by Renea Mason
“Sexy, fun and so creative it makes my head spin! I’d read the damn phone book if Renea Mason wrote it.”
~NYT and USA TODAY bestselling author ROBYN PETERMAN~
Curing Doctor Vincent – Book #1
Winner of the Shameless Book Club Awards – Most Original Plot
~ Reviews for Curing Doctor Vincent, Book 1 of The Good Doctor Trilogy ~
“Renea Mason has once again stripped a genre and built something completely unique and magnificent!”
~ Robin, Book Reads and Reviews
“This book is SO MUCH MORE than an erotic romance. Of course, the sex is smokin’ hot, and kinky... but the story behind it all? THAT is what kept me reading page after page. I couldn’t put it down.”
~ Ashley, Book Junkie: Not so Anonymous
“The Doctor will consume you, leaving you breathless, with an insatiable need for more. The story is well crafted, the mystery of the doctor is compelling, and the men are mouth-watering. Another five-star read from Ms. Mason.”
~Nicole, Books N Pearls
“Fast paced and interestingly HOT.”
~ Beckey, In the Pages of a Good Book
“Hot and sizzling... move over Mr. Grey... Dr. Vincent is in!!... This story, while very hot and at times unconventional, is at its heart about love, healing and growth. If you enjoy any of these elements, along with a healthy dose of spicy eroticism, then this story is very much for you.”
~ Amy, My Crazy Book Addiction
“Renea Mason has a way of taking the erotic and turning it into a spectacular story. There is plenty of hot sex in this one, but it is more about self-realization and life-changing discoveries. It is beautifully written and the Parisian backdrop only enhances the eroticism. If you like your smut with a little more substance, this book is perfect!”
~ Amanda, A Bookaholic’s Fix: Feeding the Addiction
Surviving Doctor Vincent
The Good Doctor Trilogy – Book Two
Copyright © 2015 by Renea Mason. All rights reserved.
reneamason.com
Published by Secret Hungers Publishing
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are entirely fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Except in the case of brief quotations for the purpose of critical analysis or review, this book may not be reproduced in any form (print, electronic, audio or any other format), in whole or in part, without the express permission of the author.
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Cover Designed by Alchemy Book Covers
Edited by Nancy Cassidy at The Red Pen Coach
Print & E-Book Interior Layout by Ryan Fitzgerald
First eBook edition – October 20, 2015
First print edition – October 27, 2015
First audio book edition – Coming soon...
Due to the dynamic nature of the Internet, website links contained within this book may be outdated and/or no longer valid.
Revision: October 2015
Table of Contents
1. Distance
2. Fracture
3. Fragile
4. Reunion
5. Limits
6. Witness
7. Marked
8. Stitches
9. Words
10. Society
11. Snake
12. Pledge
13. Initiation
14. Imposter
15. Consequence
16. Truth
17. Reformation
~ Dedication & Acknowledgement ~
This book is dedicated to my husband Steven—the most wonderful and supportive man in the world. None of this would be possible without him.
To my fellow authors and mentors who have given me support and sage advice on this journey.
As always, thank you to my wonderful family and friends, who have been patient through my insanity.
I’d like to thank the Mad Ones who rocked beta-edits to help make the good doctor behave. They have my undying gratitude for their continued support—The Mad Masons beta-readers – Tiffany Dover, Lisa Errion, Elizabeth Robbins, Ashley Bodette, Beckey White, Sky Tillery, Crissy Sutcliffe, Amy Habel, Nicole Ulery, Robin Malone, Sharie Robinson, Tammy Becraft, Libby Sinclair, Tamera McIntosh, Lauren Luman, Dina Alexander, Christa Hins, Dawn Stewart, Julie Ayling, Hazel Lewis, and Amanda Miller. This story wouldn’t be the same without them!
CHAPTER ONE
Distance
“He asked me to marry him.” My sister, Gretchen, placed her hand on the table. The breathtaking, emerald-cut diamond ring sparkled in the midday sunlight that streamed through the restaurant window. James, Gretchen’s soon-to-be husband, didn’t only have great taste in women.
“Oh my God, I’m so excited for you!” I wanted my declaration to hold true, but my own selfishness stood in the way. Gretchen was my only family. In recent weeks, I had come to depend on our weekly chats. I should be content with her news—happy even. My issues were my own. It wasn’t her fault I fell in love with the man responsible for saving her life—the great Dr. Xavier Vincent—only to find my love unrequited. The declarations he made in my office, after our week in Paris, proved to be nothing more than fiction.
“The ring is gorgeous.” I grasped her fingers and lifted her hand to examine channel set stones accenting a center gem. “Have you set a date?” Silently, I hoped her life away from me would be decades from today. Even though she was old enough to attend college, I would always consider her my baby sister.
Her bright smile and rounded face radiated happiness. She exuded joy. After trapping a stray auburn strand of hair behind her ear, she blurted out, “Christmas. We’re going to get married at Christmas.”
I didn’t mean to sound incredulous, but the words escaped before I could pull them back. “That’s less than a year.”
