Doctor's Orders (Complete Series)

by Lilian Monroe

  His shock at the door flying open turns to a bright smile. He scoops his arm around my waist and brings his lips to mine. He smells of musk and spice and his lips taste sweet. I melt into him and breathe in his scent. I could kiss him all night.

  Ignoring my insistent kisses, he pulls away and presents me with the bouquet of flowers.

  “These are for you,” he says with a smile.

  “They’re beautiful, Clay. What’s the occasion?”

  “It’s a surprise,” he says with a wink. “Now put those things in water and let’s go.”

  My heart is thumping. He smiles at me and I grab a vase from the cupboard. I hastily stuff the flowers into it and nod to him.

  “Let’s go.”

  He laughs. “Why the rush?”

  “I’ve been cooped up in here all day.”

  “Well come on, then,” he says, taking my hand and leading me out the door. I elbow him gently and can’t keep the smile from my face. We head down onto the busy street. Clay has his arm around my waist, holding me tight to him. I love how our bodies just seem to fit together perfectly, like all his crooks fit into my crannies.

  Clay sets the pace to an easy stroll. When I try to speed us up, he slows me back down. He lets out a deep, baritone laugh.

  “Are you impatient or something? You keep trying to drag me along.”

  “I’m just wanting to get to where we’re going. You know how I hate surprises.”

  “You love surprises. Don’t even pretend like you don’t.”

  He gives me a sidelong glance and my cheeks blush. I roll my eyes in an exaggerated motion but I know he’s right. I love his surprises. Almost as much as I love him.

  I resign myself to his slow stroll. His arm around me fills me with warmth, knowing that I’m walking next to the man I love. Next to the man who loves me.

  “Do you know what today is?” He asks me as we walk.

  “Um, Sunday?”

  “Very perceptive,” he says sarcastically. “No, it’s one year since you walked into my office. One year since you walked into my life.”

  My heart flutters. He’s right.

  “You remembered,” I breathe.

  “Remembered? It was the best day of my life.”

  We walk for ten minutes and then Clay pulls me down a street. Halfway down the block he slows to a stop.

  “We’re here,” he says with a smile.

  I look up at the building and my jaw drops. Gallant’s. It’s New York City’s most popular new restaurant. It’s booked up for months, you basically need to be an A-list celebrity to get a table.

  “Clay! How…?”

  “The owner was one of my patients. Owed me a favor.” He waves his hand. “Doesn’t matter how I got it, tonight we have the best seat in the house.”

  He’s not wrong. The Maître D sits us down at a table on a dais, away from most other people. There’s a small privacy screen halfway around the dais so it feels like we have our own little area of the restaurant.

  It’s a beautiful room. The lights are low with candles on every table. I glance around the room at the couples, businessmen, socialites, and wonder how we got to sit where we are. A couple people glance over at us, and a thrill passes through my stomach.

  “Good evening, Dr. O’Neill. So glad you could join us tonight,” a booming voice says. “Ah! And this must be Miss Brooks.”

  I turn to see a portly man with ruddy cheeks and long grey whiskers.

  “Mr. Rickshaw. Thank you for having us.” Clay stands up and shakes his hand. Mr. Rickshaw reaches over to me and takes my hand in his, bowing slightly over it and brushing it lightly with his lips. I blush and nod my head, not really knowing what to do in response.

  “It’s my pleasure. I won’t take any more of your time. I trust you will enjoy our nine course degustation. The wine is paired specifically for each dish. Enjoy your evening.” And with a wink, he walks away. I see him stop at another table, and then another, like the perfect host.

  What follows is one of the most exquisite meals I’ve ever experienced. Each dish is more delicious than the last, and the waiters keep our wine glasses full. Clay’s eyes are sparkling in the candlelight, but I can’t help but wonder if there’s an extra sparkle to them tonight.

  The ninth course is dessert. A decadent dome of chocolate is placed in front of me and Clay raises his glass.

  “To us,” he says simply.

  I smile, starry-eyed. He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, and there’s no one I’d rather be here with. There’s no one I’d rather be anywhere with.

  “I love you,” I reply.

  “Should we dig in?” Clay asks with a grin. “I know you’re dying to eat that.”

  I giggle and pick up my fork. I try to slice through the dome of chocolate with my fork but instead just break the shell. I try again, clearing parts of the shell away to reveal a small box. I look up at Clay, my brows furrowed as my jaw drops. He’s beaming at me, and his eyes are definitely sparkling.

  I pick up the box off the plate and open it up. Inside is a beautiful, gleaming diamond ring that’s sparkling just as much as Clay’s eyes.

  Without me realizing what he’s doing, he appears next to me on bended knee and gently takes the box from me.

  “Valerie Brooks. You’ve made me a happy man. I never want to be apart from you. Marry me.”

  Just like the movies, my hands fly up to my mouth. My vision is blurry from the tears that appear from nowhere in my eyes. I’m speechless, all I can do is nod my head and hope my face isn’t as scrunched up as it feels. He slips the ring over my finger and wraps me in his arms, twirling me in a circle on the dais.

  I hear applause and realize the entire restaurant has witnessed his proposal. We stand and smile, me more bashfully than Clay. He’s beaming. I look up at him and know that I’m the luckiest person in the world.

