Page 5 of Deceitful Vows

I appreciate Dr. Hemway’s honesty. If anyone other than him had spoken those words, I would have taken them the wrong way. Since the doctor has looked out for me more than any other adult in my life, I dip my chin in gratitude.

Continued causes for appreciation roll in when he nudges his head to my handbag before he says, “While you get dressed, I’ll let Melita know that I accidentally double-booked today and that you were gracious enough to agree to reschedule your appointment for next month.”

Tingles bombard my nose as stupid tears form.

By saying he double-booked, I won’t have to pay for my appointment. That may not seem like much to most people, but when you’re between jobs and struggling to pay rent, saving two hundred dollars is a godsend.

I’m also super appreciative that he isn’t planning to examine me today.

I’ve avoided his office like the plague for the past two years because I usually always leave in more pain than when I arrive. Dr. Hemway isn’t necessarily rough. He just has giant hands that should have had him rethinking his profession long before medical school.

“Thank you.”

With a dip of his chin, he accepts my gratitude as if it is worth more than the consultancy fee he missed out on today before he exits his office, leaving me to change into the underwear I hid so well in my handbag it takes me almost five minutes to find them.

The delay in my arrival at the reception desk has Dr. Hemway looking at me more suspiciously than I’m used to. The groove between his brows deepens when I trip over my tongue upon spotting the patient the nurse is calling into his consulting room.

Good lord, I’ve never seen such a handsome specimen. His hair is inky and thick enough to lose several fingers in it. His tailored suit showcases every spectacular ridge of his body, and his cut facial features and icy-blue eyes would have even the most menopausal woman believing dryness would never be an issue for her.

This man is divine—and he knows it.

His smug grin enlarges the longer I stare, and the egotism beaming out of him turns so catastrophic that if we were in a nunnery, several women would clutch their pearls.

I’d be frustrated about the I’m-a-hussy vibes I am throwing out if he weren’t tossing out as many come-get-me feelers. He’s eyeballing me with as much interest as I’m serving him, and it sets my pulse racing.

My insides tap dance in victory when his prolonged gawk sees him crashing into the pamphlet table the receptionist restocks each morning. If he were watching where he was going instead of checking out my ass, he wouldn’t have knocked over the sex education pamphlets he should hand out before every hookup. One glance at his sinfully handsome face demands a safe-sex refresher.

Upon hearing the faint giggle that announces I love that I have his head in such a tizzy he almost tumbled, the unnamed man bows his head in defeat before he follows the nurse to Dr. Hemway’s office.

Only after the quickest glance back my way does he enter the sterile-scented space as requested by the nurse.

I take just as long to return my focus to Dr. Hemway. “Sorry, what did you say? I was…” My words trail off when I can’t find an appropriate excuse. Admitting I was eye-fucking a stranger in an OBGYN office seems a little perverse, even for someone as confident as me.

Why would he be here unless it is for the first half of Stoltz and Hemway Obstetrics and Gynecologist Services?

Unless he’s a traveling pharmaceutical representative?

His suit screams corruption, and drug reps are as corrupt as they come.

Mindful I will only get answers from one man. I flick my eyes to Dr. Hemway and then ask, “Is that man a patient of yours?”

“Who?” His blasé response proves there’s more to his chosen profession than he lets on. Even when the very epitome of a man is in the same room as him, his confidence doesn’t wither in the slightest.

I nudge my head to his now-closed office door. “The adonis who was just shown into your consultancy room.”

Since he is still lost, he checks his old-school booking calendar for the patient listed underneath my name. He has such an informal booking process all his patients’ appointments are made with their given names. The one penciled in for the final appointment of the day is under Andrik.

Dr. Hemway’s expression returns to the concerned, fretful one he wore when he first read my results before he slams his planner shut. “That’s confidential.” He guides me to the side of the waiting area. “As is anything you tell me.”

He builds the suspense so well I am tempted to ask if the cream he mentioned earlier also works for your mouth. Mine is suddenly parched.

“Why today, Zoya? You’ve been dodging my calls for months, so to say I was surprised when I saw your name listed on my schedule today is an understatement.”

“I was… uh… I…”Come on, brain. You’re usually more quick-witted than this.“The pain was reaching a level I could no longer ignore.” Since that isn’t a lie, it doesn’t sound like one.

Some of the concern on Dr. Hemway’s face clears. Not a lot. Just a little.

“That’s it? That is thesolereason for your visit to Chelabini today?”

---