Her smile faded. “I know, but since I’ve learned that time isn’t guaranteed, I don’t want to waste any.” She sat up straight and adjusted the pink and gray blouse that added to her youthful appearance.
How could I argue with her? The cancer almost took her from me once. I smiled, brushing my uncertainty for the future aside. “Of course, and James is a great guy. I couldn’t be happier for you.” I took a sip of water from the clear glass. “Why Christmas?”
“We wanted a winter wedding—he’ll be done with school and December is the only time his family can make the trip here from Alaska.” She clutched her fork in her hand. “Speaking of Alaska...”
I chewed the bite of salad, swallowed, and wiped my lips with the napkin, giving her my full, but apprehensive, attention.
She sipped her coffee then stared into the mug as she spoke, “After the wedding, we’re going to live with his parents.”
It took all my resolve not to yell. She couldn’t leave me. I needed her right now. She was all I had left. “You’re moving to Alaska?” The question sounded petulant when it hit the air.
She reached over and grabbed my hand. “Elaine, you can come visit. You can even stay with us. Their house is huge from what James has told me.”
The conversation made enthusiasm impossible. I pushed the leaves of lettuce around my plate.
She was always the optimistic one. “Look, Elaine, I know you think me being marr
ied will make things difficult. I won’t let it come between us. I really love him, and I love you too. It isn’t a choice. I have enough for both of you.” She patted the back of my hand.
Her statement amplified the childishness of my actions. “I’m happy for you. I really am. I’ll just miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too, but we barely see each other now. I’m always at school. Life won’t be any different. You can still call me to talk. We can even video chat.”
My world would change. I would be officially alone. There was a long awkward silence as I stared at my food. My last tie to anything normal—gone.
“So, I told you my big news, what have you been hiding during our phone conversations?” She arched an eyebrow. Her expression filled with anticipation.
I folded the napkin on my lap. “Nothing.” I was irritated with her; I had no right to be. She deserved to be happy after all she had been through. My mood, a direct reflection of my inability to move past the doctor, was my own stupidity—my own heartache. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to fall in love with someone so larger-than-life, so truly untouchable. With the wounds still fresh, the last thing I wanted to discuss was Xavier...or Paris. Gretchen’s wedding announcement deepened the void I had been falling into for the past several weeks. What a mess. Could I even explain what transpired? I should never have boarded that plane to France and pretended I was capable of handling the disappointment. I had accepted that it was my choice to indulge in his proposal—the sex. But falling in love with him had been the unwelcome side effect. He returned my affection, but his abrupt departure only served to deepen the wound. Fucking hope.
Gretchen groaned. “You’re going to make me pull the information out of you, aren’t you? Come on, any sexy men at work?”
I sipped my water, allowing the liquid to swish in my mouth while I considered the best answer. Careful, I didn’t want to lie. Not to her. “At work? No.”
“You went to Europe and have said next to nothing about the trip. Surely, there is something worth telling.”
Busted. I’d mentioned the excursion the night the doctor’s invitation arrived. I’d called Gretchen to see if she could take care of Prince—the marble tabby I’d inherited when a neighbor abandoned him after moving. However, after receiving the doctor’s offer of a weeklong tryst in Paris, featuring him and two other men, I’d shut the rest of the world out, including Gretchen. Sure, we’d engaged in small talk, but I’d focused the conversations on her. My time was best spent trying to forget Paris ever happened.
“It was...interesting.” I glanced at the table beside us when an old man with a bad toupee let out a loud chuckle of laughter.
Gretchen’s focus didn’t waver. “Interesting? Art is interesting, a foreign city...that’s exciting. Didn’t you go sightseeing?”
“I saw a few landmarks.” And some more than stimulating art—the gallery. The Rainmaker. Images of Marco, Sebastian and the doctor, making a meal of me in Le Jules Verne, came flooding back. Xavier’s surrender on his knees in the Opera House still haunted me. I sighed and leaned my head to the side, trying to dislodge the thought.
“Like?” she asked, pulling me from my reverie.
“The Eiffel Tower and the Opera House.” Better to leave out the details. I placed a fork full of lettuce in my mouth while I prepared to change the subject.
“What about Dr. Vincent? Did you get to meet him? You said he was the one who invited you.”
I choked on leafy greens, coughed, and covered my mouth with the napkin I’d had draped across my lap. What would she think of me if I told her exactly what had happened? About how I went to Paris, had kinky sex with three strangers and fell in love, only to be led on by one of the most powerful men in the world. Should I tell her about how I’d acted like a ridiculous schoolgirl since then, hoping he’d call?
Thinking about my time with him caused heat to flood my cheeks, fueled by both desire and frustration. How would I ever be able to explain my indiscretion? That week was all I dreamed about—the good and the bad of it all.
She swirled the water in her glass. “Elaine, what’s wrong? You’ve been edgy ever since I got here.”
“Gretchen, it’s not you. I swear. I’m so excited for you.” I forced a faint smile in an attempt to show the happiness I wanted to feel for her.
