Curing Doctor Vincent (The Good Doctor Trilogy Book 1) (10 page)

“Oh great.”

He squeezed me a
little tighter. “But remember, he didn’t invite them. He invited you.”

He placed his lips on
my cheek and whispered, “He has excellent taste.”

“Can I be honest with
you?”

He turned me in his
arms, allowing me to gaze into his deep brown eyes. So gorgeous. Like a work of
art. “Bella, you can tell me anything. I know that our meeting wasn’t typical,
but unlike Xavier, who is fighting an internal battle with his past and his
desire, I’m not. If you want to keep in touch after this week, I’d be honored. But
if you’d rather move on, I understand.”

“Marco, that’s the
thing. I have very typical reactions in an atypical situation. I honestly don’t
know what I want. Is it even possible for him to love me? Would I be willing to
love him if I could only have part of him? I so want to help him. Allow him to
know true intimacy without reliving his past. But no one is ever successful at
changing another person. If Lydia was an expert, and couldn’t do it…”

He reached up and
stroked my cheek. “Couldn’t or wouldn’t? I may not have known Lydia well, but
it was obvious she adored X, much like a collector enjoys their prize artifact.
She, like Roxanne, was in love with the idea of him. She was older and
emotionally detached. She supported his career, but they led very different
lives. I often wondered if she didn’t perpetuate the problem. Then I watch you
two. There is something between the two of you that wasn’t there with Lydia.”

“Lust.”

“No.” He thrust his
hips forward, rubbing his rock hard cock against me. “No. This is lust. I have
to admit X is a brilliant director and you are a most talented leading lady. It’s
wonderful, but that’s not what you and X feel. When you kissed him today, it
was loving and tender. You are the first woman I’ve seen that really wants to
see him as a man and not a celebrity. That’s the only thing that can save him.”

“I just hope he wants
to be saved.”

“Every man does but
will rarely admit it.” He kissed me on the cheek. “Let’s get you to your
chariot, M’lady. Your king awaits.”

Chapter Nine

Revelation

The large stone
building resembled a concert hall or opera house. Members of the media held
cameras and protesters held signs, handwritten in French.

The amount of frenzy
outside the hall was more than I expected. “What is the topic of the event?”

The doctor looked out
the window. “It’s a cancer research fundraiser.”

He shifted so that
his leg rested against mine. The electricity between us continued to grow. I
was slowly becoming consumed by his every touch. It was not good. These
feelings could never lead to anything productive. I tried to focus on something
else. “What are they angry about?”

Marco leaned forward
and looked out the window. “Oh, they are the animal rights activists. Even
though Western has the most ethical and humane laboratory practices, many would
love to see humans replace the guinea pigs. I can admire their conviction. Even
if their tactics are sometimes tiresome.”

The car parked and
Marco exited, followed by the doctor. When he emerged, people applauded and
cheered and blinding camera flashes filled the car. He offered me his hand,
steadying me as I stepped from the car onto the sidewalk. The cameras continued
to flash as the doctor laced his fingers between mine.

I leaned in to
whisper to him, but he raised our joined hands to his mouth and placed a soft
kiss on the back of my hand—the gesture was so normal…familiar…loving…and
public, that it silenced any thought I had.

A photographer turned
to the rowdy crowd of protesters screaming various chants in French beyond a
barricade of police. One emphatic woman stood out. Her haggard features and
tattered clothes added to her intensity. From her mouth flowed in plain, American-accented
English, “Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!” Anger and hate lined the woman’s face as
she struggled against the officer holding her back.

I whispered, “What is
that about?”

He squeezed my hand
gently, but said nothing as we made our way through the entrance.

The grand lobby of
the hall seemed to swallow us. The huge, ornate columns and marble floors spoke
of France’s history. Gold leaf cherubs held plaster banners that framed the
ceiling. I tried my hardest not to look like a tourist, but the place was breathtaking.
A band played in one corner of the large space. Waiters dressed in tuxedos
served drinks on golden platters, making their paths between the guests and the
large mahogany bar, which sat opposite the auditorium doors.

Another kiss to the
back of my hand. “Beautiful.” His lips lingered on my skin.

I glanced around the
room one more time before facing the doctor to answer. “Yes. It’s gorgeous.”

He pulled me closer,
wrapping his arm around my waist. “I wasn’t talking about the room. I was
talking about you.”

