Doctor L: A Second Chance Fake Marriage Romance (Doctor's Orders Book 3)

by Lilian Monroe

  My knees feel weak, and an empty, gnawing feeling grows in the pit of my stomach. I know what it is: it’s raw, unbridled desire. I can feel the blood rushing between my legs and the heat rising in my cheeks.

  “Thanks,” I croak, struggling to find my voice. I glance back up at him and his eyes are still trained on me, studying me. “I’m Emma.”

  “Doctor Davis,” he responds curtly. He nods to the machine. “You done?”

  “I.. uh. Yeah,” No. “Go ahead.” I shuffle out of the way as he steps towards me, one eyebrow raised expectantly. Rude. Typical arrogant surgeon.

  I step aside and he puts his mug under a spout. My eyes drift over his arms, his chest, up his neck to his stubbly chin. He’s handsome, and obviously strong. I need to stop staring. I clear my throat, trying to think of something to say.

  “I’m new here, I work the reception.”

  He glances over at me without responding, and then looks back to his cup. The machine is rumbling to life, spurting out some coffee into his mug. He says nothing, and keeps his eyes on his coffee. What an ass! I’m just trying to make casual conversation, the least he could do is make small talk.

  I roll my eyes and lean on the cupboard, looking towards the door. He finishes with the machine and steps aside. I glance over at him and then look away again, staring at the machine in front of me. My heart is beating fast and my cheeks feel flushed. I’m trying not to think about the curve of his chest, or the way his eyes raked along my body sending an electric thrill through me.

  I take one of the coffee pods from the basket next to the machine and clutch it between my fingers. I put the mug underneath a spout and… shit. I should have watched what he was doing instead of staring at his muscles.

  I poke one of the buttons at random. With a high-pitched whistle, a burning hot jet of water and steam starts shooting out of one of the spouts on the side. I yelp, jumping back as the counter and half the cupboards are engulfed in the column of steam.

  Without a word, the doctor jumps over and presses the button again, stopping the column of steam from spraying any more. He says nothing, instead turning around and stalking out of the kitchen. I watch him turn the corner and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

  I’m stunned, shocked, like the ground is unsteady underneath me. The embarrassment is red hot inside me, my cheeks burning even after he’s left. I’m not actually sure if it’s embarrassment or desire, I just know I feel flushed and weak. His eyes read me like a book. His obvious lack of interest in me did nothing to stifle the warmth that blossomed inside me as soon as I saw him.

  I turn around slowly, facing the coffee machine again. I feel like I’m in a stupor. I stare at the buttons again, still having no idea how to extract the black liquid from the machine.

  “Looks like you met Elliot,” a jovial voice booms behind me. I turn around and see Dave’s familiar face smiling over at me.

  “Hey Dave,” I smile back. “Yeah I guess you could call it meeting him.” I laugh nervously. “Not much of a talker, is he?”

  “He definitely has the whole quiet, mysterious thing going on, old Doctor Davis does,” Dave chuckles. He slides in beside me and opens the cupboard, grabbing himself a mug. He has a quiet, easy confidence about him. Every movement is smooth and deliberate. You can’t help but feel comfortable around Dave.

  “You seem to be having quite the existential crisis there, staring at that coffee machine,” he says, laughing. “You do realise it makes coffee, right?”

  I glance over at him, squeezing out a grin.

  “Don’t worry,” he says, turning towards the coffee machine. “This thing is really finicky. It looks super fancy but it’s actually a piece of junk.”

  Dave smacks the top of the machine with an open palm and a little door pops open. He slides my coffee pod in and places a mug underneath one of the spouts. He turns his head to me and smiles reassuringly. I take a deep breath. It’s just first-day-at-work nerves. I definitely am not shaken up by the icy blue eyes that bore into me earlier, and the spicy, manly scent that trailed behind Dr. Davis.

  Dave presses one of the button and the machine rumbles to life again. Within a few seconds, rich, black coffee starts pouring into my cup.