“You don’t seem excited. It’s not like you to hide things from me.”
I sighed, placing the napkin back in my lap. “I’d tell you, but I don’t want you to think less of me.”
She smiled. “Elaine, I love you. You can tell me anything.”
I raised my glass to my lips and took a gulp of water. “Yes, I met Dr. Vincent.”
“Oh my God, what was he like?” She sat up in her seat, eyes wide.
I took a deep breath. “Everything you can imagine and more.”
She leaned forward, just like she did when we were children and I brought tales of high school exploits to her fragile elementary school mind. Gretchen was impossible to corrupt. Never had there been someone so pure of heart; the story of my saucy romp in a foreign land was bound to shock her. Hell, even I found it hard to believe at times.
The water wet my throat, and I laid my plight out on the table. “I slept with him.”
She gasped and the old couple at the nearby table whipped their heads around to stare at us. The man’s artificial hair bounced with his movements. Gretchen choked back a giggle and whispered, “Come on, details.”
“Promise you won’t judge me.”
She reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “Have I ever?”
I smiled. She hadn’t in the past. All the crazy things I did while growing up, she never once met me with anything but wide-eyed enthusiasm. The standards she held for herself, however, sat upon a higher rung of the moral ladder. I hoped she would never change. More importantly, I prayed her perception of me would remain the same. My week in Paris was a far cry from making out with John Smith under the bleachers in tenth grade.
“The story is rather long and complicated. I’ll share the details, I swear.” I sliced my head toward the table next to us. “I don’t want an audience.”
She squeezed my hand, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are you going to see him again? Are you dating?”
I laughed, but the sound came from a painful place. Date him? That would have been a logical step, considering he’d confessed his love for me. But hell, I didn’t even know where he was. His empty promises and meaningless declarations were the real source of my foul mood. Weeks had passed; not one returned phone call.
“No, we’re not dating. As for seeing him again, I thought I would, but you know how things go sometimes... They just don’t call back.”
“Oh, Elaine, I’m so sorry.” Her enthusiasm fell along with her smile.
I lifted my napkin to my face, dabbed my mouth, and then placed the cloth on the table. I waved my hand in the air, signaling for the waiter to bring the check. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. My time was enjoyable, but the trip didn’t end as I had hoped. Nothing I won’t get over.” Someday, but not today. Perhaps never.
“Maybe he’ll change his mind. Realize what a fool he was to let you go.”
I chuckled. “I’m not going to hold my breath.”
The waiter, with his crooked smile and messy boy-band hair, approached the table. “Anything else I can get you ladies?”
I smiled at him and hoped it masked the melancholy disposition I had succumbed to. “Just the check, please.”
He pulled a black folder from the red apron tied around his waist and handed the bill to me.
Gretchen stood. I tucked the slip of paper under my arm and stepped in front of her, clasping both of her hands in mine. “Gretchen, please understand. I love you, and I am really happy for you. I’ve been in a funk lately because of...him. I promise I’ll snap out of it before we go dress shopping. I can’t wait to plan your bridal shower.”
She smiled. “No embarrassing gifts. I’m st
ill blushing from my birthday.”
I retrieved my purse from the back of the chair, fished out some cash and placed the money along with the receipt on the table. “Oh, come on. James loved the pasties.”
We walked toward the exit and her laughter filled the archway.
“When we get to the car, you’re going to spill those details,” Gretchen insisted, in an overly loud whisper.
I laughed, but my exuberance soon died. Before I reached the large glass doors, they opened, placing me face-to-face with Dr. Xavier Vincent—all six-plus feet of him. His dark hair, with trace strands of gray, and his steel blue, mesmerizing eyes...
I froze.
So did he.
Gretchen latched onto my arm.
Had Xavier been alone, I might have salvaged the moment, but the leggy blonde hanging onto his arm made me want to throw up.
The moment grew more awkward as I stared into his hard, unfamiliar eyes.
“Elaine,” he breathed my name like a curse.
“Dr. Vincent,” I returned his salutation with short, crisp consonants while yanking my arm from my sister’s tightening grasp.
I needed to channel my anger. He hadn’t been kidnapped and held in a dungeon away from a phone or executed by sociopaths. The crushing force of truth would destroy me later. Now I’d take him head-on, starting with her.
I took a deep breath. “Hi, I’m Elaine. I work for Dr. Vincent’s company. And you are?” I extended a hand to the woman, in her custom suit and expensive haircut. I hated her.
She took my hand and gave me a beauty-pageant smile—all teeth. “I’m Monica. So nice to meet you.”
Being disrespectful would have made me look immature. “Likewise.”
The doctor’s stare burned intense, hostile even.
Fuck him. He could have told me our relationship was over. After all those beautiful words. Those soul-crippling declarations. I looked up at his face and remembered when his lips once said, “I love you.” I crossed my arms.
Gretchen pushed past me and offered him her hand. “Hi, Dr. Vincent. I’m Gretchen, Elaine’s sister. I wanted to thank you for saving my life. Without your cancer drug, I’d be dead.”