.” Luke sidled closer. “I’m going to hug you now, all right?”

  She nodded without meeting his gaze, afraid of what she might find there.

  For a few seconds, she needed to steal comfort before admitting she’d royally screwed up a terrific thing. She murmured into his chest, “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to apologize for.” He rubbed her bare back below the ends of her curls. “Your assumptions were logical. I can’t fault you for that. I’m telling you right now, though, whatever this thing is between us isn’t some casual affair for me. I’ve had plenty of those.”

  Her flinch separated them just a tad.

  “Before.” His tone held some grit now. “This is different. For us both, I think. I hope. It’s something special and I plan to see where it takes us. Are you game?”

  “I think so.” She clutched his shoulders, hoping she didn’t wrinkle the fancy fabric covering their broad span. “But I’m clearly not much good at this shit. Too bad for you. You should have picked better.”

  Laughter rumbled beneath her cheek. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I couldn’t have found someone more flawlessly flawed than you.”

  “You’re nuts.” A puff of air passed her lips. “Luke?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s jabbing me in the back?” She had barely noticed the discomfort in his hold.

  “Oh.” When he released her, she regretted mentioning it. Nothing was worth encouraging him to let go. “Sorry. It’s your heel. Let me guess, Becca lent you these monsters?”

  “Huh?” Dazzled by his nearness, and the relief flooding her system, she didn’t realize what he referred to at first.

  Luke sank to one knee at her feet. “Lean on me.”

  She did as instructed, placing her shaking hands on his shoulders. “What are you doing? Don’t mess up your pants.”

  “Shush for once.” The skirt of her dress whooshed as he swept aside the waves of material that expanded outward from her knees down.

  Gaping, she didn’t resist when he lifted her bare foot from the pavement, which radiated heat after the long, hot day. He placed a kiss on her ankle then slipped her abandoned shoe into place. “Love the nail polish.”

  Thank God Becca and she had taken time to exchange minipedicures while waiting for their hair to set.

  “Thank you.” She stared into his eyes and hoped he understood. Unwilling to take the chance he might not, she put a finger beneath his chin and encouraged him to stand. “I can’t tell you how much I value your patience and empathy. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

  “You’re welcome.” A soft kiss followed, showing her exactly how much he meant it. “And you don’t have to do anything. You’re human, Brielle. Entitled to love, compassion, forgiveness and tolerance. Just because you’ve lived with barbarians who didn’t freely give you those fundamentals, doesn’t mean you weren’t worthy of them.”

  “I—” She couldn’t think of a single response to adequately convey the bliss that erased the last of her doubts and fears. Reaching up, she touched his cheek with the tips of her fingers.

  “Shh.” Another kiss spared her from responding. This one held a lifetime of longing and, from her side, hope. “You don’t have to say anything, Brielle. I feel it too. This chemistry. You do the same thing to me. By being you. Besides, if we don’t cut this crap out you’ll either have no makeup left—not that I think you need it—or I’ll say to hell with the award ceremony and whisk you straight to my place for a more in-depth demonstration of my personal philosophies.”

  “Maybe I could get a rain check on the whisking and your personal stuff?” She nibbled the inside of her cheek as she peeked up at him.

  “This is going to be the longest couple hours of my life.” With that, he swiped at her cheeks using his thumbs, then claimed her hand, interlaced their fingers and led her inside.

  Chapter Eight

  Brielle lit up the room. Any initial awkwardness she’d suffered had faded before the appetizers made their appearance. Luke grinned as she joked with Becca’s sister, Elsa. The pair had hit it off right away when Elsa proclaimed she only wished Luke had the hots for her and declared Brielle a superlucky bitch.

  Elsa seemed to amuse Brielle with her frivolous issues, just as she did Luke. It was refreshing to find someone whose worst day consisted of a broken nail or a mediocre grade, even if they didn’t realize how fortunate they were.

  Yet another thing he and Brielle had in common.

  Kurt and Becca did everything but supply him with a stash of condoms. He didn’t doubt for an instant that, if he asked, they’d run to the gift shop in the lobby between courses to stock him up. Their approval meant more than he’d realized. So often had Kurt treated Luke’s dates with polite aloofness that Luke hadn’t realized the difference between that standard response and true endorsement.

  As dinner plates were collected and coffee served, Becca grew quiet. Brielle noticed right away, impressing Luke with her perceptiveness.

