Curing Doctor Vincent (The Good Doctor Trilogy Book 1)
Read Curing Doctor Vincent (The Good Doctor Trilogy Book 1) Online
Authors: Renea Mason
Curing Doctor Vincent
The Good Doctor Trilogy
Book One
by
Renea Mason
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.
Curing Doctor Vincent
The Good Doctor Trilogy
– Book One
Copyright Renea Mason 201
5
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form (print,
electronic, audio or any other format), in part or in entirety, without the
express permission of the author. This ebook is not transferrable.
This includes uploading the book in part or in whole to
Internet sites that distribute pirated materials. In these cases, perpetrators
may be subject to penalties for copyright infringement and other laws intended
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Cover art by
Alchemy Book Covers
Editor Nancy Cassidy -
The Red Pen Coach
Beta-edits by the Mad Mason Beta-readers -
Tiffany
Dover, Lisa Errion, Elizabeth Robbins, Ashley Bodette, Beckey White, Sky
Tillery, Crissy Sutcliffe, Amy Habel, Nicole Ulery, Robin Malone, Debbie
Willis, Sharie Robinson, Libby Sinclair, and Amanda Miller.
Reviews
of Curing Doctor Vincent
“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
Acknowledgements and Dedication
This book is dedicated to the Mad Masons—the most
wonderful group of friends and supporters an author can have! It takes a book
this naughty to honor a group this nice.
As always, thank you to my wonderful family, who make it
all possible.
I’d like to thank the ladies who worked so hard to help me
breathe life into Doctor Vincent and who have continually showed their support—The
Mad Masons beta-readers - Tiffany Dover, Lisa Errion, Elizabeth “the fabulous”
Robbins, Ashley Bodette, Beckey White, Sky Tillery, Crissy Sutcliffe, Amy
Habel, Nicole “hooker” Ulery, Robin Malone, Debbie Willis, Sharie Robinson,
Libby Sinclair and Amanda Miller. This story wouldn’t be the same without them!
Guest
“This change will make a huge difference to physicians
prescribing the medication. Are there any questions?” With a quick sigh, I
placed the laser pointer on the table, crossed my arms and wiped the sweat from
my palms. It should have been an easy presentation, not unlike the hundreds I
had given before, but this one was different.
Seated less than three feet away, in his expensive, dark
gray suit, black tie and silver cufflinks, sat Dr. Xavier Vincent—company
icon and legend. It’s not every day the man who developed the cure for your
sister’s cancer shows up unannounced. His unshakable stare caused butterflies
to stir in my stomach.
“I have a question.” The doctor sat forward, raising his
hand.
I swallowed hard. “Yes, Dr. Vincent?” And to think, I had thought
of patting myself on the back for holding it together. He wasn’t supposed to be
in the meeting. He really should have abstained from asking questions.
“How long did it take you to compile this research?” I
couldn’t read his expression, but that didn’t undermine the intensity of it.
“About six months, Sir.” I rolled the seam of my jacket
between my fingers. So many things ran through my mind. I should have worn that
dress I pulled from the hotel closet earlier that morning and discarded,
instead of a drab brown blazer and pants. I should have gotten that stylish
haircut and highlights last week, instead of sticking my auburn mane in a messy
up-do. I shouldn’t have eaten that cheesecake on Tuesday. Had I only known he’d
be here, I would have changed everything.
“Are you happy with your job?” He folded his arms on the
table and sat up straight.
It was an unfair question, especially given the audience. I
wasn’t happy with my job, but refused to disrespect him with a lie. “It’s
important work that needs to be done.”
He reached for his aluminum tumbler, took a drink, and
licked the water from his lips. “That’s not what I asked.”
Distracted by the sweeping of his tongue over his full lower
lip, I forgot to engage the filter on my mouth. “I…I’m sorry. I find fulfillment
in my work, Doctor. That’s the best any of us can ask, isn’t it really? I think
true contentment impedes progress. Shouldn’t we all strive for something more?
Happiness leads to complacency. So no, my job doesn’t make me happy, but as I
said, it is important work.”
Several gasps echoed through the room. The doctor raised an
eyebrow, paused, and then stood. “Well…thank you for your honesty, Elaine. If
no one else has anything more for her, we can call it day. It was great to meet
everyone and you are all invited to dinner at the Cornerstone Bistro at
six-thirty. I hope to see you there.”
Shit. How could I be
so stupid?
