Page 52 of Dr. Weston

“You dream about me?” His facial expression has morphed from one of delight to complete seriousness.

Broadie Weston.TheDr. Broadie Weston. St. Luke’s royalty and the man of my dirty dreams is here in the flesh.I think.

Moving my hand from around his neck, I place the pad of my index finger into the space where his dimple usually resides. His smile widens, and I feel that familiar indention deepen beneath my touch.

“It is you,” I say in complete shock. As much as I appreciate him saving me from an even more embarrassing fate had he not caught me, I push away, confused. “What are you doing here?”

Broadie clears his throat. “I’m attending a conference.”

I picture the brochures I receive on a regular basis, offering continuing education credits at amazing destinations all over the world. This never seemed like a viable option for me. But I’m sure with unlimited funds, it is for him. It dawns on me that this resort likely caters to medical providers, hence the giveaways.

Looking around, I await some gorgeous young woman to approach, wondering why her man is so close to me. “Are you here with your family?” I ask, treading water in my attempt to reach the side of the pool. I hope I haven’t completely destroyed my new shoes. But it’s probably safer I not wear them down here again.

“No. My daughters just got back from New Zealand with their mother. I came here alone.”

I’m not sure what’s happening to my body, as his statement stirs something low in my belly. My gaze flicks to his, and the heat in his eyes has me blushing. I glance toward the stairs but find they’re at the other end of the pool.

“Here.” Broadie’s hands wrap around my waist, and he hoists me onto the pool’s edge with ease. I lift one leg, then the other, as I remove my waterlogged wedges. There’s no escaping the fact they’re ruined beyond repair.

“I’m sorry about your shoes, Poppy.”

“I should’ve known better than to think I could prance around like some supermodel in these things. I’m used to flip flops.” I laugh, embarrassed. Looking back toward him, I catch the moment his eyes flick from my chest to my mouth and blush. Peering down, I find my nipples are firm peaks, pushing against the thin blue fabric of my bikini. Glancing back at him, there’s an undeniable current floating between us.You better get out of this pool before you’re electrocuted, Poppy.

“Thank you. For catching me. Now that I’m completely mortified, I’ll just head over to my lounger.” I say self-consciously.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It was the highlight of my day.” He grins. His tan skin and dark hair glisten in the sun, as his light brown eyes smile up at me through dark, wet lashes.

Getting to my feet, I give him a shy smile, carry my useless shoes over to the chaise, and sit down. As I dry off, I can see Broadie diving under the water out of the corner of my eye. He may still be submerged, yet there’s no doubt what floats beneath. His arms felt like bands of steel as he held me tight to his chest. A very warm, muscular chest, covered in a light smattering of hair. Okay, change the channel, Poppy, or you’ll never get your body under control.

Taking a sip of my water, I remember my sunscreen is in my pool bag. With my fair skin, it wouldn’t take long in this Jamaican sun to burn to a crisp. Once I’m completely dry, I reach into my bag and retrieve my sun block. I apply a liberal amount to my face and neck before rubbing it into my arms and legs.

“Everything okay, miss?” a resort staff member asks.

Is he referring to my fall earlier. I’m sure everyone here got a big laugh out of that. “Yes, thank you.”

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Not right now. The water is fine, thanks.”

I apply more lotion to my neck, chest, and abdomen as he walks away. The festive music has changed from a Jamaican vibe to more like the American music I’ve found on cruise ships and at pools back home. The tunes have a fun rhythm that make you want to dance or sing along. While I’d normally be lying back on my chair, eyes closed, tapping my toes to the beat, I admit having Broadie here has me feeling more conspicuous.

Reaching behind me, I try to apply my lotion when I notice the sun disappear and quickly look up to see if a storm cloud has moved in. I admit I haven’t been paying any attention to the weather forecast. It seems to rain for about an hour each day here, much like I find it does in the late afternoon when I visit Florida. Plus, there’s nothing I can do about it anyway. So why worry?

“Can I help you with that?”

Turns out my storm cloud is one tall, handsome drink of water. The very thought of having his hands on my body could be the death of me.

“I—”

“You’re so fair skinned, Poppy. You don’t want to burn.”

Ugh. He’s right. I’d managed yesterday, but only because it was so late in the day by the time I made it to the pool the sun was probably less intense. Scooting forward, I lift the lotion up toward him and shield my eyes. Whether it’s from the sun or those eyes that are doing weird things to my belly right now, I haven’t decided. “Thank you.”

The chaise dips as he sits himself down behind me. The feel of him so close is making my skin feel electric. Or is it the sheer anticipation of feeling his strong, gifted hands all over my back. Whichever it is, I’m well aware it’s not coming from the sun. The moment his hands hit my naked back, I jolt.

“Sorry. Is it cold?” His deep voice caresses my ear, and I nearly swoon.

“No. It just startled me for a second.”Good grief, Poppy. Get it together.But the feel of his warm hands gliding against my skin is doing anything but relaxing me. I feel myself tense as I discover all Broadie Weston has to do is rub sunscreen on my back, and I’m getting wet. I try to distract myself from what he’s doing to me. “So, has your conference ended or not begun?”

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