Curing Doctor Vincent (The Good Doctor Trilogy Book 1)

by Mason, Renea

  Surely, Marco could give me this moment before running me ragged all over Paris. I strode to the door with a complaint on my lips, only to have it slip away along with my breath. It wasn’t Marco.

  Xavier stood, head bowed, hands braced on the doorframe in a full tuxedo. It was easy to forget just how powerful he was, but seeing him like this left no doubt. The world sought his attention. The vision in my doorway was that of the most revered man in the world. After gathering my wits, and clearing my parched throat, I managed to squeak out. “Yes, Doctor. Is there something you need?”

  “No.” He continued to look at the floor.

  “I’m sorry?”

  He looked up. “It’s not something I need. It’s something I want.”

  I swallowed hard. All the visions of the afternoon rushed back. His lips. His taste. His trust. They quickly morphed into a fantasy of him untying my robe and throwing me on the bed.

  “I want you…” He inhaled and held his breath.

  My heart thudded in my chest.

  He continued, “To accompany me to my speaking engagement.”

  The invitation held promise but killed my fantasy. I did my best to hide my disappointment.

  “Tonight?”

  He righted himself and reached over and repositioned my robe over my nearly exposed breast. “Yes.”

  I would have given anything to read his mind. His responses were slow, deliberate.

  “Sure. When should I be ready?”

  He pulled back his sleeve and glanced at his watch. “In about an hour. Is that OK?”

  “Sure, but Marco is going to be disappointed. He was looking forward to a night on the town.”

  “I’ll break the news to him. I want you with me tonight.” The intense stare returned.

  “OK. “

  “Oh and Elaine… The place will be crawling with media personnel. There will be a lot of questions, have no doubt. I’ll do the talking, if you don’t mind.”

  I hoped the reluctance in my voice didn’t give the wrong impression. I was thrilled and terrified in equal measure. “Sure. Is this about my father?”

  His eyes widened. “Oh…no. That’s not the issue. It’s just the last time I appeared in public with someone, things got out of hand.”

  “Oh, OK.” The relief was hard to hide. I didn’t want my father causing yet another problem for me.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep cleansing breath. “I just want to make certain you understand what I’m asking. Until now…this moment…it can all disappear. No one will ever know that you were at my house. And you can walk away with no ties, no connection to all that we’ve done…and have yet to do. This changes our arrangement. There will be no denying our association. Although the details will remain our fond secret.”

  He reached down and picked up a bag at his feet. “Since you weren’t expecting to be going to a formal occasion tonight…”

  I was going to be Xavier Vincent’s date. The only thing that could pull me from all possibilities the night held was the feel of his finger as he rested the bag’s handles in my outstretched palm.

  He closed my fingers around the satin cords and stepped in closer. “Are you sure? When this is all behind you and you are sitting in the conference room are you going to be comfortable explaining that it wasn’t what they thought? Knowing that when you board that plane back to America, we go back to the way we were.”

  Disappointment killed my anticipation. I took a breath and swallowed my frustration. I’d treat it like a job, diligently plugging away and taking risks in hopes of a bigger pay off. There was something undeniable between us. But he needed to understand I wasn’t fragile.

  “Yes, Doctor. I’m fully capable of pretending to be your date, of enjoying this week, and then never seeing you again. You’re not that irresistible.” Yes, he was, but he didn’t need to know it.

  “Fair enough…” He paused. Cleared his throat and turned. As he walked away he muttered, “See you in an hour.”

  I closed the door. Not a moment to spare, but my mind raced. He had a point. It was one thing to have his attention when it came to sex, but this was something else. In a way, I was flattered that he wanted to be with me. There were few women who would turn down his offer, but there was a big difference between fancying a romp with someone and wanting to be seen with them in public. Hell, since this was a speaking engagement, there would be photographic evidence. I didn’t want to be so excited, but I shivered from anticipation. I knew the chances of this living up to my expectations were minimal, but there was always hope. After all, he was the one who’d pointed out that I’d suffered enough to deserve it.

  ****

  After putting the finishing touches of makeup on, I had one final task—zipping the damn dress. A knock on the door startled me, but it could be serendipity if the knocker had two hands.

  I turned the handle expecting to lay eyes on the doctor, but it was Marco and he was stunning. Black, slicked back hair, tuxedo and a mischievous grin.

  “Hi beautiful, I stopped by to see if you are about ready.”

  The sleeve of the black, shimmery gown slipped and I pushed it back into place.

  “I thought you’d still be headed out.” The sleeve fell again.

  “I asked X if I could tag along since you might need the company while he hobnobs.” This time he caught the stubborn garment. “Turn around. Let me zip you up.”

  I did as he asked, thankful for his help.

  “I need to tell you a few things.” He pulled the zipper, running a finger along my spine, causing me to shiver. “Here let me warm you up.” He wrapped his arms around me and whispered in my ear, “You’re going to meet Roxanne tonight.”

  “Who?”

  “Um… She’s X’s last love interest.”

  I tried to turn but his arms held me in place. “Stay here. If he knew I was telling you this, he’d kill me.”

