Doctor's Delight (20 page)

She was so out
of her depth that she didn’t know what to say. Say something,
numbskull! “I um…I don’t…it’s cold.”

He laughed,
making her close her eyes and almost shrivel in embarrassment.
Thank God he couldn’t see her face!

“Ah, Cherry, my
little innocent,” he murmured, amused. “You know how to make a hard
day suddenly a lot brighter.”

“I do?”
Mentally chastising herself, she amended, “I mean, thanks. I think.
Hard day at the office?” She kicked herself. Surely to goodness she
could think of something sexy to say, something witty, something—
“Does Dr Discipline need a visit from Nurse Naughty?”

The moment the
words left her mouth, she could have died. Right there. On the
spot. Just curled up and died!

Horrified,
biting her lip, she stared unseeingly at the far wall.

There was
silence on the other end of the phone, and she had visions of Rick
grimacing at her clumsy reply. Oh God, she wanted to die right
now!

“I’m coming
right over,” Rick said, and hung up.

Cherry leaped
to her feet. “Hello? Rick?”

There was no
answer so she put the phone down with trembling hands. Placing her
fingers to her mouth, she glanced around the room. He was coming
here? After what she’d said, Rick was coming here? To play Dr
Discipline and Nurse Naughty? Oh God, surely not.
No no no
.
She didn’t know how to role play, she didn’t – please, don’t let
him bring the speculum!

She had to ring
Susie for advice. No, she didn’t. Maxie? No. No way could she ask
her friends how to role play for sex games.

Biting her lip,
she wrung her hands. Oh boy, how did she get herself into this
position? Could she say no to Rick? Did she want to say no? Did she
want…she shivered…discipline?

Racing to the
bathroom, she checked her appearance. Same old Cherry, just that
her eyes were a lot bigger – fear - and darker – fear - and her
cheeks were flushed - fear. Or was that desire? Were the shine in
her eyes and the tremble in her fingers desire or fear?

Hells bells,
she didn’t know. Her nerves were jangling, her stomach fluttering,
and her pulses leaping in her wrists.

Going to the
kitchen, she downed a glass of water, then dashed back to the
bathroom and brushed her teeth. She didn’t know what to do next.
Change her clothes? Try and appear sexier? Scratch that, she
decided, no way she could look sexier even if she had a team of
fashion experts at her beck and call.

She was still
wringing her hands when the decisive knock on the door had her
jumping into the air. Stepping into the hallway, she stared at the
door.

Dr Discipline
had arrived. For an insane second she wondered if she should go and
put on her clean nurse’s uniform.

The knock came
again, and to her it sounded definite. Deliberate.

Swallowing, she
walked to the door, wiping her palms on her pants. Reaching out,
she unlocked the door and swung it open.

Standing there,
his thumbs hooked into his front pockets, Rick looked down at her.
His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his slacks were
wrinkle-free, and his stance was relaxed. A lock of dark hair fell
rakishly over his brow. His twinkling gaze swept over her face and
settled on her hand where it was wringing the heck out of the
bottom of her blouse. “Nurse Naughty feeling a little nervous?”

“No,” she
squeaked.

Throwing his
head back, he laughed uproarisly.

She felt like a
fool.

Looking down at
her again, Rick continued laughing, hooked his arm around her waist
and drew her against him. Lowering his head, he rested his forehead
against hers and looked her directly in the eyes. Grinning, he said
softly, “You were nervous, love, admit it.”

With his arms
around her, she suddenly felt warm and safe, and her jangling
nerves started to ease. The blush on her cheeks didn’t, though, but
she met his gaze gamely. “Okay.”

“I love teasing
you.” His eyes continued to twinkle merrily. “I love seeing that
blush in your cheeks.”

“I’m glad to
provide you with amusement,” she said tartly.

“Sugar, you
make me smile and laugh.”

“I felt a
fool.”

“You make me
hot and hard, too. So very hot and hard.” The sudden heat in his
voice and the darkening of his eyes had her nerves starting to
jangle again. Just as fast and disarming, his tone and eyes
softened. “You make me feel a whole range of emotions, Cherry. You
make my day worth living.”

