Page 5 of Doctor Bossy

“James’ fiancée.”

An image of a petite woman with brown hair and expressive eyes flashed in my head.Ah, Becca. I had met her during James’ rushed engagement party and had seen her a few times on campus. She had seemed like a nice enough girl. Perhaps a bit naïve for wanting to marry my son, but certainly not the type to be banging at someone’s gate in the middle of the night.

“What does she want?” I asked.

“I think she might be looking for the young master,” Arnold mused. “She also looks angry as hell.”

I sighed, resigned. I knew James would screw up eventually, but I hadn’t thought it would be this quick. I initially had some hope that somehow his love for Becca would overcome his innate selfishness. I wasn’t delusional about who my son was. I knew he could be a thoughtless bastard often. It was my fault…I hadn’t paid as much attention to him as I should have when my wife died, so perhaps his character deficiencies were because of me. It seemed nothing I did at this point could correct them.

But when I’d seen him acting so loving with Becca at the engagement party, I’d hoped that, for the first time in his life, my son would do the right thing and not screw up.

That was clearly a big ask.

“Should I call the police, sir?” Arnold asked.

“No,” I said. “There’s no need for that.” I wasn’t in the mood for an angry woman taking her anger out on my gate this late at night, but on some level, I felt bad for her. She seemed to be in some serious distress, driven to the point of madness.

“Let her in,” I said.

I could practically hear the shock on the other end. “Sir?”

“Let’s just make sure she’s okay, at least,” I said. “I don’t know how she got here, but she doesn’t appear to be in the right mental state to be going anywhere right now.”

After removing my thumb from the intercom, I started down the stairs and walked out through the backdoor of the manor. I regarded the pine trees lining the walkway to the gate, as well as the lawns, kept perfectly manicured thanks to Arnold. The man was a godsend after Heather’s death. She always monitored the upkeep of the house, knowing fully well that I did not have the brain capacity to keep up with such things. After she died, the place fell into disarray and looked like something out of a horror movie for a good year. It wasn’t until I hired Arnold that the manor began looking up once again.

Now it was only me who was the mess.

Arnold must have activated the automatic unlock because the gate began opening as I got closer, revealing a small woman in a disheveled trench coat with a short curly mop of brown hair sticking up around her face.

She froze mid-knock, eyes widening at the sight of me. The street light fell across her face, illuminating her elfin features.

I hadn’t noticed before, but Becca had very interesting eyes. They were large, almost too big for her face—a light chocolate brown fringed by dark lashes that somehow seemed innocent and seductive all at once.

I shook the thought away immediately, finding it appropriate that I was thinking about such a young woman in that way. She was my son’s age, for crying out loud.And also his fiancée.

“You’re…” She swallowed and swayed a little as she spoke. “You’re not James.”

I raised an eyebrow. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re…you’re Dr. Griffin.”

Another obvious statement. I didn’t think this one warranted an answer, so I simply continued to evaluate her as she stared at me.

She was drunk. I could tell from the way she staggered in her steps and the unfocused way her eyes blinked at me. It was a wonder she had made it here itself. She was certainly not in the state to be going anywhere else, even with a cab, so I reluctantly said, “Come in.”

She hesitantly took a step forward, then another, watching me from the corner of her eyes like I was a predator who was going to pounce at her at any point. It was insulting, but I understood. After all, she was a lone woman, and I was a man who towered over her by several feet. But slowly, she began to walk in front of me, and I followed her at a close distance in case she fell over. She only stumbled a few times on the rocks on the pathway as she made her way to the front door. When she got there, I walked in front of her, throwing open the door and walking through before turning to watch her.

She gingerly lifted her feet over the door sill but not high enough. Her feet caught on the edge, and I sensed she would keel forward before it happened. I darted forward, catching her in my arms before she could fall to the floor.

Her hands went up to my arms, and her eyes widened as she stared up at me. “Wow. Do you work out?” Her fingers squeezed my bicep.

I did, sometimes obsessively, as that was the only thing that helped me sleep. But I didn’t answer that, my brain instantly taking note of how she felt in my arms. For such a small woman, she was remarkably soft, with curves that I could feel imprinting on my body even through her coat. A skittering feeling ran through my body at the contact.

Shit. Calm down, you old pervert.

I instantly let her go and walked away. I pushed the intercom in the living room.

“Arnold.”

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