My mouth got me into this mess. Some
say the truth is best unspoken, but not for me. My convictions left me
incapable of lying.
I started the shutdown process on my computer and opened my
bag to tuck away my notebook. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
The room was a flurry of activity as everyone vied for the
doctor’s attention. I couldn’t blame them; the man was intriguing.
Dark hair, laced with only trace strands
of gray
,
betrayed his youth. In magazines, his
young age and good looks always contrasted his accomplishments, securing him
celebrity status among his peers. I remember seeing him on the cover of
Forbes Magazine - Fabulous under Forty
edition. He couldn’t be that much older than me. In reality, the sharp angles
of his face, and the light dusting of silver, gave him an air of sophistication
beyond his years. It seemed unfair for a man with his beauty to also be gifted
with such intelligence. Nature should be careful to balance such things. I had
never thought of him in those terms before, but he was handsome beyond
compare—untouchable, god-like even
. And I’d just told him I
hated my job.
It only took a moment to remind myself that this was a
medical conference, not a singles bar. Besides, he wasn’t even on the market,
the ring on his finger spoke of his commitments. But God…he was gorgeous. And
every time he folded his large hands during the meeting, I had to will myself
not to shiver. He had such long fingers. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Elaine?”
I looked up from my bag and the notebook slipped from my
fingers. His steel blue eyes and strong jaw line made him look like a model, not
a man capable of curing cancer. I needed to focus on something else, like a
list of companies to submit my resume to. I cleared my throat. “Yes…Doctor.”
“You are coming to dinner.”
“I hadn’t planned on it. I’m not part of the team. Just a
guest speaker.” I bent to collect the notebook from the floor, but he beat me
to it. Our uncoordinated approaches caused me to smack my head into his.
“Ouch… Oh, I am so sorry. Are you okay?” I rubbed the sore
spot on my head.
He laughed. “I’m fine.” He handed me the notebook.
Laughter was good. At least I hoped. I reached for the book,
recognizing for the first time just how tall he was. I halted for a moment at the
intoxicating scent of his cologne. He smelled like spiced-chocolate. “I don’t
know what’s wrong with me, I’m not usually this nervous.” But if I had to
venture a guess, it was the combination of being ill-prepared for his surprise attendance
and my increasingly horny single status.
“I know.”
I stopped fidgeting with my items and fixed him with a
perplexing stare. “I’m sorry?” Great, now I was even more unsettled.
“I saw you at the convention in Kansas City last year. You
were quite confident.”
Shit.
Of all the things he could have witnessed. Kansas City wasn’t
my finest moment.
“Look, that convention…it was…I mean—”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.” He reached over and
closed the lid on my laptop and handed it to me.
“Thank you, but I don’t want to hold you up from dinner.” And
I didn’t want to rehash Kansas City, so I jumped on his easy out. The
disappointment of presenting marketing data at conferences, rather than
representing the company as their spokesperson, was reminder enough.
“It wasn’t a question. You are coming to dinner.”
I pulled the zipper closed on my bag and then brushed the
hair from my eyes, to be sure that I wasn’t dreaming. “OK. Where is it? I’ll
meet you there.” I wasn’t accustomed to feeling so inadequate, or
discombobulated. He set me on edge. My skin tingled with sexual attraction and
I wanted to throw myself at his feet for saving my sister. Dr. Vincent was
making one fine mess of me.
He crossed his arms and his eyes narrowed. “Where are you
staying?”
“At the Marriot.”
“Perfect. I’ll meet you in the lobby at six. Is that enough
time?”
“Ahhh…yes…but…”
“Good.” He turned and walked to the doorway. “Oh and
Elaine…I don’t like being stood up.” With that he walked away.
****
The lobby was crowded at dinnertime. The bustle of patrons strolling
through the common area with luggage made it hard to navigate. When I turned
the corner, I ran into the good doctor’s chest.
He maintained his balance and clutched my upper arms,
stopping me before I had the chance to topple him. “There you are.”
I knew in that moment this was not a good idea. My thoughts
regarding him were anything but professional. Even the slightest contact with
him set me on fire.
“Elaine, are you okay?” He leaned down and stared into my
eyes.
I smiled at him. “Yes. I’m fine. Just a bit distracted.”
“By?”
I wouldn’t lie to him, but there was no way I was giving him
the detailed truth. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
He returned my smile. “Well…let’s go get you a drink. The
restaurant is only a few blocks away.” He motioned toward the exit.
