Page 9 of Doctor of the Bay

She hands us each a takeaway cup.

“Mocha, full cream, double shot for you. And my lovely Myrtle, a soy latte, half strength with a shot of vanilla.”

“Thank you. And here’s your file.” Myrtle hands the doctor her work for the day.

She’s younger than Myrtle, but older than me, with a soft British accent. Built like a fairy, and matching pixie platinum hair, which suits her sharp fine-boned features to the T. She dresses like it’s the eighties, and I don’t mean frizzy hair and shocking pink socks. No, it’s floral cotton dresses or skirts with lace necklines, but weirdly, it suits her.

“Any idea who will take over Belinda’s job?” Cindy glances at me.

“I have enough on my plate. So you, Mark and Jay had better sort that one out, and fast.” I shrug, then gulp down a mouthful, careful not to mess up my clothes again.

The hot chocolate backed up with strong coffee hits my stomach and floods my body with the boost of ‘get it on’ I know I’m going to need for today. “Thanks.” I lift the mug in a half cheers salute.

The back door opens a second time, and fresh salty ocean air charges down the passage followed by rumbling deep voices.

Shit, I need to get out of here now.

I grab my files and tablet device. Adrenaline and that hot surge of fuck me now flood my veins at the sound of his gruff voice. The memory of his lips on my—

“Morning ladies.” They greet us simultaneously.

Shit, fuck, shit. I need to keep it together.

Dressed in Khaki chino’s and a light blue cotton dress shirt, he is Hot. As. Fuck. And judging by the glimmer in those dark eyes, he knows what he does to me.

He stands at least two heads taller than Mark, with skin as olive as a sun god’s, and eyes as hungry and deep as a wolf’s. Today, he’s wearing his ‘broody as hell’ expression. His dark hair sporting streaks of pure gold and tied up in a man bun with a matching beautifully trimmed beard all scream to the woman in me.

Fuck!

Sandalwood, musk, and man fill the reception area. My ovaries cheer and I refrain from pinching my legs together like a toddler needing the loo. My insides quake, and it takes all my wherewithal to force myself to act like a normal human being, and not some hormone-fueled savage.

I sit right back down and swallow a please fuck me sigh. Myrtle grins cheekily at me before she stands.

“Dr. Hill, Dr. Cikes, good morning. And here are your patient lists for the day.”

She hands them both a file. While everything’s computerized these days, we learned to print the important shit out for those odd occasions when technology fails us.

“Thanks, Myrtle. Ah, Simone, a word in my office please?”

Jason smiles and I almost lose my shit.

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