  “You’re going to do great,” Brielle reassured the young doctor before Kurt could beat her to it. “Your introduction speech sounded awesome when you rehearsed it earlier. You had it down pat. Although, you still haven’t explained some of your statements to me.”

  “I’ll leave Luke in charge of that.” Becca grinned. “If there are things you don’t understand after Kurt’s segment of tonight’s presentation, your date can fill you in. Who knows, maybe you could find the Dream Machine useful? It’s an option, Brielle. Please think about it. Kurt’s invention gave me everything, made all this possible. I’d advise you to include a session as part of your treatment plan.”

  Voice pitched low, the suggestion didn’t carry to the rest of the guests at the table or those mingling nearby. Still, Luke scooted his chair near to his date so he could drape his arm around her shoulders. The instinct to protect her roared to life, surprising him with its intensity.

  Could she handle facing her fears? He’d verged on suggesting the same thing last night. Believed as Becca obviously did, that the outlandish technique was actually a sensible solution.

  If Brielle was strong enough to make the request, he’d help her get through the intense therapy as best she could.

  Creamy skin beneath his wrist tempted him to touch. Her hair slipped through his fingers, as soft as silk.

  Brielle leaned into his caresses. She glanced up at him with a tentative smile.

  “You don’t have to decide right now. Listen tonight, learn, and we can discuss it Saturday. After you’ve had some time to really consider your options.” He looked first to Brielle, then to Kurt and Becca.

  They all nodded.

  “And now we’d like to welcome the recipients of Elembreth University’s prestigious faculty award. For Most Influential Research of the Year, please show your support for Doctors Foster and Foster as they make their way to the stage for the keynote address.”

  Spotlights swung in their direction. Although they lasered in on Kurt and Becca, all Luke could see was the way they limned Brielle’s profile, haloing her in a bright, golden glow.

  She cheered for his friends, a heartfelt whoop slipping from her lips above all the polite clapping. He joined right in, adding a sharp whistle to the clamor.

  Kurt glanced back and grinned.

  Brielle cursed the third cup of punch she’d chugged during Becca and Kurt’s presentation. She’d felt the need to clear the dryness parching her mouth while they described an experiment so risqué that even their clinical depiction couldn’t mask the underlying tones of sexuality. Poor Elsa had winced her way through the hour-long, detailed account of her sister’s sexual awakening at the hands of her mentor, and now husband.

  After the speech, which had given Brielle plenty to mull
over, the floor was opened for the dancing Becca had promised. Classic Sinatra and Martin crooned by the live performers provided plenty of opportunity for Luke to sway, dip and twirl her around the ballroom. Mostly, though, he tucked her tight to his chest and rocked in time to the beat.

  She followed his lead, and he never steered her wrong. They glided effortlessly between other couples and the tables on the fringes of the space. After a while, she’d closed her eyes and allowed him to guide her on feel alone.

  Two songs later, she couldn’t delay another moment.

  Brielle blinked at the sparkles cast by the triple-tiered chandelier above them, then went to her tiptoes to lay a smacking kiss on Luke’s cheek. She gave him a wink. “I’m sorry but I’ve got to hit the ladies’ room.”

  “I was wondering…since you haven’t gone all night.” He tucked a stray section of hair behind her ear. “Are you afraid?”

  “Nope.” She smiled. “Becca did some recon earlier, during her nervous-pee phase, and reported that the facilities are enormous. Mostly I was concerned about wriggling out of this contraption.”

  “I could help you with that.” His pupils dilated.

  “I have no doubts.” A smirk crossed her lips. “What if we see how talented you are later?”

  “That’s a challenge I’m willing to accept, Ms. Norris.” He tickled her.

  “Ohmigod.” A squeak escaped as she jerked away, laughing. “Don’t do that or I’ll spring a leak. Seriously.”

  He grinned. “Why don’t you take care of that while I start the process of making my goodbyes? By the time you’re finished wrestling with that dress, I should be able to wrap up so we can take this party somewhere a hell of a lot more private.”

  “Are you sure I’m not interfering with your duties?” She hadn’t realized until tonight how much more responsibility he had than the average professor. He wasn’t just the owner of his practice and a member of the university’s Psychology Department. Hell no, he was the head of the whole shebang, which meant another layer of obligations.