This was more contact
than I had been allowed to have with him previously. Butterflies filled my
stomach, not because of his touch, but rather the way he looked at me. It was
different. There was hunger, just like always, but something beyond
that—something I could easily drown in.

The moment was cut
short by the arrival of a taller, gorgeous woman with angled features upstaged only
by her ample bosom accented by an extremely low cut neckline. The black
material hugged every curve of her body. But I could feel the tension inside me
tighten when she grabbed Xavier’s other hand and purred, “X, it’s been too
long.”

She leaned in and
kissed him on one cheek and then the other, pushing me out of the way to do so.
The doctor shot me an apologetic glance.

“Roxanne… So nice to
see you.”

Roxanne? Son of a
bitch. This was my competition. The only woman he dared to date since Lydia.

She grabbed his hand
and pulled him to her and tucked his arm in hers. He released my hand. Another
glance.

She turned to me and
said, “Please, excuse us, Xavier has some unfinished business he needs to
attend to.”

She pulled him into
the crowd, leaving me standing alone. Marco was nowhere to be found. I don’t
know what I’d been expecting. A fairy tale, maybe. Fucking hope.

The bar wasn’t far
away, so I weaved and excused my way through the horde of guests. I grabbed a
glass of champagne and scanned the crowd for Marco.

A few more steps and
I stopped. Near the band was a dance floor. Twenty or so couples swayed to the
music—many of them quite experienced. In the center, with his arms around
her waist and her fingers twirling his hair, danced Xavier and Roxanne. Groin
to groin they moved with the music. If it had been anyone but Xavier, I would
have admired the sensual nature of the dance, but instead, my blood boiled.

Had he been lying to
me? Was this all a sick game? Had he known she would be here? Fuck hope and fuck
champagne. I turned away from the scene and set a path for the bar stool.

I grabbed the hem of
my dress, holding it in place as I slid onto the high leather seat. The
bartender approached me, but everything he said was in French. So I held up two
fingers in the form of a ‘C’ about the size of a shot glass and mimed the
motions of tossing back a shot. He got the picture. He placed a glass in front
of me and pointed to the array of liquors behind him. I didn’t care. It just
needed to act fast, because this was not the night I imagined. I pointed to an
amber colored liquid. He poured it for me. Brandy. It would have to do. I
kicked it back and allowed the burn to leach through me as I inhaled deeply. He
held up the bottle and pointed to the glass. I nodded.

He filled the glass
and I wasted no time. As the second shot left that delightful warmth in my
belly, Marco approached.

“What are you doing? A
beautiful woman should never drink alone. Besides, that’s not even the good
stuff.” He took a seat beside me.

“So where have you
been?”

He placed his lips to
my ear. “Better question is… Why aren’t you with X?”

I sliced my head
toward the dance floor.

“Dear God, she is
here. I hoped I was wrong but… What is she up to?”

“Humping the doctor apparently.”

He wrapped his arm
around my shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about from Roxanne.”

Just then the two of
them completed a move so suggestive, that it looked as though they might have
sex any minute.

I shot Marco a
disbelieving look.

He turned, raised his
hand and French words flowed from his lips. Soon my shot glass was filled and
he held up his own. “Bottoms up.”

We simultaneously
downed them; we even wiped our mouths on our forearm at the same time and
inhaled deeply in perfect synchronization.

“Just relax.” He
patted my knee.

“Why am I even here? You
could be introducing me to Paris’s dive bars.”

He laughed. “You’re
exactly where you need to be.”

“I find that hard to
believe.” Xavier dipped Roxanne. Something tightened in my chest. It was hard
to determine if it was all the alcohol or hope shattering from the inside out.

“He doesn’t love her.
She was a publicity stunt. You are the one he invited.”

“Great. I can add
publicity stunt, along with prostitute and Celtic Queen to my resume.”

“Stop it. You are not
Roxanne. He didn’t bring you here to satisfy the media.”

The doctor nuzzled
Roxanne’s neck. “I can’t watch this anymore.”

“You know that he’s
in love with you, right?”

I slapped him on the
arm. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny. It’s just sex.”

“He’d be a fool not
to be.” He brushed a strand of my hair off my shoulder and his finger left a
trail of heat. Marco was such a beautiful man and an excellent lover. My mind
wanted to drown in the alcohol and my body wanted to drown in Marco. It was a
dangerous combination.

“You want to leave?”

