“Because you always get your way, right, Doc?” Anthony said with a smirk.
Doc laughed. “Yeah. Besides, everyone needs a little help, a first chance, a shot at doing something they’ve never done before. You did, remember?”
Anthony opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out.
Doc was right. When Anthony was in medical school, Doc had promised him that if he worked hard, he would help him succeed. True to his word, Doc had mentored him and opened doors to people and opportunities that Anthony would have never had access to by himself.
He stared out across the open waters. “Going with an independent architect as opposed to a small or even midsized firm is risky. Liza is going to have fewer resources, and since she recently moved to the area, I’m sure she won’t have the construction contacts that a full-services firm would.”
“She’s a smart woman who will navigate her way quickly. She designed my home. You can trust her.”
“I don’t know, Doc.” Anthony shrugged, lifting a fistful of sand and watching the granules slip through to the ground below.
“Tell you what. If you hire her, I’ll pay her fee. The entire thing.”
Anthony sucked in a breath and whistled “That’s very generous of you, Doc, and possibly, very stupid.”
“Not at all. I believe in you. I believe in her. Someday, so will you.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Think quickly.”
“So what’s on your plate for the rest of the day? Besides making me feel guilty.”
Doc chuckled. “No patients today. Just me, a good book and a glass of chardonnay under the umbrella by my beautiful, sparkling pool. And you?”
“Sleeping, and then back to the hospital later this afternoon. I’m thinking about taking a drive out to the construction site tomorrow morning.”
“Oh? Take Liza. You won’t regret it.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Anthony replied, rubbing his temple.
Doc laughed. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”
Anthony ended the call and grimaced, suddenly remembering the sweet, caring tone of Liza’s voice when she’d asked him if he was happy.
The question had come out of the blue, and he had to admit, he’d been pondering it ever since.
Happy?
For the most part he was. He had plenty of money, a great career and a small group of close friends. Plus, he was about to embark on a brand-new adventure, building and owning his own business, something he’d dreamed about for years.
He slipped his phone into his pocket and inhaled the salty air into his lungs. The beach was empty at this hour except for seagulls dive-bombing the ocean for their breakfast, and Anthony couldn’t have been happier at the lack of human beings in close proximity.
Bay Point was a small town, and everyone seemed to either know him personally or know about him. While it was great for attracting new patients, it was terrible for maintaining privacy.
Not that he’d had much of a personal life lately.
Kneeling down, he scooped up a handful of sand, brought it in for closer inspection. The color was unusual: pale beige flecked with bits of white, green and black. He couldn’t have counted the number of grains even if he’d had the desire or the time. But he could count the number of times he’d walked along this beach with a woman.
“Zero,” he muttered to himself, as he stood up and angrily pitched the sand back into the Pacific.
Yet, he’d chosen to spend his nights alone.
His demanding schedule had made it nearly impossible to sustain a long-distance relationship with his former girlfriend in Miami, when he’d first moved to Bay Point six years ago. She’d complained that he was more devoted to his career than to her.
Yet even when the relationship was over, he had little interest in pursuing another one, despite the seductive looks he regularly received from local women. That was just asking for trouble in a town like Bay Point, which seemed to thrive on gossip, rumors and innuendos.
Anthony didn’t have time to fall in love—with any woman, let alone Liza Sinclair.
Lust, maybe. But love?
He brushed the sand from his shorts, dismissing the thought, and put his shirt back on.
Love was for men with nine-to-five careers, not for men like him. Building his clinic and serving his patients were all that mattered. Falling in love with Liza—or any woman for that matter—was not part of his plan.
Chapter 3
Liza eased her white pickup onto the gravel and braked in front of an abandoned motel. Judging by the broken windows, chipped plaster and the weed-choked parking lot, the Sunray Inn hadn’t had any travelers in years.
She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and carefully rubbed her eyes, so as to not disturb her mascara.
“Too bad this place isn’t still open,” she muttered under her breath. “I could use a few more hours of sleep. These morning meetings are killing me.”
The doors were covered in signs with faded red lettering warning would-be criminals and the curious that the structure was condemned and that trespassing would be punishable by law. The largest sign of all declared that the place was SOLD. As tired as she was, just seeing that one word energized her at the prospect of seeing the new owner.
Dr. Marbet had occupied her thoughts for the past few days. Some positive, some negative and some deliciously naughty, and yet, all were colored by the cold, hard, truth.
The design project wasn’t hers.
Not yet.
Liza scowled and leaned her chin on the steering wheel. Her fingers grazed her scar, reminding her it was there, and that she wasn’t perfect.
As if she needed a reminder at all.
She blew out a breath. Competition be damned.
Over a sleepless night or two, she had come to the conclusion that she would refuse to dwell on the negative. On the what-ifs. And on the fact that Dr. Marbet was more than just a figment of some 2 a.m. fantasy: he was the key to fulfilling her dreams.