  “I thought there hadn’t been anyone since Lydia.” I relaxed knowing that trying to force my way out of his embrace would be a waste of energy.

  “Yes, well. That is true. Remember when he said he pretended to date someone to shut Sebastian and me up? That was Roxanne. But he got tired of answering questions. Roxanne works in a prominent role as a fundraiser for the Cancer Society. She’s beautiful, but vicious.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “She was in love with X. Let me rephrase that… She was in love with the idea of him, but she didn’t know him. He kept her at arm’s length. She finally got tired of not getting anything but superficial public invitations and called it off.”

  “So this is what he does…” I couldn’t hide my disappointment.

  “Bella, no. Not with you. You are different. He trusts you. And unlike her, you love him as a man, not as an icon. “

  “I do not love him. I find him fascinating.”

  “Call it whatever you wish, I know what I see.”

  I sighed. Lying to him wasn’t fair, denial was my burden. “No, you’re right. It just seems pathetic to fall in love with someone so fast.”

  “Well, if it is pathetic, you’re not alone. And Roxanne isn’t going to be pleased. I didn’t want you to be caught off guard. And the other thing…”

  “I don’t know if I can handle anything else.”

  “He has a reputation that I… may have perpetuated for him…but long before you.”

  “What kind of reputation?”

  “Let’s say… You’d never know that he spends his nights alone. He’s considered one of the most eligible bachelors of the country. So expect others to be vying for his attention.”

  “Oh great.”

  He squeezed me a little tighter. “But remember, he didn’t invite them. He invited you.”

  He placed his lips on my cheek and whispered, “He has excellent taste.”

  “Can I be honest with you?”

  He turned me in his arms, allowing me to gaze into his deep brown eyes. So gorgeous. Like a work of art. “Bella, you can tell m
e anything. I know that our meeting wasn’t typical, but unlike Xavier, who is fighting an internal battle with his past and his desire, I’m not. If you want to keep in touch after this week, I’d be honored. But if you’d rather move on, I understand.”

  “Marco, that’s the thing. I have very typical reactions in an atypical situation. I honestly don’t know what I want. Is it even possible for him to love me? Would I be willing to love him if I could only have part of him? I so want to help him. Allow him to know true intimacy without reliving his past. But no one is ever successful at changing another person. If Lydia was an expert, and couldn’t do it…”

  He reached up and stroked my cheek. “Couldn’t or wouldn’t? I may not have known Lydia well, but it was obvious she adored X, much like a collector enjoys their prize artifact. She, like Roxanne, was in love with the idea of him. She was older and emotionally detached. She supported his career, but they led very different lives. I often wondered if she didn’t perpetuate the problem. Then I watch you two. There is something between the two of you that wasn’t there with Lydia.”

  “Lust.”

  “No.” He thrust his hips forward, rubbing his rock hard cock against me. “No. This is lust. I have to admit X is a brilliant director and you are a most talented leading lady. It’s wonderful, but that’s not what you and X feel. When you kissed him today, it was loving and tender. You are the first woman I’ve seen that really wants to see him as a man and not a celebrity. That’s the only thing that can save him.”

  “I just hope he wants to be saved.”

  “Every man does but will rarely admit it.” He kissed me on the cheek. “Let’s get you to your chariot, M’lady. Your king awaits.”

  Chapter Nine

  Revelation

  The large stone building resembled a concert hall or opera house. Members of the media held cameras and protesters held signs, handwritten in French.

  The amount of frenzy outside the hall was more than I expected. “What is the topic of the event?”

  The doctor looked out the window. “It’s a cancer research fundraiser.”

  He shifted so that his leg rested against mine. The electricity between us continued to grow. I was slowly becoming consumed by his every touch. It was not good. These feelings could never lead to anything productive. I tried to focus on something else. “What are they angry about?”

  Marco leaned forward and looked out the window. “Oh, they are the animal rights activists. Even though Western has the most ethical and humane laboratory practices, many would love to see humans replace the guinea pigs. I can admire their conviction. Even if their tactics are sometimes tiresome.”

  The car parked and Marco exited, followed by the doctor. When he emerged, people applauded and cheered and blinding camera flashes filled the car. He offered me his hand, steadying me as I stepped from the car onto the sidewalk. The cameras continued to flash as the doctor laced his fingers between mine.

  I leaned in to whisper to him, but he raised our joined hands to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on the back of my hand—the gesture was so normal…familiar…loving…and public, that it silenced any thought I had.

  A photographer turned to the rowdy crowd of protesters screaming various chants in French beyond a barricade of police. One emphatic woman stood out. Her haggard features and tattered clothes added to her intensity. From her mouth flowed in plain, American-accented English, “Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!” Anger and hate lined the woman’s face as she struggled against the officer holding her back.

  I whispered, “What is that about?”

  He squeezed my hand gently, but said nothing as we made our way through the entrance.

  The grand lobby of the hall seemed to swallow us. The huge, ornate columns and marble floors spoke of France’s history. Gold leaf cherubs held plaster banners that framed the ceiling. I tried my hardest not to look like a tourist, but the place was breathtaking. A band played in one corner of the large space. Waiters dressed in tuxedos served drinks on golden platters, making their paths between the guests and the large mahogany bar, which sat opposite the auditorium doors.