  “Thanks,” I respond.

  His hand extends towards me with the steaming mug. I take a sip of the hot liquid and enjoy the bitter, smooth taste as it fills my mouth. I sigh, satisfied.

  “Thanks again for getting me this job, Davey. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it,” I say gratefully as Dave makes his own cup of coffee. He has no idea how desperate I was for a job when he offered to help.

  “Oh, stop,” he smiles at me. “Anything for my boy Clay.”

  I smile at him, glad to see a familiar face. I take a deep breath, still trying to quell the heat that grew inside me when Dr. Davis’ skin brushed against mine.

  “Have you seen Clay and Val since they got back from their vacation?” I ask, trying to generate some small talk to distract myself from the beating of my heart and the wetness that flooded between my legs a few seconds ago.

  My best friend, Valerie, is engaged to his best friend, Clay. They’re made for each other, and seeing their love has made me feel… not jealous. Lonely? Alone?

  My thoughts drift to the silent doctor. I haven’t felt my heart beat that fast in a long time. I stare off into nothing, thinking about his hand brushing mine, the heat from his body, how pillowy soft his lips looked..

  “Come on,” Dave says as I’m pulled out of my daydream. “I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team. Don’t worry, they’re a lot more friendly than Elliot. You’ll be fine.”

  I exhale, smiling at him. I haven’t heard a word Dave has said. My heart beats a bit faster when he mentions Elliot’s name. I wouldn’t mind being introduced to him properly, but that would probably require me to form full sentences in front of him and I’m not sure I’m ready for that. Today is turning out to be way more stressful than I thought it would be, but not for the reason I was expecting.

  Chapter 2 - Emma

  “How did it go?” My best friend asks me as soon as I’m within earshot of her.

  “It was good!” I squeak. My voice sounds forced, fake. Valerie raises an eyebrow. Her long blonde hair is tied up in a sleek ponytail and her eyes are glinting. She knows me too well.

  “Em,” she growls.

  I laugh. “It was ok. First day jitters. Their filing system is a mess! It’s a wonder they make any money at all in that place. I’m going to try to reorganise that whole thing.”

  I’m deflecting. I don’t mention the thing that’s been on my mind all day: Doctor Elliot Davis, and his unbelievable rudeness. And his irresistible sexiness. Val sits down beside me at the bar and waves over to the bartender. She orders two glasses of champagne for us and then turns towards me.

  “That’s good! You can make them see how valuable you are. I still can’t believe you haven’t been able to find work as an accountant for all these months!”

  “At least I’ve got something now,” I respond. “Dave was a real lifesaver, thank you so much for asking him for me.”

  I try to make my voice casual, but in reality I’m incredibly relieved. I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell Valerie how badly I needed this job, how badly I need the money. These debts are trouble, maybe even worse trouble than I’ve admitted to myself. I shake my head to dispel the thoughts.

  The bartender places the two flutes of golden liquid in front of us and Valerie grabs them, handing one over to me.

  “To your new job!” She says, raising her glass. We clink glasses and I take a sip, enjoying the explosion of bubbles on my tongue.

  “How are your coworkers?” Val asks, turning towards me. “You’re dying to tell me something, I can tell. What is it - a hot doctor?!”

  Valerie’s laugh rings out in the bar. Her boyfriend - fiance - is a hot doctor, as she says. We’ve been joking about finding me one of them
for months. For some reason I don’t want to tell her about Elliot Davis. What would I say? That I made a fool of myself trying to make coffee? That he just looked at me, probably judging me the whole time, saying nothing? That’s he’s unimaginably rude, but I couldn’t help feeling turned on just standing beside him?

  “It’s nothing,” I smile. “Everyone was really friendly! Dave took me around and introduced me to everyone.” She’s watching me and finally I crack a smile. “There was this one moment…” I pause.

  Val’s eyes widen and she leans forward. “Yes?? And??”