Through the revolving door and down the uneven slate
sidewalk, we walked side by side. I tucked my hands into the pockets of my wool
coat. Chicago was chilly this time of year and the wind caused me to shiver.
“So when did you start working for Western?” He stopped in front
of a building that resembled a tavern, but with a French flair. The amber
lighting from inside spilled through the windows, turning the walk a golden hue.
He opened the door and motioned for me to enter.
Voices, cheering and laughing, engulfed me, and I turned my
head to respond to him over my shoulder. “Right out of college. So it’s been a
few years.”
The feel of his wide-spread hand on the small of my back,
chased away the bite of the Chicago night.
He approached the host podium and a man with gray hair and a
black apron said, “You with Western?”
The doctor, with his hand still on my back, answered the
older man, “Yes.”
The man scratched out something on a notepad and said, “Right
this way.”
At the table sat several of the meeting attendees. I didn’t
know anyone since I was only in town to present my research findings and was then
headed back to New York. The doctor returned the many greetings he got from the
team members with a quick wave.
I stopped breathing when his fingers brushed my neck. He hooked
them around the collar of my coat and coaxed it down my shoulders. The doctor
took two good strides in front of me and pulled out a chair. “Please, have a
seat.”
I did as he requested and he pushed in the chair for me. I
willed myself to stop trying to find more in his actions than a sophisticated
man being polite.
I took a deep breath and let out a long sigh as he
disappeared with our coats. When he took a seat beside me, I wasn’t sure if I’d
survive the rest of the evening. He smelled so good. I knew it had to be my
imagination, but I swore I could feel heat radiating from him. God…I needed to
get laid.
The waiter, a man in his early twenties with red hair and a
bright smile, approached the table. “Can I get you something to drink?”
The doctor’s shoulder rubbed against mine and then his hot
breath brushed my ear. “What would you like to drink?”
Alcohol was not a good idea. The doctor wouldn’t take kindly
to being accosted by a horny, drunken co-worker and his wife would be even less
happy.
I faced him and with one look into his eyes, I knew there
could be no alcoholic drinks. “I’ll have a water.”
He raised an eyebrow and turned back to the waiter. “Two
glasses of your best
pinot noir
.”
It was my turn to give an incredulous glance.
Without hesitation, he responded, “Ms. Watkins, you have
nearly given me a concussion, run me over in the lobby, and you have been
distracted since our time in the conference room. Water is not what you need.”
“Since when do doctors advise the use of alcohol?”
He leaned in closer. “When he thinks that the patient needs
to forget her worries.”
I huffed. “And I suppose arguing my point would get me nowhere.”
“Are you allergic to alcohol?”
“No.”
“On any medications that are contraindicated with alcohol
use?”
“No.”
“Then yes, you are quite correct. There is no use arguing.”
The waiter returned with two glasses and a bottle. He poured
a small amount of wine in one glass and presented it to the doctor. Dr. Vincent
took a sip and nodded to the waiter, who then topped his glass and poured a
second one, placing it in front of me before leaving.
The doctor lifted his glass and said, “To new and wonderful
experiences.”
I lifted my glass and it clinked as it touched the side of
his. He raised his glass and stood. Over the sound of the big-screen TVs in
every corner blaring the news broadcasts, various sports and music videos, the
doctor made a toast. The twenty plus executives, salespeople and clinicians
seated at the table, gave the doctor their full attention. “Thank you all for
coming out tonight. But mostly, thanks to all of you who’ve worked so hard to
get Lyenstat into the hands of the patients who so desperately needed it this
past year. Even though I wanted to come here personally to thank all of you, my
gratitude pales in comparison to the thanks that comes from the thousands of
brain cancer patients who now have a second chance. Everyone raise your glass…”
He paused and waited until all hands were outstretched. “To health, happiness and
all you truly desire.” He lifted the glass to his lips and took a drink.
The clanging of glasses and chatter of joyful tidings
surrounded the table. The doctor sat beside me.
“What do you desire, Elaine?”
I choked and started to cough.
He placed his hand on my back. “You OK?”
My shock turned to a laugh. “Yes, I’m fine.” I took another
drink to wash down the one that had stuck in my throat, sat the wine on the
table and turned to him. “I desire…” God, I needed to be careful. “…To tell you
how much I appreciate you.”