Whoa. Her heart
started to pound a tattoo in her chest. This was getting a little
too deep, a little too quick.

He must have
read something in her expression, because he smiled slow and easy
before dropping a soft, yet still nerve-tingling kiss on her lips.
Lifting his head, he murmured, “Unfortunately, sweet Cherry, I
can’t stay. I’m on my way to the hospital. I’m on-call
tonight.”

Relief and
disappointment both poured through Cherry. “Oh.”

Sliding his
hands from her waist, he rested them on her hips and straightened.
“Wish I could stay and show you what fun role-playing can be, but
that’s going to have to wait for another day.” He winked.

Feeling more
sure of herself, she arched one brow. “So you’re on-call?”

“Yep.” His
thumbs drew lazy circles on her hips.

“So what would
you have done if I’d met you at the door dressed as a naughty
nurse?”

His grin was
wide. “Oh, I know you. You wouldn’t have.”

His assuredness
galled her a little. “You don’t know that for sure.”

“Oh, I do.”
Leaning down, he kissed the tip of her nose.

“But what if I
had?” she persisted. “Then what?”

“I’d have gone
to work with a hard-on. Not a good look at the hospital.” With a
sigh, he stepped back. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I
understand.” Leaning against the door frame, she watched as he took
out a card from his back pocket and handed it to her.

“I’m invited to
a dinner in a fortnight. Please come with me.”

“Dinner?”
Cherry looked down at the guilt-edged card. “Oh, I don’t know.”

“It’s for me
and a partner,” he continued. “That partner being you.” Reaching
out, he twirled one of her silky locks around his finger and gave
it a gentle tug. “Girlfriend.”

Girlfriend?
Looking up at Rick, she felt the word practically slide through her
senses. She’d never been any man’s girlfriend, not even as a
teenager. He thought of her as his girlfriend. A warm flush went
through her.

He smiled down
at her. “I have to go. Call me.”

“I don’t have
your number.”

He looked blank
for a second, then shook his head. “Of course. Sometimes I can be a
bit vague.”

“Not where it
counts,” she said, then immediately covered her mouth.
“Umm...sorry.”

“Cheeky chit.”
Amused yet again, he bent down and caught her mouth in a kiss that
was fast and deep and hard. His tongue swept through her, leaving
his taste, his mouth controlling the kiss, drawing from her,
pulling at the strings of desire inside her. Lifting his head, he
licked his lips. “Yummy.”

She was still
standing there in a daze when he took a card from his wallet and
tucked it down the front of her blouse, his fingertips unerringly
pushing it between her breasts. He grinned devilishly at her,
winked, and walked back down the path towards his car.

She couldn’t
believe the way he made her feel, so desirable, so cherished, so
sexy. So warm. Impulsively, she stepped forward. “Rick?”

He turned and
looked back at her. “Yes?”

“I’ll come to
the party with you.”

His grin was
unabashedly pleased. He gave her a quick salute, strode to his car,
got inside and drove away.

Closing the
door behind her, Cherry leaned back against it and smiled dreamily
down at Frizz and Sugar, who were eyeing her with the expectation
of dinner.

“Mmmm,” she
said. “He’s a catch all right. And right now, he’s all mine.”

With a little
giggle of pure joy, she slid his card from between her breasts,
then she read the dinner invite card in her other hand.

And went ice
cold.

Chapter
Eight

Cherry looked
up at the row of dress shops and felt ill. Shopping for clothes was
something she hated. All the pretty clothes were too small, all the
plus-sized fashions available in bold colours and large patterns
that seemed to scream out ‘Look at me! I’m fat! Too fat for pretty,
dainty patterns!’

Blah. Wrinkling
her nose, she went into yet another dress shop. Yep, just as she’d
suspected, the dainty dresses with cute little patterns on them
were for the smaller-sized women. The only dresses there in her
size had big, bold, red and black flowers all over them. Like she’d
wear red and black anyway – not in this lifetime.

She’d have
walked out then and there except that she needed something nice to
wear to the dinner party. When she walked into Margaret Clarke’s
home on the arm of Dr Rick Reed, she wanted to do him proud, to
look lovely.