  “Oh, nothing,” I laugh, suddenly embarrassed. Val’s eyebrow shoots up towards her hairline. “I just... Oh my God, Val. Typical me. I made a fool of myself, I didn’t know how to use the coffee machine. I sprayed steam over the whole kitchen. Seriously, Val, everywhere. It was whistling and spraying out over the counter and cupboards and all over me. There was this doctor in the kitchen. He just stared at me, turned it off and then walked away.”

  I look over at Val and I can see the smile playing in her eyes. She’s trying not to laugh. The edges of my lips twitch upwards and for the first time today I crack. My laughter bubbles up from the pit of my stomach and erupts together with hers. The two of us lean on each other and I laugh until my sides hurt.

  I wipe a tear away from my eye and look over at my best friend. I’ve been feeling so unsure of myself all day and it’s not like me. She’s always able to bring me back to centre. Suddenly things don’t seems so bad. I’ll be able to make some money, get out of this tight spot I’m in. No jerk doctor or embarrassing first day can overshadow that fact.

  Plus, isn’t it better to make a splash of a first impression? I’ve never been a wallflower, so I should just own it.

  We finish our drinks and head off in different directions. My steps are light, my heart is singing. Things are finally starting to look up. I’ll go in early to work tomorrow and start working on the filing system, see if I can actually make a difference in the office. Now I have a project, a direction, and a plan. Nothing can stop me.

  Chapter 3 - Elliot

  I wake up early, before my alarm. That’s good, I think to myself. That means I can get to work early and be in and out of the kitchen before anyone else gets there. Before she gets there.

  My thoughts drift back to yesterday morning. I must have looked like an ass. Usually I don’t mind if people think I’m a jerk but I actually wanted her to like me. All I could do was stare at her. From the moment I turned the corner into the kitchen all I could see were those curves. Lucious, beautiful curves, perfectly moulded into her tight pencil skirt.

  I lay back in bed, stretching my arms overhead as I wake up. The imagine of the new girl, spraying steam all over the kitchen. She’d screamed, her red painted lips forming a small ‘o’ on her face. My cock twitches at the thought, just like it did yesterday standing next to her in the kitchen. I had to turn around and leave when she looked at me with those deep brown eyes. The steam had splatterd onto her white blouse and it was too much. I haven’t felt my cock jump to attention like that since…. No. I can’t think of the past right now. I’m not going to go down that road.

  I’m a professional. Not only that, I’m a father. I have responsibilities. Dating, relationships, all that stuff. It’s not for me. It can’t be for me. I have to take care of Gracie, I have to be there for her and be a strong role model.

  I swing my legs over the side of the bed and rub my eyes. I’ll have just enough time to drop Gracie off at school and then head over to the office, hopefully before anyone else is there.

  By the time I’m out of the shower and dressed, Gracie is up and eating some cereal in the kitchen.

  “Since when do you make your own breakfast?” I tease her, ruffling her fiery red hair. She rolls her eyes in an exaggerated motion.

  “I’m almost eleven years old, Dad! I can make my own breakfast!”

  “You’re growing up too fast.” I try to hide the tightening in my throat. She’s such a bright kid, she’s so smart. My heart fills with love when I look over the kitchen table at her. She munches on her cereal and then sticks out her tongue at me. I chuckle and turn around to fix my own breakfast.

  “You look different this morning, Dad.”

  “Since when do you call me Dad! What happened to Daddy?” I retort.

  “Well, DAD,” Gracie throws back, emphasizing the offending word. “Like I said, I’m almost eleven years old! And don’t try to change the subject. You look different.”

  She’s way too sharp. “I don’t think I look different! What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know, like… brighter. Like there’s a spring in your step.” Gracie narrows her eyes at me.

  “You have a girlfriend!” she exclaims excitedly.

  “What! No! Where did you get that idea?! How do you even know about that stuff anyways.”

  Gracie studies my face. She gets up off her chair and comes towards me, sticking her face inches from mine. She stitches her eyebrows together and stares at me, completely serious. I can see the speckles of brown in her blue eyes when they’re this close to me. I try to keep my face steady, but my lips start twitching upwards.