Liza popped in a breath mint to remove the scent of her early-morning coffee, opened the door and stepped out of her vehicle.
“Ow!”
She looked down and saw that the heel of her high wedge sandals had hit a medium-sized rock. Ignoring the urge to kick the blasted thing away, she leaned her hip against her truck and bent at the waist to massage her throbbing ankle.
Moments later, she heard the squashy crunch of tires on gravel fast approaching.
A truck pulled up next to her, swirling a cloud of dust into her face. It was the same model as hers, but it was black and in better condition.
Straightening, she braced her hip against her vehicle and started to cough.
Dr. Marbet hopped out and circled around his vehicle. “I’m sorry about driving in so fast. I saw you examining your foot, and it looked like you were in trouble.”
Her heart warmed at the concern etched on his face, but just as quickly, she realized that was his job. He was a doctor. He was supposed to care.
“No big deal, Dr. Marbet,” she choked out, struggling not to cough again. “I’m just going to die from gravel dust inhalation.”
“No you won’t. I’ll take care of you.”
His smile seemed genuine and his hand gently patted her on the back, amplifying the butterflies that had begun to swirl inside at his soft touch. It was gentle, yet deliberate, and she chalked that up to his bedside manner automatically kicking in.
As if responding to the perfect antidote, her urge to cough ceased almost immediately. The pleasurable sensations he invoked spread quickly throughout her body.
Moments later, he lifted his hand. “If we are going to be possibly working together, can we kill the formalities?”
She nodded.
“I suppose I can manage that, Anthony.”
His name sounded so luscious as it tumbled out of her mouth that she momentarily forgot her injury.
“Ouch,” she exclaimed loudly as she took a step forward.
He knelt on one knee and visually inspected her ankle.
“What happened?”
She grimaced as embarrassment mingled with pleasure at the caring look in his warm, brown eyes.
“I think I might have twisted it getting out of the car.”
He balanced his elbow on one knee and kept his gaze on her.
“Clumsy much?” he asked, his tone playful.
“Lots much,” she admitted. “I guess I’m overdressed. I probably should have worn flats, but I assumed this location would be paved.”
“You look fine,” he said, casting his eyes up her body, clad in a soft floral-print dress that hit just above her knees.
Anthony kept his eyes on hers. “May I examine you?”
Despite having grown up in a family of physicians, she never liked going to one. However, she would make an exception for Anthony. This was a chance to be touched by one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen.
For medical purposes only, of course.
Her ankle didn’t even hurt that much anymore, but she decided to keep that little tidbit to herself.
She nodded her consent and held her breath.
“Tell me if any of this hurts,” he instructed, before looking down at her ankle.
Anthony began to palpate her flesh, and she bit her lip as her loins began to quiver with every gentle touch. She could feel the low heat emanating from his palms and wondered what he would do to treat her if she fainted right on the spot.
The pads of his thumbs pressed and circled over her skin, little ripples of wonder that journeyed up through her body. She knew she shouldn’t be feeling this way. The man was a physician, and he was only doing his job, but she couldn’t help it. His fingers were skilled and felt so good that she didn’t want him to stop.
Anthony tilted his head up. “Any pain?”
Liza shook her head. “I think you massaged it all out of me.”
He slowly removed his hands from her ankle.
“See if you can rotate it comfortably.”
She did as he asked, and though there was a tinge of pain, she’d survive.
“I’m okay now, thanks.”
He stood up and dusted a few pieces of gravel from his dark blue slacks. As he did, she watched his muscled arms flex under his light gray T-shirt.
“Great taste,” she said.
Anthony looked down at his pants. “What? You mean these?”
“No, not in clothes,” she said. “In cars. You have great taste in vehicles.”
Puzzlement crossed his face, and she half covered her mouth, realizing that she’d just insulted him.
“Not to say that you don’t have good taste in clothes, too,” she said, trying to recover. “It’s just weird to see you in normal clothes, and not just a lab coat.”
He crossed his arms in a way that made her heart skip a beat. His biceps nestled against his sides in that casually sexy way that only some men could achieve.
“What’s so strange about it? I’m a regular guy who wears regular clothes,” he said, sounding off-put.
“I’m sorry. My dad and uncle were physicians, and I saw them so much in their hospital scrubs that whenever they didn’t have that stuff on, it always surprised me.”
He grinned, lowering his voice. “I guess I’m not used to having someone notice.”
The man had to be joking, she thought. Who wouldn’t notice a body like his?
Their eyes met, and a sudden spark was there. It was indefinable, yet she could feel it and knew he was aware of it, too. She made a show of brushing her hands together as if she could simply rid herself of what she’d just experienced between them.
“There’s a first time for everything.”
