The MD's Mistress / The Money Man's Seduction: The MD's Mistress. Leslie LaFoyЧитать онлайн книгу.
he was at the side of her bed, his fingers on the pulse in her wrist, his glance directed to the blood pressure and heart rate monitor to one side.
“I’m okay,” she insisted, wanting nothing more than for him to stop touching her. No, what she really wanted was to be swept into his arms for another scorching kiss.
Ain’t gonna happen, Becca told herself, except in her dreams.
“Well, your vitals are normal,” Seth admitted, gazing down at her in concern. “Do you see now why I insisted you accept that billionaire’s offer?” Before she could respond, he added, “The mountains are ideal for resting and recovering. No distractions, fresh air and a housekeeper to take care of you.”
“I suppose,” Becca said, blinking against the tears misting her eyes. While she knew he was concerned for her as a doctor, she couldn’t help feeling he would be happy to see her go.
Her eyelids were losing the blinking battle, so she closed them to staunch the flow. “I think I’d like to take a nap now.”
“I think you should.”
He didn’t move for long seconds. Becca felt sure the gathering tears were about to escape and embarrass her. Finally, she heard the soft swish as he turned and headed to the doorway. “I’ll be in later to check on you.”
“Umm,” she murmured, as if she were half-asleep.
Three days later, Becca was showered, dressed and in a wheelchair, waiting for a nurse to wheel her to the exit where the limo would be waiting for her.
She was tired, from the shower and dressing, she told herself. And though she felt a bit depressed, she told herself it had nothing to do with not having seen Seth in three days.
Becca firmed her lips into a flat, determined line. She would not allow herself to go into a blue funk over an arrogant, overbearing…absolutely wonderful man. Uhh, scratch the last adjective.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the man haunting her dreams strolled into her room.
“Ready to go, I see,” Seth said, coming to a halt mere inches from her chair.
“Waiting for someone to wheel me down,” Becca said, somehow managing to sound cheery…when all she really wanted to do was weep, and tell him she didn’t want to go.
“It may be a few minutes. I understand the staff is very busy.” He simply stood there, looking at her, so close, yet so far away.
For a minute.
Becca stopped thinking, breathing, when he leaned forward over her. He placed his hands on the armrests of the wheelchair, to lean closer.
“Wha…wha…” she muttered, unable to force the full word from her suddenly parched throat.
“You will let the housekeeper take care of you,” he said, so close now his breath whispered over her lips, causing havoc in every cell she possessed.
Beyond speech, Becca nodded.
“Good.” He smiled; she smelled mint on his breath, and yearned to taste it. “I’ll miss you in the O.R.”
Becca deflated like a pierced balloon. Of course, hadn’t he at one time admitted she was the best O.R. nurse he had ever worked with?
She shut her eyes in private misery, and wasn’t aware of him closing the inches between them. The touch of his lips on hers startled her and set her pulse pounding.
Seth’s kiss was soft, gentle, undemanding and heart-wrenchingly sweet. Within a moment, before she could even think to respond, he moved away.
Becca lowered her head and her lashes.
With the tip of his finger, he tilted her face up to meet his steady gaze. His amber eyes had darkened to a shade of brown she had not seen before.
“Get well,” he said. “Take care of yourself, little girl.”
Girl? Little girl!
A wave of anger crashed over Becca, washing away her misery along with her caution and good sense.
“Little girl,” she protested, her voice elevated. “I’m not a little girl, Doctor. I’m a woman.”
“Tell me about it.”
As he finished speaking, a nurse breezed into the room, distracting Becca from wondering about the odd note in his quiet voice, the flash of emotion in his now dark eyes.
“Hi, I’m Jen, sorry to keep you waiting,” the young woman said, bending to flip the locks from the chair’s wheels. “It’s been a busy day.” Smiling, she moved to the back of the chair. “Ready to go? Your chariot awaits outside.”
Seth stepped back as Jen rolled the chair to the doorway. “Doctor,” she said politely, smiling as she moved past him and started down the corridor.
“Come back healthy, Rebecca. I need you…in the O.R.”
Seth’s quiet voice floated down the corridor after her.
Clutching the chair arms, she fought against the sting in her eyes. She had known all along he wasn’t interested in her in any personal way. She was a good O.R. nurse.
No! she thought, lifting her head and angling her jaw. She was a terrific O.R. nurse. And when she was completely back up to speed, she silently vowed, she would not torture herself by returning to work for him.
Maybe.
When Jen rolled the chair outside the electric doors, Becca couldn’t get out of the chair and into the impressive black stretch limo fast enough. She did not look back.
Seth stood rigid behind the large, heavy plate-glass door. A strange sensation invaded his stomach—emptiness? He shrugged the thought aside.
He didn’t have time to worry about a stubborn woman. He didn’t really need her in the O.R.; there were plenty of good—no, excellent—nurses waiting, hoping to take her place.
Yet he didn’t move away from the door. He stood there, watching until after she had disappeared inside the limo. Hell, he was missing her already and the car hadn’t yet pulled away from the building.
Becca. A pang in his chest startled him.
Dammit, she never so much as glanced back.
* * *
In a word, the limousine was plush. There was a small cooler holding snacks, and a bar with an ice-filled bucket chilling a bottle of champagne.
Curious, and hungry, as the lunch carts had just started to be pushed along the hospital corridor as she was being wheeled out, Becca investigated the bounty. Caviar, she marveled, the outrageously expensive stuff.
Expensive but gross, she thought, making a face. Thankfully there were several different kinds of cheeses and crackers and a bunch of plump black grapes. Yum, that was more like it.
Popping the cork on the bottle, she poured the golden, bubbly liquid into a real crystal flute and made a meal of the cheese, crackers, fruit and champagne…three glasses of champagne.
After sealing what was left of the champagne with the foil cap and packing away the remains of the food, Becca made herself comfortable by curling up on the butter-soft seat and promptly fell asleep.
Becca didn’t know where she was; the setting was lush but unfamiliar. She was in a freshwater pool, serenely floating naked in the cool water.
It was a peaceful, quiet place, a secret bower with heavy foliage and masses of bright-hued flowers on the banks surrounding the pool. And there was a waterfall, a gentle flow cascading into the sparkling water.
Lovely. She was alone but unafraid, somehow knowing this was where she belonged.
There came a splash, not loud, but as if a fish had leapt with joy in the