Treat her Right: A New Zealand Sexy Beach Romance (Treats to Tempt You Book 2)

by Serenity Woods

  Maisey knew she must be scarlet by now. If she didn’t confess, he might end up diagnosing her with the Black Death or something. “It’s okay,” she admitted, “I don’t have a fever. Not from an infection, anyway. I’ve just realized I’m with the sexiest doctor in the whole of New Zealand, and I’m not wearing a shirt.”

  His gaze dropped briefly to the shirt pressed against her breasts, then rose to meet hers. Amusement fought with professional courtesy. Professional courtesy won, to her disappointment. “Ah, sorry about that. Here, let me help you.” Averting his gaze politely to the side, he took the shirt and held it up.

  Maisey slid in her bad arm, and he lifted the shirt up, but he had to put his arm around her to pull the shirt over her shoulders, bringing him closer than he’d obviously meant. He did it swiftly, but he must have got an eyeful in the process. Thank God she’d worn her best and cleanest bra, and not the grey one with the overstretched elastic. Or perhaps she would have been better off in the grey one. Her breasts were propped up and on display in the demi-cups, outlined with lace. They almost screamed Look at me! Look at how yummy we are! Jeez.

  She tried to lift her arm to get her other hand in the shirt sleeve, but the movement hurt. Still pointedly looking to one side, he dropped the shirt and she twisted a little, but only succeeded in giving herself a shooting pain in the shoulder. “Ouch!”

  “Sorry.” He sighed and finally glanced down to get the armhole in the right position. Maisey maneuvered herself into the shirt, hoping desperately the bra cups had managed to cope with the heavy load and there wasn’t any nipple on show.

  Joss lifted the shirt onto her shoulders, drew the sides together, paused for a moment, then lowered his head and rested his lips on her hair. She was sure she could hear him counting to ten under his breath.

  “Are you okay?” Her face was buried in his crisp white shirt, and he smelled of aftershave and warm male, so amazing she nearly fainted as all the blood rushed from her brain.

  “Yes.” He pulled back and began to do up the buttons.

  Maisey held her breath as his fingers moved down. The room was warm, and where her eyes were level with his collar, she saw his skin glistening where he’d loosened his tie and undone the top button of his shirt. There were a hundred things she wanted to say, a hundred more she wanted to do. But she couldn’t be certain of his reaction, and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself.

  When he’d done, he lifted his gaze to meet hers again. He cleared his throat. “You be good now. No going back to work. You need rest and a few days at home.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. He’d shaved that morning, and his jaw was free of stubble. If she were to rub her cheek against his, it would feel smooth, his skin gliding against hers. His lips were narrow without being thin, firm without being hard. He’d been out with lots of girls while they were growing up, and several had confided to her what a good kisser he was. He had the casual sexiness that spoke of a man confident in the bedroom. She’d had a few boyfriends, but they’d mainly been nerdy types with little more experience than she had. She’d never been brave enough to go out with a guy like this.

  Suddenly, more than anything, she wanted him to kiss her. Did he feel the same way? She needed to know. Her brain urged caution, but as usual her heart yelled life was too short to be subtle.

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Joss… When you were at the shop…”

  His lips curved slowly, reluctantly. “Yes?”

  “Were you really thinking of truffles?” Her eyes lifted to his.

  His fingers rose to touch her hot skin. He hesitated, then, to her delight, his hand slid around to cup her cheek. “No, Maisey, much as I like chocolate, I wasn’t thinking about truffles.”

  The world seemed to stop spinning. His eyes were intense, his lids lowering as he considered her mouth. For a long, long moment, she really thought he was going to kiss her.

  Then, although he didn’t pull back, some of the intensity vanished, and his thumb brushed her cheek. “I’m sorry, Maisey.”

  “Don’t apologize,” she said. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  He chuckled. “Kole would kill me if he could see me.”

  “Kole’s not here.”

  He stroked her cheek again. She could almost see his head fighting with his heart. “I’m not looking for a relationship,” he said carefully.