He laughed. “No kidding. I wasn’t expecting you to drive a truck.”
She put one hand on her hip. Now, who was insulting whom?
“Women can’t drive trucks?”
“Hold on. I never said that. But you should be wearing jeans or maybe a cowboy hat. Not a sundress and heels.”
Liza stared at him, openmouthed. “I know I’m dressed a bit formally, but I’m here for a meeting, not a hoedown.”
He laughed again, and she couldn’t help but smile, feeling exasperated and pleased.
“Actually, when I drove up and saw your truck, my first thought was that someone was trying to break in.”
She took a quick glance behind her and shivered. “Into this old place? It looks like the Bates Motel. Besides, do I look like a burglar to you?”
Anthony leaned against his own vehicle, an easygoing quality in his stance.
“No. Not at all.” He grinned, regarding her. Not in an offensive way but rather curiously. More appreciative of...what? she wondered. Something. It was the unknown that made her blush.
She cleared her throat and carefully picked her way over the gravel, being mindful of reinjuring her ankle.
“I’m surprised anybody would know this place is here. It’s near the highway but still pretty secluded. I even drove past it a couple of times.”
He joined her on the cracked sidewalk that led to the motel’s office. “I know. But the sale was listed in a few local papers several weeks ago. Ever since, there have been some issues. A few more broken windows to christen the ones already here.”
“The location will certainly give your patients plenty of privacy, that’s for sure.”
She pointed to the long entranceway. “Those trees lining the private road in here must be sixty feet tall!”
“Yes, I’ve been advised to get rid of them, but I never will. Privacy aside, those trees are home to hundreds of birds.”
“The property is still zoned commercial, I assume?”
He nodded. “Absolutely. I checked with City Hall before I purchased it, and we’re good to go there. Of course, once I decide on the final design, we’ll have to submit it to the commercial zoning board for approval.”
“And there will be construction and other permits to secure as well. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything,” she replied confidently, as if she already had the job.
Anthony glanced down at her ankle again. “If you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“I’m fine. I just need to grab something from my truck.”
Liza walked back to her vehicle, ignoring the whisper of pain in her ankle, and retrieved her camera. Taking pictures of the existing property would help her get a sense of scale, although she wished the motel were already torn down. It would have made visualizing another building in its place a lot easier.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Due to his long legs, Anthony edged out a bit ahead of her. He slipped his hands into his front pockets, stretching the fabric of his pants over his tight buttocks.
“As you can see, the property has been vacant for a while,” Anthony explained. “Once you get past the trees, it doesn’t look like much from the front. But I bought this place fairly inexpensively, considering that the value is in the land.”
Liza caught up to him. “From what I’ve heard, there’s been more and more outside interest in building in Bay Point since Mayor Langston instituted his redevelopment plan.”
“Yes, and I was lucky to get the property when I did.”
Liza breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear that if this project doesn’t work out and you decide to go with someone else, the opportunities for commercial architecture and design projects are plentiful. It’s one of the reasons I moved to Bay Point.”
He pinne
d his gaze on her. “And the other reasons?”
She paused and turned away to fight back the tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes.
There was no way she was getting into the details of how the grief over losing her mom, and then her dad, had made life in Denver almost unbearable.
Liza turned back abruptly and forced a smile. “Sun, surf and a fresh start, what else?”
Plus the chance to work with a very hot man, she thought. An unexpected bonus.
Anthony grinned, seeming to be satisfied with her answer. “Keep that pretty smile on your face because you’re about to see something amazing.”
She followed him under an arch that connected one side of the motel with the other. Looking overhead, she could see the stucco was cracked in many places, weeds poking through like disembodied roots in some dank underground cave.
When they emerged, she gasped aloud.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Ahead of them was a clear view of the Pacific Ocean. Miles and miles of blue, hauntingly still water, framed by the orange glow of the sun rising in a clear sky.
“Amazing,” she said, inhaling quietly but deeply. The salty scent of the air was both delicate and mysterious, like a secret that would never be revealed.
Liza tore her attention away from the ocean and focused on Anthony. She had to fight the urge to pick up her digital camera and snap a photo of him.
With his powerful arms outstretched and the sun glowing behind him, he looked like he could be on the cover of one of those money or entrepreneurial magazines. The guy who’d captured the world and held it in the palm of his hand. A man who’d made it, and made it big.
Liza smiled. And it would be she, not some bureaucratic architectural firm that moved like a sloth and charged a king’s ransom for its services, that would push him to even greater heights.
Without warning, a quick fantasy of him in the same position but completely nude skittered through her mind. The sun glinting off his black hair, his arms outstretched, the lower half of him stirring to life right before her very eyes.
“I’d say the view is priceless,” she murmured.
He motioned her forward, and the fantasy ended. She followed him to the edge of the weed-choked patio.
Winning the Doctor Page 3