Page 22 of Seduction
Penina Ross
Istared at the rose with my mouth twisted thoughtfully before plucking it out of the vase. Something felt odd about the bouquets of flowers and the more intimate red rose. If Sparrow wanted to fuck, he didn’t have to go through the hassle of such an elaborate seduction.Has he looked in the mirror lately?All he had to do was buy me a drink, sparkling water, of course, and bourbon wings then kiss my neck like he did the other day. There was something about a man who would do so much to land a girl in bed. I suspected he was a chaser. That meant that once I was caught, he would be done with me. I had to remember that as well as consider that he was an attending.
I had no time to give it more thought. I rushed back to the bedroom, stuffed the rose into my bag, planning to confront him with it, then got dressed. After my shift ended, I planned to return to Dr. Sparrow’s penthouse—I knew for certain that it belonged to him—and collect my things. Then that would be it. No more kissing, dry humping, or neck nibbling.
My heart fluttered, and my pussy wept as I thought about his lips on my skin.
“No, Pen,” I whispered, darting out of the bedroom. “It’s only physical.” I had to put an end to whatever we were doing before we got too emotionally involved with each other. I ran the risk of falling hard and fast for Dr. Sparrow. Something about him felt familiar.
My first stop was back in the kitchen, where I wrapped a warm croissant filled with blueberry sauce and cream cheese in a napkin. I also took some sliced oranges and grapefruit. A silver urn was beside to-go cups, and I filled one of the cups with coffee, added cream, and rushed to the private elevator. On the way down, I reminded myself once again to say no to any sexual contact with the sexy doctor, even if my body said yes.
* * *
I felt a sense of relief.Sparrow was in surgery, so I didn’t have to see him for a while. That rose was burning a hole in my bag, though, and we had to talk about it. At least I had more time to form my words.
My morning routine hadn’t changed. I signed in then finished drinking my coffee, which was very good, and read prep notes and patient records from the previous night’s handoffs along with new cases. Angela and Jude wanted to know for certain if Zara had quit. Even though I knew the answer, I wasn’t one to impart information someone had shared with me without their permission. Then the conversation quickly turned to Sparrow.
“He’s so damn good-looking,” Angela whispered, trying not to be heard by anyone not involved in our conversation.
“I heard the guy was gay,” Jude said. “So don’t get your hopes up.”
My brow furrowed as I looked up from the computer screen at him. “Who told you that?”
“It’s well-known.” Jude dropped off his stool. “The guy’s gay, so don’t embarrass yourselves by coming on to him.”
I could tell Jude wanted me to let his claim about Sparrow stand, but no way was I going to do that. I spun my chair around to watch him dig through his locker. “I hadn’t heard that. So who told you?”
He smirked. “Why? Are you planning on joining the soup line of starving alley cats?”
“Ouch,” I said, shrugging a shoulder. “Saint Jude sounds jealous.”
“Ha,” he said, not looking away from his locker. “Whatever. All of you girls are going crazy over a guy.”
I grinned slyly. “Oh, so youarejealous?”
He slammed his locker shut. “Jealous? What do I have to be jealous about?”
Jude used being a doctor as sexual capital. He often left with a new woman after his shift. On many occasions, a girl who appeared to be in her early twenties ate lunch in the cafeteria with him. He kept a steady trail of females, each hoping he would choose them to be the surgeon’s wife.
Zara used to swear Jude was a virgin. I never asked her to prove it because I didn’t care. He wasn’t my type. He was too overworked—he wore too much hair gel and too much cologne, he plucked his eyebrows, and I could have sworn he wore eyeliner. But the worst part about him was that he avoided the OR as much as possible.
“Do you really want us to answer that question?” Angela asked, laughing as she finished tying the shoes she wore for the second half of her shift. She said changing shoes kept her feet healthy.
“Dr. Ross, somebody wants to see you,” someone called.
We whipped our heads toward the guy standing in the doorway. I tried to place his face, but I’d never seen him before.
I pressed my hand on my chest. “Me?”
“Are you Dr. Penina Ross?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Then yeah. You.”
I sat up straight, knowing whoever was looking for me could’ve been anybody, but I hoped it wasn’t Dr. Sparrow—or maybe I hoped it was.
* * *