Inwardly, she
cringed. If she’d known who was holding the party, she’d have
refused to go, but after telling him she’d accompany him to the
party, and he’d been so pleased, there was no way she could back
down.

That and the
fact that Susie had threatened to kick her backside if she even
dared to contemplate cancelling. Cherry had argued that a
fancy-arsed party full of local GPs and surgeons wasn’t her scene,
and Susie had almost given her an arse-kicking then and there, so
she’d ended up buckling under her friend’s tirade and now here she
was, combing through clothes in a hellish search for the right
dress.

Maybe she
should go in a pants suit, only most of the women would be in
cocktail dresses, she supposed. Or so Maxie had told her.

Hell. In more
ways than one.

Exiting yet
another shop, she cringed as she spotted a tall, beautiful blonde
walking towards her. Annabelle Forbes. Schooling her features into
a smile, she took a deep breath and walked up the path towards her,
only to have Annabelle give her a cold stare and sweep right past
her.

Rolling her
eyes, she turned into another dress shop, fully expecting to exit
with nothing. Instead, she spied the dream of all dresses on a
mannequin. It was beautiful, the material draping from the little
straps on the shoulders to sweep down to the floor in a swath of
delicate silk. It was black on both sides, from the straps down to
the floor, with a pale lilac swath going from the bodice to the
floor. A delicate, lacy throw lay over the shoulders.

Slimming, it
would be slimming.

Heart in her
mouth, she searched the rack, unable to believe it when her size
was available. Going into the dressing room, she shed her pants and
blouse and slid the gown over her head. It settled over her,
draping to the floor. It skimmed her curves without clinging or
bunching up.

Studying
herself in the mirror, Cherry smiled. It was the perfect dress.
Unbelievably, it was the perfect dress. She was still a plus-sized
woman, but she looked classy, pretty, well-dressed. She loved
it.

The price would
normally have made her blanch, but she paid it without a qualm and
left the dress shop with her brightly-bagged purchase swinging in
her hand. When Annabelle stepped out of the dress shop next door,
Cherry beamed at her, not even minding when the she raked her form
with a not-quite sneering expression.

Nothing was
going to spoil her day. She’d found the perfect dress and wasn’t
going to embarrass Rick. For the first time in a long time, she
felt sure of herself, confident.

Once at home,
she couldn’t help but try on the dress once more, feeling almost
like a fairy-tale princess.

Frizz and Sugar
were more interested in the bag and only spared her a brief glance
as she twirled in front of the mirror, looking over her shoulder to
get the effect.

“You have no
idea, you two,” she informed the cats. “You only have one coat and
don’t have to worry about the fit.”

Frizz went back
into the bag and lay down, leaving his ample bottom sticking out.
Sugar swatted him and his tail lashed around. Sugar pounced on it
and a wild game of tag involving the bag and Cherry’s blankets
ensued.

Leaving them to
play happily, Cherry searched her shoe box and found a gold pair of
strappy sandals she’d worn to a wedding. Holding them up, she
frowned.
Gold with the black and lilac? Mmmm…maybe not.
Another search produced a pair of medium-heeled black pumps with a
lacy appearance, and she slipped them on. The hem of the dress was
now about three centimetres off the floor. Perfect. She had a
little black lacy-style clutch purse that would be ideal.

Taking the
dress off carefully, she slid a clear plastic bag over it and hung
it up in the wardrobe. Yes, for once she was actually looking
forward to getting dressed up and going out. At least she wouldn’t
embarrass Rick.

Humming to
herself, she left the bedroom and went to make some salad for
lunch.

~*~

Leaning back
against the kitchen bench, Rick blew on the hot surface of his cup
of coffee and watched his sister moodily eat a bowl of cereal.

Donna was
glancing at her mobile phone where it sat in the middle of the
table.

“Maybe David’s
golfing,” he suggested.

She glared at
him. “Why should I care?”

“Because you
want him to phone you. Like always.”

“And just what
do you mean by that smart crack?”

“You do this
every time, Don. You get into a snit about something that David
says, and you come to either my place or Mum’s to sulk until he
rings and apologizes, or he comes looking for you.”