The Doctor She Always Dreamed Of (12 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

O
N
S
UNDAY
MORNING
Derrick woke and glanced at the clock. Almost eleven. He hadn't allowed himself the luxury of sleeping in for months. He stretched, feeling completely relaxed for the first time in a long time.

He owed it all to Kira.

Things were stable up with Mom and Dad. The new home health care agency she'd brought in was providing quality aides and therapists and they were showing up as scheduled. According to Dad, Mom was improving a little bit each day.

In the office, it'd only taken Kira one week to straighten things out. Not even a week, four days. Patient billing was all caught up, the medication nook had been organized alphabetically, and any expired doses discarded. There were no longer boxes stacked in his hallways or dozens of messages piled on his desk, waiting for a response. She effectively and efficiently screened his calls, dealt with problems, and managed the patients, the staff, and him with ease. She'd even negotiated two contracts for pre-employment physicals and drug screening, getting him a higher rate than he'd gotten on the one he'd negotiated on his own last month.

And she sure prettied up his work environment in her classy clothes and sexy shoes.

He turned onto his side, wondering what he'd do with an entire free day now that he didn't have to deal with paying bills, managing supplies, and catching up on paperwork.

A noise in the hallway caught his attention. He listened, heard it again and jumped out of bed. Someone was definitely out there. Damn alarm system. A total waste of money. It should be blaring to scare off the intruder. It wasn't.

He scanned the room, looking for something he could use as a weapon. Heart pounding he ran to his desk. Where the hell was his letter opener? He moved some papers around, uncovered the stapler, and picked it up.

Great idea, idiot, a staple to the side of the head would surely incapacitate a big, burly criminal
. He heard another noise, saw the tape dispenser, picked it up and checked the weight. It'd have to do. Maybe if he could catch the intruder off guard he could slam him in the side of the head with it. He grabbed the stapler, too, backup, just in case. Then he crept to the door.

Footsteps were coming closer.

He turned the knob, carefully, as quietly as he could, and slid the door open, slowly, just a crack, enough to see a body passing by. Perfect timing! He whipped the door open, sending it slamming into the wall, raised the heavy tape dispenser high into the air and oomph...took an elbow right to the ribs. Ouch.

The intruder was small, but quick and after that lightning-fast jab he took off running. Derrick gave chase, following as he rounded the corner heading back to the waiting room. The guy's ponytail swished back and forth, long for a man. Leggings cut off at the knees cupped a very fine, and if he wasn't mistaken, very female ass. An ass he recognized. “Kira?”

She jerked to a stop and turned to face him, doubling over, a hand cupped to her chest. “Jeez,” she said, panting. “You scared me.”

“
I
scared
you
?” Now that he'd stopped he noticed the pain in his ribs and rubbed the area where she'd struck him. “You hit me.”

“You tried to attack me from behind...” she glanced at one of his hands “...with a tape dispenser?” Then she glanced at the other. “And a stapler?”

Yes, well, no need to dwell on those poor choices
. He set them down on the counter to his right, behind a box of tissues. “How did you get here?”

“The train.”

“I mean to the office?”

She lifted up her sneaker and wiggled her foot. “I walked. We city girls are big walkers.”

“What are you doing here on a Sunday?”

Apparently done answering questions, she just stood there, staring back at him, her gaze traveling down.

Ah yes
. That's the moment he remembered he hadn't taken the time to slip on pants prior to confronting his burglar, and there he stood, in the hallway of his office, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.

“You live here?” she asked.

“Give me a minute to put some clothes on then I'll explain.” He returned to his office/bedroom and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. While there, he also grabbed the two prescriptions he'd planned to give her on Monday.

He found Kira in the staff lounge making a pot of coffee and took a minute to admire her sexy figure from the doorway. While naked would be his first choice, he sure liked it when she wore those tight fitting leggings. “You first,” he said.

Taking two mugs down from the cabinet she said, “My office is a mess.” She turned to face him, leaning her hip against the counter, crossing her hands in front of her. “I ordered two metal shelving units to use for storage. You approved the purchase.”

“I did.”

“Well, they were delivered on Friday. Since Krissy's around to watch Mom today and there weren't any patients scheduled, I figured I'd come up in clothes I can get dirty in, put the shelving units together, sort through all the papers and supply boxes, and get everything organized.”

“Why didn't you ask me to put them together for you?”

She looked up at him. “Because I don't need a man to do things for me, because you're even busier during the week than I am, and I thought you were supposed to be visiting your parents this weekend.”

“Change of plans.” He walked into the lounge, pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “My brother, the one finishing up his doctorate in physical therapy, flew in to meet with the physical therapist taking care of Mom.”

“Oh, boy.”

“Not to make trouble. Just to check on Mom's progress and collaborate on the exercise plan.” He held up both hands. “At least that's what he told me.”

The coffee started coming out. Kira moved the glass pot to fill one mug then the other before sliding it back under the dripping brew. Then she prepared his coffee the way he liked it, same as she'd done for him all week. A man could get used to a woman taking such good care of him.

She joined him at the table.

He slid the prescriptions toward her.

She stared down at them.

“For your mom. Relatively new on the market. Both effective for anti-anxiety and PTSD.”

“Derrick—”

He didn't let her finish. “I numbered them. First one had a seventy-two percent success rate in clinical trials, very few side effects. The second one had an eighty-four percent success rate, more side effects, but easily managed with other medications.”

She set her hand on his. “I know you want to help, but you have no idea what I've been through. I finally have Mom in a manageable place. The tiniest change to our routine can ruin everything.” She picked up the prescriptions and tapped them on the table. “Mom's smart. I try to slip in a medication she doesn't recognize and she'll refuse to take all of her meds. It'll be a fight, morning and night, for days, until I can get her back into a routine.” She sat back. “It's exhausting.”