  “I’m not offering one,” she murmured back. “That’s the last thing on my mind.” She gave him what she hoped was an impish smile. “We’re going to have a party at Treats. We’ll charge for entry, and half the proceeds will go to charity. Kole’s agreed to take fun and sexy photos of everyone for the shop. Say you’ll come.” It was only a little lie—if Kole knew Joss had agreed, he’d almost certainly say yes to taking the photos.

  Joss gave her a slightly exasperated look, and then he smiled. “Okay. Yes, I’ll come.”

  His phrase gave her goose bumps. Yes, I’ll come. Ooh.

  Now his lips broadened to real, amused smile. “Your pupils have dilated to the size of dinner plates. Maisey Graham, your middle name must be Naughty.”

  “It used to be yours,” she said breathlessly. At last, the old Joss was shining through the new respectable one, like the original paint on a re-sprayed car.

  “I thought you said the shop was a vanilla-free zone,” he teased, leaning forward and inhaling as he brushed his nose along her hairline. “You smell of vanilla.”

  “We still use it as a flavoring.” Her voice was little more than a whisper on his jaw, and as he turned his head, his breath warmed her lips.

  “We shouldn’t,” Joss murmured.

  “Meh. Coulda, shoulda, woulda, Dr. Heaven.” She lowered her lids and tipped her head to the side. “Come play with me, Joss.”

  He gave a wry laugh and lowered his head, and she lifted hers a tiny bit, and then his lips brushed hers with the lightest, most erotic kiss she’d ever experienced.

  A knock at the door made him snap his head up as if she’d slapped him. He turned away and walked over to the computer, letting a few seconds pass before he called, “Come in.”

  The door opened behind him, and the nurse appeared and said, “Here’s the wrist support you asked for, Dr. Heaven.”

  “Thank you. Can you fit it for Maisey, please? I have to go.” He picked up his briefcase, and without waiting for a reply, walked out of the room.

  Chapter Six

  Maisey sat sulkily in the corner of the shop and glared out of the window. Tasha, Elle, and Caitlin had refused to let her work that afternoon. True, she couldn’t make the chocolates, operate the coffee machine, or scoop ice cream into cones, and even waiting tables had been out of the question as it took too long with one hand. So instead she’d supervised, tallied, checked supplies, and generally got under their feet until they yelled at her to go away.

  Unable to think of anything else to do, she’d retired to a table in the corner with a pad and paper, and started drafting some ideas for the party, scrawling with her left hand. Eventually, though, tired and achy, she sat back in the seat and admitted maybe Joss had been right, and she should have gone home and put her feet up for a few days.

  She couldn’t bring herself to do that, though, with the fate of the shop hanging by a thread. She hadn’t told Kole the full story. The overheads had been more than they’d thought, and business had been slower than they’d expected. The first few weeks of January hadn’t been bad, but February had been slower, in spite of it being both the height of the tourist season and Valentine’s Day. Predicting how long they had left until they were forced to shut wasn’t easy, but her best guess was six months. And it could be even less, if they didn’t do something drastic soon.

  The disappointment she felt every time she looked at the figures was sharp enough to cause a pain in her chest almost as bad as the one in her wrist. Nobody could say they hadn’t worked their socks off to make this work. All four girls had given a hundred-and-ten percent to
Treats. They’d all gone to uni and taken various courses in food preparation, hospitality management, and baking and pastry arts, and they were all qualified baristas. They’d taken accountancy and book-keeping courses, and read a thousand books on running your own business. And they’d done everything right, taking no short cuts, and cutting no corners. All four of them were committed. But in a recession, the first things to go are life’s little luxuries. They were paying themselves barely enough to cover their rents and necessities, but in spite of that, they were only just breaking even.

  Exposure was the key. They’d campaigned hard for the site on the waterfront—Tasha had even taken on a bet to win the shop from Kole, although Maisey suspected her best friend’s subconscious had desired more than the shop when she’d agreed to the wager. But although the site was in prime position, it was also expensive. And Mangonui itself lay off the main State Highway, so even though it was a popular tourist destination, traffic didn’t actually pass them en route to other towns.