  “I can just tell.” Gracie pronounces, lifting her chin and turning on her heels. I can’t help but laugh. “Something has changed.”

  I watch her get back in her seat and continue eating her cereal. A spring in my step!

  “Dad, it’s not a bad thing, you know. You should get a girlfriend. One day I’ll have a boyfriend too.”

  “One day, hey? Anything you want to tell me?” I raise my eyebrows expectantly, lips curled up into a smile. She scrunches her nose at me.

  “Anything YOU want to tell ME?!” she retorts.

  “Ok, ok, Gracie. Put your dishes away, let’s go now. It’s time to leave for school.” I say to change the subject. I’m not enjoying this inquisition.

  We head out the door and Gracie’s words ring in my ears. Something’s changed in me? I shake my head. She’s always had an overactive imagination.

  Chapter 4 - Emma

  I get to work a bit early, determined to make sense of this filing system. When I went through it yesterday, I noticed there were files from ten years ago right beside files from this year! Nothing is organised alphabetically. The clinic doesn’t seem to have any sort of organisation. My accountant brain is in overdrive. I wonder how they’ve managed to do their tax returns at all.

  The receptionist before me had worked at the clinic since it opened. She was about eighty years old when she retired, and it looked like she still didn’t believe in the advent of technology. It’ll be a big job to digitise everything, but I think if I can come up with a better system, I can make myself indispensable to the clinic and make sure they see my value. Job security would be exactly what I need right now.

  I practically run up the subway steps towards the clinic. My brain is buzzing, ready to throw myself into a project. When I get to the door, everything is dark. I pull out the set of keys that were issued to me yesterday, and punch in the key code that I wrote down.

  I flick on the lights and drop my purse on my desk. I’ve brought my own coffee today, not wanting to repeat the embarrassment from yesterday. I sit down and crack my knuckles together. I look at the wall of files behind me and take a deep breath. Which way should I attack this? I pull down one of the stacks of files from the corner of the top shelf. I guess that’s as good a place as any.

  The files are soon scattered on my desk, sorted into chronological piles. Each year is then arranged alphabetically by patient. It’ll look worse before it gets better, I remind myself. I can’t figure out what kind of system they had before at all. It’s an absolute mess.

  This is what I’m good at. I’m detail-oriented, project based, driven. I like accomplishing things. I’m enjoying this quiet time this morning, sipping my hot coffee as I sort through piles of paperwork. My red lipstick is leaving a faint impression of my lips on my paper cup. I don’t
worry about it, keeping my focus on the stacks of paper in front of me. Before I know it, the early morning hour has slipped by and I hear the bell on the front door jingle as it swings open.

  “Oh, hi Elliot. I mean, Doctor Davis! Good morning!” I try to sound casual and friendly but it sounds almost forced. I cringe internally. I’m never like this!

  He looks at me with fire burning in his eyes. He looks mad. Furious, even. Why would he be mad?! All I did was say hello! A hot tendril of anger and outrage starts snaking up my spine.

  “Morning.”

  He’s gruff, barely grunting the word out. His dark eyes glance down at the tiled floor and he rushes past me, towards his office. I stare after him, incredulous.

  “Well that was rude,” I say under my breath. I hear his office door click shut and I feel like the room has gotten colder. My buzz, my energy, has been sapped. The breath has been taken out of my lungs. He’s so cold! And so rude! There’s no need to be that way at all. I wonder how he even manages to get patients to trust him with that bedside manner.

  The excitement I felt when I saw him walk in has turned to bitterness. My palms are suddenly sweaty, and I tell myself it’s because I’m outraged at his rudeness. It’s definitely not the way his eyes burned when he looked me up and down.

  I look at the piles of paper on my desk and start stacking them together. I was able to get through about five percent of the wall of files behind me. At least it’ll give me something to do, and keep me from dwelling on things like Dr. Davis, or on worse things, like the reason I need to make a good impression in the first place.