He could only imagine.

“She'll accuse me of trying to poison her. She could get agitated and aggressive.”

“You have the prescriptions,” he told her. “Research the medications. See what you think. Try one. Don't try one. The choice is yours. I just thought it'd be nice if you could invite a guy over to dinner sometime, if you wanted to.”

“Yeah, right. What guy in his right mind would want to have dinner at my place with me and Mom?”

He looked her straight in the eyes. “I would.” She gave him a smile so sad he felt compelled to lighten the mood. “I mean I'd invite you to my place.” He used both hands to display his surroundings. “But I don't have a stove. And since you work here all week, you probably wouldn't find it all that exciting.”

That got a happy smile out of her. He liked making her smile, a challenge, so rewarding when he succeeded.

“Thank you.” She held up the prescriptions. “Really.” She set them back down. “Now enough about me. Your turn. Why are you living in your office?”

He looked down into his mug. “I'll start off by saying everyone seems to think doctors are rich. Plenty are, but they're usually the ones who have been doing it for a while. Most of us relatively new ones are trying to dig out of massive debt from student loans.” He took a sip of coffee.

“All through medical school I knew I wanted to own my own family practice. For years I've scrimped and saved what money I could to make that dream a reality. Even with a loan from my parents, when my accountant and I looked at all the numbers I realized I couldn't afford rent on this place and an apartment in addition to all of my other expenses. So I decided to stick a pullout sofa in my office, add a shower to my private bathroom, and live here for a while, with no one the wiser.”

“Until an employee snuck in here on her day off.”

He was so happy to see her, to get to spend the day alone with her, he couldn't care less that she'd caught him.

“I figured it'd take at least a year before I could get my own place.” He took another sip of coffee. “A house this time, something small, but with a yard where I can set up cornhole and dig out a fire pit, like at my parents' place. But the practice took off and it's doing so much better than I'd hoped it'd be doing at this time.” He set down his mug. “Now I have money for a small down payment, but no time to go looking for a place.”

“You could do it today,” she suggested.

“No I can't. I need to stay here to help you.”
I want to stay here and help you
.

She tilted her head to the side. “I thought we already established I don't need your help.”

Well, she was going to get it whether she needed it or not. “You said there were two shelving units. How about we make it fun?” He rubbed both hands together. “You put together one. I'll do the other. Bet I can get mine finished before you can.”

“You and your betting.” She shook her head. “What are the stakes?”

Hmmm. “Winner gets to choose what we do after we're done.” He gave her a look that made his choice of activity clear. Speaking of which, he'd better run and change the sheets on his bed.

“Right. Like I'll take that bet.”

“You're not working for WCHC anymore,” he pointed out. “Can't use that as an excuse.”

“Derrick.” Her voice took on a parent scolding a child tone. “You are my boss. Propositioning me is wrong on so many levels.”

“The way you've taken charge of things around here, I don't feel like your boss at all. I feel like
you're my
boss, which I'm perfectly okay with, by the way.” He set his arms on the table and leaned in toward her. “Lucky for us,
I
have no qualms about sleeping with
my
boss.”

“Stop it.”

“Fine.” He sat back. “Then you choose.”

She thought about it. “Okay. Got it.” She pushed back her chair and stood.

“Wait.” He stood too. “Aren't you going to tell me?”

She took off running down the hall, yelling over her shoulder, “I'll tell you when I win.”

* * *

“Easy, no tool assembly, my ass,” Kira said, frustrated, the thumb she'd just pinched in the stupid shelving unit starting to throb. “Mine is obviously defective.” She glared at Derrick who sat in front of the unit he'd put together quickly and easily, smiling.

“I offered to help you.”

“I don't need your help,” she snapped. Then she apologized. “Sorry.”

“Hey.” He crawled over to her. “There's nothing wrong with needing help sometimes.” He took the shelf from her hands, turned it around and snapped it into place then gave her a side-eyed glance. “Men are just better at some things than women.”

She gave him a shove.

“Not a lot of things, mind you,” he said, teasing. “But stuff like assembling shelving units.” He moved out of reach. “Changing tires. Barbequing.”

“Being obnoxious.”

“Definitely being obnoxious,” he said, nodding with a big grin on his face.

Easy as that her frustration disappeared. “Okay. You can help me.”

“What? No please?”

Damn him. “How about I give you a—”

“Kiss?” he finished, rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him. “Of course you can give me a kiss.”

She'd missed this playful side of him and having fun with him. And man, oh, man had she missed the feel of his body pressed to hers, or, as in their present position, her body pressed to his. But kissing him was a terrible idea, no matter how much she wanted to.

He shifted beneath her, sliding her legs to the side so she straddled his hips. “I'm waiting,” he said.

She dropped her forehead to his shoulder. “This is a bad idea.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “On that we'll have to agree to disagree.”

“We have no future together.” It would never work.

“All I want is a kiss.”

He wanted more, a point he'd made clear after they'd had sex in his parents' yard. She lifted her head so she could stare into his beautiful blue eyes. “What happens after the kiss?”

He cupped the back of her head, applying a gentle downward pressure. “Let's find out.”

Their lips touched and Kira's resistance melted. “Damn you.” She kissed him again, deeper this time. He hardened beneath her, his sweatpants and her leggings allowing her to feel the full firm length of him. Kira took full advantage of it, sitting up, resting her hands on his shoulders, rocking her hips, rubbing all the way up, then all the way down, slowly, again and again. So good.

“Atta girl.” Derrick cupped her breasts. “Use me. Take what you want. I'm all yours.”