  Maisey and Tasha had travelled around the North Island looking at other specialist food shops to see how they did business. Greater exposure involved advertising, product placement, and being interviewed for local papers, all of which they were trying to achieve. But word of mouth was by far the best advertising. And news of Treats was spreading, but not fast enough. They needed customers now, not in six months’ time.

  She looked at the piece of paper. At the top, she’d written the word “Exposure” and ringed it several times. Unfortunately, it made her think of Joss without any clothes. If he thought she’d missed the return of his erection when he kissed her in his surgery, he was wrong. The bulge in his pants had been quite obvious before he’d turned away and scurried from the room as if they were fourteen year olds caught smooching behind the bike sheds.

  The thought warmed her right through like neat brandy, but it also made her sad. He was a red-blooded male who, from what she’d heard, hadn’t been out with a girl for a while. Of course he’d react to a chick sitting there practically naked and begging to be kissed. It would have been weird if he hadn’t been turned on. And yet, a small part of her hoped it wasn’t because she’d been in the right place at the right time. Like an unsightly blemish, he’d covered it up and tried to pretend it wasn’t there, but he’d wanted her—she’d seen it in his eyes, felt it in the sensual way he’d kissed her. Such a brief kiss, but it had said a thousand things. It was as if she’d presented him with a chocolate truffle. He could have crammed the whole lot into his mouth in one go, or he could have bitten it in half without thinking, or he could have given it a tiny lick, but he’d done none of those things. He’d done the equivalent of sinking his teeth carefully into it, then letting the chocolate melt on his tongue and slide down his throat as he savored the taste.

  Maisey shifted uncomfortably in the chair. She should really stop thinking like this, or every time she even looked at a truffle she was going to have an orgasm.

  The bell over the door jangled, and she glanced across, then stared, thinking she must have conjured him up. Joss hesitated in the doorway, and Maisey caught her breath, unprepared for the effect he had on her. He’d donned the jacket of his navy suit, and he looked suave and sophisticated, with a touch of bad boy in his ruffled dark hair and the hint of a five o’clock shadow on his jaw. The fact he was a doctor was like a splash of brandy in the truffle.

  And now she was back to chocolate and sex. She closed her eyes. For fuck’s sake, Maisey…

  “What are you doing here?”

  She opened her eyes again to see him standing in front of her, hands on his hips. He looked a seductive mixture of cross and amused.

  “Riding a bike,” she said, hoping there wasn’t drool on her chin.

  He tipped his head to the side. “I told you to take a few days off.”

  “They need me here,” she protested.

  “No, we don’t!” the girls chorused.

  Joss smirked. “Go home.”

  “Can’t,” she said. “Can’t drive. And Kole’s at work until late tonight. I’ll have to wait until Tasha’s done.”

  He glanced over to where Tasha stood behind the coffee machine. She held up a takeaway cup toward him and gestured, and he nodded. “After that,” he said, “can you run Maisey home?”

  She shook her head. “This is our busiest time. And we need all three of us because she’s such a clumsy idiot. Can you run her home?”

  He looked back at Maisey and hesitated.

  Maisey smiled. “It’s okay, I’m fine here. It’ll only be a couple of hours, and I can do some paperwork until then.”

  Joss sighed. “No, you need to get home. You’re pale and in pain, I can tell. Have you taken your painkillers?”

  “Well, Kole had to get back to work, and I haven’t had time to pick them up yet, so…”

  “Maisey!”

  “Yes, Dad?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Come on, get your stuff. I’ll take you home. But I have a couple of errands to do on the way.”

  Grumbling, she started to pack her things away while he paid for his coffee. She wasn’t sure how she felt about being closeted in a car with him. He’d nearly kissed her, then walked out without saying anything. Did he wish it hadn’t happened? Or did he wish it had gone further? She felt embarrassed, nervous, and a tiny bit excited.

