Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“Don’t tell Dr. Feil I’m sick.” She tries to laugh. “Promise you won’t.”
“Who needs him when you have me?” I swipe my thumb over her chin. “I’ll take the best care of you.”
“Your pet patients are lucky to have you, Dr. Hunt.”
“I’m lucky to have you…” My voice trails as I consider the words I want to say to her. “To take care of tonight, Delia.”
“I’m sorry I ruined our perfect night,” she says as she gazes into my eyes.
“You’ve ruined nothing.” I reach for her hands. “I’m going to get you up to your feet.”
“Okay.” Her voice is soft and edged with exhaustion.
I tug her up to her feet and then without so much as another word I scoop her into my arms just as I did the night her toe was injured.
She rests her arm over my shoulder. “What would I do without you?”
As tempted as I am to ask her the same question, I don’t. Instead I answer hers. “You don’t need to find that out tonight. I’m here to take care of you.”
“Thank you.”
I should be the one thanking her for allowing me this privilege. “Let’s get you tucked into bed.”
She nods silently, her gaze searching my face for something that she seems to find because her lips part in a soft smile.
“I’ve never been cared for by a nude doctor before.” She rests her cheek against my shoulder. “Your bedside manner is second to none.”
I start the trek toward the bed. “How would you rate my in bed manner?”
“That’s a solid fifty-million out of ten.”
I chuckle as I stop mid-step to look at her face. “That good, huh?”
“That spectacular.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Delia
“You missed the chance to feel Caribbean sand on your feet.”
I turn to glance at Donovan. We’re sitting in one of the dining areas enjoying our last meal together before the ship docks back in Miami. Although the last day and a half of our trip wasn’t everything I hoped it would be, we did salvage the past few hours.
Since I was feeling stronger, we made love in his stateroom early this morning. The sun filtered in through the windows as I clung tightly to him. I knew it would be the last time I’d feel so fulfilled with a man. I tried to savor every second, every sensation, and when I came for the last time feeling him inside of me, tears fell from my eyes.
I was grateful that my face was buried in his neck as I rode him to orgasm.
“I’m not sad about that.” I smile. “This trip was memorable for all the right reasons.”
He jerks a thumb toward his face. “I’m the reason.”
I can’t argue with that, so I nod. “Not only did you fuck me more times than I can count but you took care of me after the bad shrimp scampi.”
As soon as Donovan thought I’d drifted off to sleep that night, I heard him on the phone. Whoever answered the call got an earful. He raged on about food poisoning and liability.
His words had an impact on whoever is in charge because by the next morning, there were flowers at his stateroom door and a letter addressed to me.
Since my trip was a gift, the cruise line issued me a credit for another voyage.
I’m not eager to take them up on the offer, but I know I’ll use it eventually. It’ll have to be when I’m over this man sitting across from me because right now, the thought of taking another trip like this without him is too painful to bear.
“Don’t forget and order it the next time you’re on this ship.”
I want to tell him to book time off so he can join me but that’s not possible. We already agreed that whatever this was between us ends as soon as the cruise does.
“I won’t forget,” I say evenly.
“What time is your flight back to New York?” he asks.
For days now, I’ve been hoping we’re on the same flight. Even if we’re not seated side-by-side, I’d take comfort in knowing that he’s close to me.
“Seven p.m.”
“Ah.” He nods. “I’m flying back tomorrow morning.”
There’s no offer to try and change his flight. Why would there be? His plans are set. Mine are too, and not just for the flight home. Our plans for the rest of our lives don’t include each other.
“I have a friend who lives in Miami,” he explains. “In an oceanfront condo, so I’ll spend the night there.”
I resist the urge to ask if it’s a man or a woman because as much as I want that to my business, it’s not.
“We went to college together.” He glances at me. “He’s a great guy. A lawyer. Him and his wife have a three-year-old son. It’s nothing but pure joy to hang out with that kid.”
Relief floods me as his hand darts across the table in search of mine. I grab hold of it instantly.