  A waiter appears with a bottle of champagne for us. “Compliments of the house,” he says.

  We drink a toast together and I turn away from Clay, knowing if I keep staring at him, I’ll start crying again. My eyes sweep across the room as I try to compose myself.

  In the back corner, I notice a face that looks familiar. Her eyes are shooting flaming arrows at me, and her perfectly straight, long black hair is once again pushed behind her with long, red fingernails. The hatred emanating from that woman almost takes my breath away, until she stands up and walks out of the restaurant.

  I glance back at Clay, who hasn’t seen anything. He’s too busy staring at me. The love in his eyes brings me back to him, and I realize that her anger, her jealousy, are a speck of dust in comparison to our love for each other. She’s gone, and all that matters is me and Clay, together. Forever.

  “I love you, Clay.”

  “You’ve just made me the happiest man in the world, Val. I love you, too.”

  He leans over and kisses me. It’s tender and soft, it’s a hint of desire wrapped up in pure, true love.

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  Keep reading for Book 2: Doctor D

  Doctor D

  Book 2

  1

  Emma

  Insecurity doesn’t look good on anyone. I’m not usually like this, but the stress from the past few months has been building up far too much. I tuck a strand of my ridiculously curly brown hair behind my ear. I square my shoulders: I’m the girl with the big hair and the bright red lips that can light up a room. I’m the one that people look at. The one people walk up to. I’m not the one that’s crippled by doubts and insecurities.

  I take a deep breath. It’s just first day jitters. The first day at a new job is always the roughest… at least that’s what I’m telling myself. I’m nervous, but so far everyone I’ve met has been nice.

  I’m staring at the coffee machine in the break room like it’s about to start t
alking to me. It might, for all I know - this thing has more buttons than my TV remote. All I want is a nice, strong cup of coffee. I feel like I’m face-to-face with some sort of I.Q. test. There’s a basket of pods beside the machine but I haven’t figured out how they actually turn into the liquid gold I’m craving. I glance around. No one’s here to help me.

  I desperately need a coffee already, and it’s not even 9am. I need this job. Badly. I’ve got debts that need to be paid, and collection time is coming around faster than I’m comfortable with. I try not to think about it right now, but the thought of what I need to pay back creeps into my mind and I’m nervous all over again. There’s a lot riding on this job.

  I’m working the reception desk at New York’s most prestigious plastic surgery office. So far, I’ve seen a stream of gorgeous men and women walk in and out for their consultations. I look down at my own clothes, a white blouse and grey pencil skirt, and I can’t help but notice the lumps and bumps on my body. I never knew how self-conscious I could be until I was surrounded by an industry that is based on superficiality.

  I take a deep breath and stare at the glowing white buttons on the machine. I just need a coffee, and I need to relax.

  I open the cupboard above the coffee machine to try to find a mug. None in this one. I try the next cupboard over. Nope, not that one either. I’m on to the third cupboard when I hear – no, I sense – him come into the break room. I turn my head as he slides in next to me and then reaches down to the cupboard near my legs. His hand extends the handle and my heart starts beating faster.

  My eyes drag along his arm, noticing how muscular his forearm is, how broad and strong his hand looks. His white doctor’s coat is pulling at the shoulders, betraying how wide they are. He bends down and his dark brown hair falls across his temple. He opens the cupboard and pulls out two mugs, finally standing up and handing one of them to me. My eyes are at chest-level, and I lift them up to his face. Our eyes meet and my throat tightens. I struggle to swallow past the lump that’s mysteriously appeared in the middle of my throat. My mouth is suddenly dry.

  He extends the mug toward me and I reach out to take it, still staring at him wordlessly. His eyes are an icy blue, set off by his thick, dark lashes. They look like they’re a thousand miles deep, as cold and unreadable as the ocean in the wintertime. I can feel the heat from his body radiating toward me and it’s making me almost dizzy. Our fingers brush each other as the mug exchanges from his hand to mine. My skin sizzles where it touches his fingers, making my cheeks burn even hotter. The touch of his skin sends a thrill through my arm and I look away from him, trying to hide my embarrassment.

  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.”

  “Dr. 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 closer to me, one eyebrow raised expectantly.

  Rude. Typical arrogant surgeon.

  I step aside and he puts his mug under the machine’s 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, keeping 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 at 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 and sent 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… darn. 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, Dr. Davis jumps over and presses the button again, stopping the blast of steam from spraying any more. He says nothing, instead turning around and stalking out of the room. I watch him turn the corner and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

  I’m stunned. I feel 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. It shouldn’t be this difficult.

  “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 Dr. 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 realize it makes coffee, right?”

  I glance over at him, squeezing out a grin.

  “Don’t worry,” he says, turning to 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 buttons and the machine rumbles to life again. Within a few seconds, rich, black coffee starts pouring into my cup.

  “Thanks,” I respond as he extends the steaming mug of coffee toward me. 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 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. Seeing their love has made me feel… not jealous. Lonely? Alone?

  Dave says something but I don’t listen. My thoughts drift to the silent doc
tor. I haven’t felt my heart thump 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 friendlier 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.

  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 and fake, even to my ears. 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 okay. 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 reorganize that whole thing.”

  I’m deflecting. I don’t mention the thing that’s been on my mind all day: Dr. 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 to 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.”