Daring the Doctor
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”
“If you’d been the one to operate on him, he would have lived,” she whispers against my mouth, her fingers curling in the front of my shirt. “For so long, I’ve been dreaming I could go back in time and find you earlier.”
God, she’s ripping me to shreds. “Charlotte…”
“You’d have been my hero, wouldn’t you? Until I could be my own?”
Her eyes on mine are so earnest, so imploring, that I can’t do anything but tell her what she needs to hear. To give her this dream she’s woven. A dream I’m just arrogant enough to believe might have come true. “I would have done everything in my power.”
She makes a short sound and our mouths lock together once again, wilder this time. I loom over Charlotte, her face tipped back to receive my kiss, my hands drawing her to the edge of the chair, wedging my hips between her thighs. I’m going too fast. I know that. I’ve barely begun to unravel her inner workings, but Jesus, she tastes like eternal life.
Sweet. So goddamn sweet.
When I feel my fingers close around my zipper, on the verge of letting out my rigid cock, I order myself to slow down, as much as it pains me. There’s more I need to know, dammit. And I can’t shake this sudden intuition that she needs to be understood. By me. In order to be loved properly. Touched in a way that she can feel in her soul—and that’s what I’m after with Charlotte. Everything. Every single facet of her.
Instead of freeing my erection, I cup the sides of her face instead, my lungs laboring to inhale and exhale. “You can be your own hero, Charlotte. That’s why I need to know why you won’t take the money. Why?”
Our kiss suspends itself, but the connection between us seems to intensify. She’s openly vulnerable, her hands unsteady where she settles them on my shoulders. “After my father passed away, we were broke. He left all this medical debt behind and no matter how many hours my mother worked, we never could get that huge number to go down. The payments were taking everything we had. And she got desperate.” Charlotte rubs her lips together. “Eventually, she met a man and he swept into our lives like a knight in shining armor, paying bills and buying us new furniture. But after a while, he wasn’t a nice person—I didn’t realize that. I was young and a lot of his cruel treatment was happening behind closed doors. She kept it from me. And she stayed with this person who was treating her terribly because she felt like she owed him after all he’d done. He…squeezed the life out of her.”
It’s a relief that the big picture of this girl is finally coming into this place. Making sense. In addition to the relief, however, I’m also pissed as hell that she went through any of this. I’m helpless to do anything about the loss of her father. I can’t go back in time and fix what happened to her mother. Not being able to repair something doesn’t sit well with me. It’s what I do. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I kiss her forehead, her cheek, her mouth. “That does give you the right to be wary of me. My intentions.”
“I won’t be in someone’s debt. I refuse,” she says quietly. “When I found out this man had been hurting my mother, I found a women’s shelter for her. I moved in with my aunt for a while until the man stopped trying to terrorize my mom. And when we were finally back living together, we made a promise to each other. To pay our own way, no matter what. To get ahead through hard work. No shortcuts. No tangled webs spun out of promises.”
“I would never use the money against you, Charlotte,” I say, my voice vibrating.
She studies my face for long moments. “I can’t take the money. Please don’t ask me again, okay?” Her fingers slide into my hair, her nails dragging along my scalp and I have to trap a moan in my throat. “I’ve wanted to be near you so badly. I still do. But you represent this…trap. If you keep pressing me to take the tuition, I’ll just find ways to avoid you.”
“You’re telling me I can have you. But I must endure you cleaning houses and throwing away years of time you could be practicing medicine?”
Her chin turns stubbornly firm. “Yes.”
“Charlotte,” I growl, drawing her off the chair, turning us and laying her down on the soft carpet of my office. Pressing my body down on top of her. Gathering the hem of her skirt in my right hand while I drag our lips together, side to side. “I want to give you everything.”