  Another kiss to the back of my hand. “Beautiful.” His lips lingered on my skin.

  I glanced around the room one more time before facing the doctor to answer. “Yes. It’s gorgeous.”

  He pulled me closer, wrapping his arm around my waist. “I wasn’t talking about the room. I was talking about you.”

  This was more contact than I had been allowed to have with him previously. Butterflies filled my stomach, not because of his touch, but rather the way he looked at me. It was different. There was hunger, just like always, but something beyond that—something I could easily drown in.

  The moment was cut short by the arrival of a taller, gorgeous woman with angled features upstaged only by her ample bosom accented by an extremely low cut neckline. The black material hugged every curve of her body. But I could feel the tension inside me tighten when she grabbed Xavier’s other hand and purred, “X, it’s been too long.”

  She leaned in and kissed him on one cheek and then the other, pushing me out of the way to do so. The doctor shot me an apologetic glance.

  “Roxanne… So nice to see you.”

  Roxanne? Son of a bitch. This was my competition. The only woman he dared to date since Lydia.

  She grabbed his hand and pulled him to her and tucked his arm in hers. He released my hand. Another glance.

  She turned to me and said, “Please, excuse us, Xavier has some unfinished business he needs to attend to.”

  She pulled him into the crowd, leaving me standing alone. Marco was nowhere to be found. I don’t know what I’d been expecting. A fairy tale, maybe. Fucking hope.

  The bar wasn’t far away, so I weaved and excused my way through the horde of guests. I grabbed a glass of champagne and scanned the crowd for Marco.

  A few more steps and I stopped. Near the band was a dance floor. Twenty or so couples swayed to the music—many of them quite experienced. In the center, with his arms around her waist and her fingers twirling his hair, danced Xavier and Roxanne. Groin to groin they moved with the music. If it had been anyone but Xavier, I would have admired the sensual nature of the dance, but instead, my blood boiled.

  Had he been lying to me? Was this all a sick game? Had he known she would be here? Fuck hope and fuck champagne. I turned away from the scene and set a path for the bar stool.

  I grabbed the hem of my dress, holding it in place as I slid onto the high leather seat. The bartender approached me, but everything he said was in French. So I held up two fingers in the form of a ‘C’ about the size of a shot glass and mimed the motions of tossing back a shot. He got the picture. He placed a glass in front of me and pointed to the array of liquors behind him. I didn’t care. It just needed to act fast, because this was not the night I imagined. I pointed to an amber colored liquid. He poured it for me. Brandy. It would have to do. I kicked it back and allowed the burn to leach through me as I inhaled deeply. He held up the bottle and pointed to the glass. I nodded.

  He filled the glass and I wasted no time. As the second shot left that delightful warmth in my belly, Marco approached.

  “What are you doing? A beautiful woman should never drink alone. Besides, that’s not even the good stuff.” He took a seat beside me.

  “So where have you been?”

  He placed his lips to my ear. “Better question is… Why aren’t you with X?”

  I sliced my head toward the dance floor.

  “Dear God, she is here. I hoped I was wrong but… What is she up to?”

  “Humping the doctor apparently.”

  He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about from Roxanne.”

  Just then the two of them completed a move so suggestive, that it looked as though they might have sex any minute.

  I shot Marco a disbelieving look.

  He turned, raised his hand and French words flowed from his lips. Soon my sho
t glass was filled and he held up his own. “Bottoms up.”

  We simultaneously downed them; we even wiped our mouths on our forearm at the same time and inhaled deeply in perfect synchronization.

  “Just relax.” He patted my knee.

  “Why am I even here? You could be introducing me to Paris’s dive bars.”

  He laughed. “You’re exactly where you need to be.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” Xavier dipped Roxanne. Something tightened in my chest. It was hard to determine if it was all the alcohol or hope shattering from the inside out.

  “He doesn’t love her. She was a publicity stunt. You are the one he invited.”

  “Great. I can add publicity stunt, along with prostitute and Celtic Queen to my resume.”

  “Stop it. You are not Roxanne. He didn’t bring you here to satisfy the media.”

  The doctor nuzzled Roxanne’s neck. “I can’t watch this anymore.”

  “You know that he’s in love with you, right?”

  I slapped him on the arm. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny. It’s just sex.”

  “He’d be a fool not to be.” He brushed a strand of my hair off my shoulder and his finger left a trail of heat. Marco was such a beautiful man and an excellent lover. My mind wanted to drown in the alcohol and my body wanted to drown in Marco. It was a dangerous combination.

  “You want to leave?”

  He grabbed my arm. “No, Elaine. I’m serious. You were all he talked about since the first time he saw you two years ago. He sought you out. He’s different with you. Different than he was with Lydia. The way he looks at you—”

  “But it doesn’t matter.”

  “It does because you love him.”

  “It won’t matter on Sunday.” I sighed.

  Fingers long, rough and masculine slid between mine. It wasn’t Marco as his hands were visible on the bar. Another hand snaked around my waist and hot breath hit my neck. “I’m so sorry. I had a few loose ends to tie up.”