My Forbidden Doctor (Forbidden Medicine 7)

"This is a small town, you know."

Instantly, a sourness coated my tongue, and that gentle warmth hugging my sternum flared violently. Melissa's eyes met mine, but she simply cleared her throat lightly and pulled her hair over her shoulder.

"Yeah. It is. And there's not many bars. Especially not by the waterside over near Docklands Street."

Crap. Why'd I have to go open my mouth? Sluggishly opening the door, I gestured Melissa out first, and my quiet office hallways closed in on me. Unlike Eva, Mel didn't need to do anything at all to sway her plump, tight ass, and I clenched my jaw hard.

When Mel turned right to head to the reception area, I wordlessly turned left into my office. Tossing her file on my desk, I raked both my hands through my hair roughly and blew out a hard breath. When I closed my eyes and flopped my head back, I could see the bold outline in my contract. Illicit fraternization with patients will lead to termination without warning or exception.

"Shit."Chapter 3MelissaSucking on my inhaler, I leaned on the back of the chair and clutched my chest with my free hand. My eyes watered a seemingly endless stream of tears down my cheeks, and dizziness swirled behind my shuttered lids. This was my penance for being stupid with Carl at my appointment earlier, I knew.

Clenching and releasing my jaw, my teeth ached as I wheezed vicious, shallow breaths. Why'd I have to do something so stupid as tempt Carl when he'd already made a very valid point? His reasoning was beyond sound, and I shouldn't have been so suggestive about going to a bar to 'accidentally' bump into him.

This was my punishment— a pretty bad asthma attack and sinuses the size of friggin shelled walnuts.

"Ugh..." Panting shortly, my tight chest threatened to concave on itself as I sank against the table. My hands shook as I struggled to open my purse, and goosebumps blanketed my entire body. The gentle, warm breeze of early April rustled my hair, and the salt of the ocean helped ease the pressure on my nose a bit.

"Are you okay, Mel?"

My dad's question earned him a fierce glare, and I huffed a ragged breath. He'd insisted we go out to dinner tonight, in an open air, patio-based restaurant on the pier, and refused to listen to me about why that was a terrible idea. His balding head tinted pink in embarrassment, and he tugged his shirt a little in discomfort.

"Sorry. Stupid question."

"The stupid thing was making me come here, Dad. You know my asthma's really bad right now because of my allergies. Not to mention... everything you do, you find a reason or a way to make it cost money. You know, sometimes it'd be nice to just make dinner and eat together at my place." I could tell by the look in his eye that my dad was going to ignore the money part of my complaining.

He never wanted to talk about his reckless spending. If he weren't the only mechanic in this rich, posh town on the ocean, he'd probably be in a huge amount of debt long ago. Frowning darkly across the table, I sniffled harshly and pulled a tissue out of my purse. Dabbing my eyes, I struggled to breathe through my clogged nose as my father sat back to cross his arms over his chest.

"Well, sorry I want to spend time with you, Mel."

Groaning loudly, I pressed my palms on the table forcefully. Eyes on us raised the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck, but I really wasn't in the mood to deal with my dad's attempt to turn the conversation around. Glaring through bleary, throbbing eyes, I scowled nastily as uncertainty flickered across his pudgy face.

"You know what, Dad— you try to turn everything around on me without acknowledging the fact that this is your fault!" My heart ached as I practically shouted at my dad, drawing all the attention in this small bar-slash-restaurant's patio. "Are you just going to ignore the fact that I'm suffering through an asthma attack right now because you dragged me here? I told you when you suggested this place that my allergies were making my asthma unbearable, and yet— here we are! On the patio! During the worst time for me! And for what? Because you want to spend time with me?"

Wheezing viciously, I could feel my lungs shrinking from the strain of my own talking. I couldn't breathe, and my face burned as my dad's jaw hit his collar bone at my outburst. His embarrassed blush intensified when he noticed my shouting drawing attention, and he sat up and tried to speak up. My dad only managed to open his mouth, but nothing came out when the waitress came zooming over in her smart, tucked uniform.