  Joss collected his coffee, she said goodbye to the others, and they left the shop. Joss steered her carefully in the direction of the chemist and stood with her while the pharmacist made up her prescription.

  “You’ll take two now,” Joss told her while they waited, “and two more before you go to bed.”

  “Yes, doctor.”

  He laughed, moving out of the way as a couple of customers approached the till. Maisey found herself squished in the corner between the counter and the wall, with Joss pressed up against her.

  “Sorry,” he said, looking anything but.

  She was wearing Converses, and he towered over her. She had to crane her neck to meet his eyes.

  “Are you looking down my shirt?” She attempted levity to cover the way her heart raced.

  He chuckled. “Of course not. That would be terribly unprofessional.” His eyes were warm, though.

  Once again, the subtle smell of his aftershave washed over her, stirring her senses. His pulse beat in his neck; his body was warm through his shirt.

  She wanted to talk to him about what had happened in the surgery. Obviously there was the chance she might embarrass herself, but she’d long since accepted that was the status quo for her, and she’d stopped worrying about it.

  “About earlier,” she said.

  “What about it?”

  “I wanted to say sorry,” she murmured.

  His eyebrows rose. “Really?”

  “Not for the kiss, I have to add. I’m sorry we were interrupted.”

  He smiled. “It was rather…timely.”

  “I would have said unfortunate.”

  He sighed. “No, it wasn’t. I can’t believe I let myself do that, and in my office as well.” He looked horrified. “What if the nurse had walked in without waiting?”

  “I think she would have got in line,” Maisey said. At his blank look, she added, “Oh come on, Joss. You must know all the women in that surgery are crazy about you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “If they’re not, there’s something wrong with them.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “And you love me for it.”

  “Crazy Maisey,” he said affectionately. “You never change.”

  He studied her for a moment, a slight frown on his brow, and she wondered if he was thinking about the antidepressants. He’d thought she was like a dandelion clock, light and insubstantial. Which she was—she’d happily accept that, and indeed she cultivated that persona, wanting to squeeze every drop out of the juice bag of life and not waste time with what ifs and maybes. But the antidepressants proved she
did have roots, and that they went deeper than most people thought, anchoring her to the ground in a way he would not have realized before.

  She didn’t want him to think of her as deep and serious. That wasn’t what the Loosen Joss Up Plan was about. She wanted to know whether the old Joss was still there, and if he was, let him out to play for a while. Nothing more than that.

  “Prescription for Miss Graham?”

  Joss turned, and Maisey sighed and went over to the counter. She collected the pills, and they went out into the sunshine.

  “Wait here,” Joss said. He went into the nearby store and emerged a minute later with a small bottle of water. After unscrewing the top, he passed it to her, took the bottle of pills out the paper bag, and tipped two onto his hand. He held them out to her. “Go on.”

  Half-irritated at his bossiness, half-touched at his concern, she took the pills and swallowed them. Then she opened her mouth and showed him. “There. And I haven’t cheeked them or anything.”

  “You’ve been watching too many thriller movies,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get a move on.”

  Chapter Seven

  Satisfied Maisey had finally taken her pills, Joss led the way back to where he’d parked his car.

  “Where are we going?” Maisey trotted along beside him. She had a bit more color now. She’d looked incredibly pale when he walked into the shop, and she’d obviously been in pain. He was annoyed with Kole for dropping her at the shop rather than taking her home. He’d have a word with him about that.

  He took a mouthful of coffee and unlocked the car. “I need to pick up one of my nephews and drop him off at the swimming pool for his lesson at five thirty. Then I’ll take you home. Is that okay?”

  “Of course.” She opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. He got into the driver’s seat, slotted his coffee into the cup holder, and started the engine.

  Maisey tugged on the seatbelt and immediately winced. “Ouch! For God’s sake. I keep forgetting about my wrist.” She pulled the belt with her left hand, but couldn’t extend it long enough to plug it in.