Doctor's Delight(7)
Standing on the veranda, Cherry saw her friends off and then stood staring out at the garden. Hire a male escort? Ridiculous. There was no way she could hire a male escort.
Could she?
Going inside, she shut the door with a decisive snap, but her movements back into the lounge were slow. Picking up the romance novel, she looked at the cover.
The hero and heroine entwined in a heated embrace. Something she’d never experienced in her life.
Their job is to please you. You, Cherry. You can have that closeness. Susie’s words echoed in her mind.
Going into the bedroom, she looked at herself in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was short, plus-sized, an over-blown hourglass. She had nice hair, thick and brown and bouncy, and her eyes were pretty, so she’d been told. Not quite blue or green, just a shade between each, outlined with thick black lashes. But there was nothing remarkable about her face.
She was plain in a pretty way, or pretty in a plain way, however you looked at it.
Cherry sighed, a wave of longing going through her.
No man had ever found her pretty enough to pursue. To kiss and hold and want to take to his bed. But a male escort… Their job is to please you. You, Cherry. You can have that closeness.
Frizz meowing around her legs made her look down and she smiled sadly. “Yeah, maybe if I had the guts, Frizz, I would do it. But I’m not like Susie. I can’t pay a man to make love to me.”
That night in bed, her dream man invaded her dreams once again, and she awoke in the morning with the familiar yearning of just wanting to wake up in a man’s arms.
How bloody pathetic. Scowling, she got out of bed and went into the shower.
As the warm water sluiced the soap from her body, the now familiar words went through her. Their job is to please you. You, Cherry. You can have that closeness.
Now
And now here she was, three days later with an appointment to meet a man in a hotel, a man who would see to her every desire. Who would kiss her, cuddle her, and make love to her.
A man she’d paid to do all that, so how real was it?
Cherry looked at her reflection in the window glass. As real as she’d probably ever get. “Looks like you’ve got a date with sex.”
Chapter Two
Rick looked around the gathering with jaded eyes. The same kind of crowd. The GPs, both those up-and-coming and the established, the surgeons, and their wives and girlfriends. The wives were dressed expensively but discreetly, the epitome of good taste, while the girlfriends hung onto every word their boyfriends uttered. Apart from a couple of women whom he knew genuinely loved their boyfriends, the other couple he was sure were in it for the money and prestige. Ah, to be the wife of a general practioner, or even better, a surgeon.
And one of those barracudas was heading right for him. Annabelle, tall, slim, and gorgeous with her blonde hair up in an elegant chignon and her make-up perfect. Diamonds glittered in her earlobes. Her bright blue-eyed gaze was fixed on him, and her laughter was light and gay as she came to a stop before him and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, barely brushing his skin. Her perfume was expensive, just like the woman herself.
“Richard,” she cooed. “How delightful of you to come.”
“Rick, please.”
“Rick.” Gaze sweeping over his face, she took his arm. “And how are you finding our little city, Rick?”
“Lovely. It’s why I chose to come here.”
“Of course you did.” Reaching out, she picked up a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and handed it to him before taking one for herself. “And how are you settling in?”
“Fine. I start work next week, quite looking forward to it.”
“Ah yes. Your own practice, wasn’t it?”
“No.” Rick noted Annabelle’s father glance over towards them and smile widely. Obviously he’d noticed his barracuda of a daughter zeroing in for a bite and approved. Rick looked back at Annabelle, meeting her gaze squarely. In spiked heels, she matched his six foot two inches admirably. She was one tall woman. “I’m in the Hallery Practice.”
“That’s right.” She made a little moue of her red lip sticked mouth. “You do have plans to start your own practice one day, though?”
The Barracuda was circling, weighing up her prey. Rick smiled slightly. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” One elegant brow, plucked painfully thin, arched.
“I’ll see how I go, check out the competition.” Oh-ho, The Barracuda liked that term all right. “Find my feet.”
“Delightful plan.” Taking a sip of her champagne, she glanced around. “Let me introduce you around.”
And so went the evening. Rick smiled, shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, all the things one should do when coming into an established circle of professionals, most of whom he’d be working with at some time. He wouldn’t have minded so much if The Barracuda wasn’t listening intently to his answers to everyone’s questions. No doubt she was mentally notching up her approval and disapproval on a mental scoreboard. The final score would dictate if she’d come after him hungrily or drop him like the proverbial hot brick.