Dr. Tempt Me - A Possessive Doctor Romance

And yet there he was, still scheming. I couldn’t help but feel impressed.

“All right, fine,” I said. “But I’m never around the neuro department. You’re going to have to walk me through it.”

He nodded and reached out to me, tentative at first, but I didn’t pull away. Our last conversation flitted back into my mind, and I knew I should stop this, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to stop it last time, and I still didn’t want to stop it—even if I felt like I should.

He leaned down and kissed me. I kissed him back softly, without any promise of more. His fingers brushed against my hips and I felt the power of his arms and his muscular chest. I chewed my lip, staring into his eyes.

“I want this to be over, you know,” he said, voice soft. “But I also want it to keep going for as long as possible, because that means you’ll still be in my life.”

“Dean—”

“Hear me out. You say you want to end things because you’re afraid that I’ll resent you, but that’s not true. I’m betting you’ve spent your whole life ending things, because you believe not being able to have children is a deal breaker for people, that someone could never love you because of it. But I’m telling you that’s not true for me, it’s not even slightly true.”

I felt my old anger flare. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I think I do.” He tilted his head. “Maybe not everything, but I think I’m right about this.”

I wanted to argue, but I clamped my jaw shut. I’d spend so long angry, fighting, arguing, trying to convince the world that I was broken and not worth its time—but maybe, for once, I could listen to what he was saying, and try to believe him.

It wasn’t easy, but maybe I could try.

“I’ll get your papers,” I said, slipping away from his grasp. “And then maybe we’ll talk some more.”

He laughed and drummed his fingers on the table. “You get those papers and I’ll do more than talk with you.”

I rolled my eyes, but smiled. “You’re crazy, you know that? Anyone else would’ve walked away by now.”

“You’re probably right. I guess Maria got really unlucky when I was the one that overheard her in that hallway.”

“I guess so.” I walked to his front door and he followed after me. “Call me tonight and explain exactly where the fax machine is, okay?”

“I will.”

“Good. And by the way, the whole hospital is talking about you getting fired.”

“I’m sure they are.” His face darkened. “And I’m sure the stories are all true.”

“Actually, most people are just confused. You’re pretty well-liked there, all things considered.”

His face calmed a bit and he laughed. “That’s a huge compliment, coming from you.”

“Damn right it is. Talk to you tonight. I should get back before Mary gets overwhelmed and tells someone I went AWOL.”

He nodded, and I opened the front door, then slipped out into the afternoon.

I went there expecting him to be shattered and struggling to stay afloat—and left there completely positive that if anyone was going to bring Maria down, it was going to be him. I didn’t know how he kept his head up, despite being attacked, despite being fired, and I wanted to tell him how impressed I was, but couldn’t quite put it into words.

Instead, I was going to do my best to emulate him. I’d push forward, despite being afraid of where this all might lead, and I wouldn’t turn away from something that felt good.

For me, that was a win, about as big a win as it gets.22DeanI lied when I told her about the faxes.

It was a white lie. I wasn’t proud of it, but as soon as I realized what I had to do, I knew she’d insist on going with me.

But breaking into an accounting firm and stealing files wasn’t the same as breaking into Maria’s office. It was much more likely that I’d get caught, and I couldn’t risk bringing her down with me.

Maybe I was spiraling. Breaking into this office was truly insane, but I couldn’t help myself. Maria had gone to the next level, and now it was time to risk everything to make sure this happened.

I parked in a rain-soaked lot in a corner spot away from an overhead street light. I lingered behind the wheel for a second, watching the office park through my rearview. It was true that the firm’s offices were out in Doylestown, a quiet little suburb about an hour north of the city. It was past one in the morning, and the place was quiet—no other cars, no other people. The office park was a single story, a tangle of different companies, each with their own door, and a complicated directory was posted on every corner.