He grabbed my arm. “No,
Elaine. I’m serious. You were all he talked about since the first time he saw
you two years ago. He sought you out. He’s different with you. Different than
he was with Lydia. The way he looks at you—”

“But it doesn’t
matter.”

“It does because you
love him.”

“It won’t matter on
Sunday.” I sighed.

Fingers long, rough
and masculine slid between mine. It wasn’t Marco as his hands were visible on
the bar. Another hand snaked around my waist and hot breath hit my neck. “I’m
so sorry. I had a few loose ends to tie up.”

Marco’s smirk was
hard to miss.

“So that’s what they
call it these days.”

The doctor held
himself tight against my back. And he whispered, “See, she doesn’t even make me
hard.” He pressed his pelvis against my back. “But you… Come dance with me.”

“Isn’t that too much
touching?”

“There are enough
people here to keep everything in check.”

He spun me on the bar
stool and grabbed my hand, leading us to the floor. My reluctance slowed our journey.

A white-haired
gentleman in a white suit jacket stopped us. “Dr. Vincent.”

“Dr. Monte, it’s good
to see you.” The two men gave each other a stiff handshake.

The older man’s curls
bounced as he dipped his head. His hand clasped mine and he placed a gentle but
wet kiss on the back of it. I wanted to wipe my hand on my dress, but he wouldn’t
let go. He stared at me, but his words were intended for Xavier. “Do tell, dear
friend, the room has been abuzz wondering who this beauty might be.”

My heart raced
waiting for his answer. Would he say colleague? Friend?

He wrapped his arm
tighter around my waist. “This is my Elaine.”

The old man’s stare grew
unnerving. He kissed my hand again. I tried not to show my shock at Xavier’s
words.

“Xavier, you are one lucky
man.” He released my hand.

“More so than you
know.” They both smiled. “Dr. Monte, if you’ll excuse us, I want to get at
least one dance in before I have to speak.”

He gave a slight bow.
“Doctor. Elaine.” Dr. Monte turned and Xavier pulled me to the floor.

Once our feet were
planted on the dance floor, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. He
was so warm, so tall, so…hard. His erection grazed my stomach. I looked up and
met his gaze.

His eyes were dark. Not
their usual blue. “I told you, she means nothing.”

“If you say so. It’s
probably too late to tell you this, but I can’t dance.”

His arm pressed on
the small of my back and he lifted our clutched hands.

Hips swayed to the
music, causing a delicious friction to build. “You don’t need to know how. Just
follow my lead. It’s just like making love. Close your eyes and let your body
feel mine.”

The temperature rose
six hundred degrees with his comparison. God, he felt so good. The words kept
echoing through my head, “My Elaine.” I needed to stop. Nothing good could come
of my conventional notions, but he felt so right. The scent of sandalwood and
musk filled my nostrils as I laid my head against his hard chest.

The hand on my back
rubbed and soothed. He sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. Everything
is perfect. And unlike Roxanne,” he wiggled his hips and rubbed his rock hard
cock against my belly, “you have this effect on me, always.” His hand dropped
to my hip and rested on the curve of my ass. “God, I wish…”

“You wish what?”

“You don’t know how
badly I want to make love to you. To see you wake up in one of my shirts. To
roll over and suck on your nipples, while I bury myself inside you. You make me
want things that simply aren’t possible. Things I have no business wanting.”

I couldn’t breathe. My
mouth grew thick from nervousness.

“Why are you doing
this?” Our bodies rubbed together, my nipples hard under the fabric; I wanted
him as much as he wanted me. Probably more.

He dipped his head
and whispered against my lips, “Because I need you to know how I feel.”

“Why now?”

“Because it’s safe. You’re
safe. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you? And I don’t mean a kiss
like the one from earlier.” He shivered. “Just kiss you.”

“No.” But I wished he
would.

“The moment I first
saw you, I wanted you, but I wasn’t ready. Lydia had just passed. I needed to
believe that I would never love again…” He broke his gaze and cleared his
throat.

What did he just say?
Did he say what I think he said?

“Why did you wait so
long to contact me?”

He spoke, but he didn’t
look me in the eye. “Because I wanted you too much. I can’t do conventional. I’ve
never known a normal life and you deserve one. But this burning inside wouldn’t
let go. Marco brought us a bottle of cognac one night and suggested I bring you
to Paris for a week to get you out of my system.”