The Doctor's Fake Marriage(4)

By: Amy Brent

I didn’t have time for such luxuries. I was too focused on my studies to let my mind stray too far to other hobbies and extra-curricular activities, including men, which was why at twenty years old I was still a virgin. Well, that and because I’d gone through a particularly painful and awkward period in my teens. I’d finally left the baby fat and braces behind, but I couldn’t shake the glasses. They were a part of me.

I was about to doze off and start drooling when he arrived wearing slacks that were perfectly pressed. He straightened his cuffs as he stopped in front of me. “Ms. Moore I presume? I’m Dr. Evan Black. I’ll be your escort for the weekend.” He put out his hand and took me in from head to toe.

I felt my face warm as I took his hand and he continued to study me, his brow lifting as he saw my ratty jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt. I forced my voice to be heard, “Hello.” I’d seen him around, knew him, and even had spoken to him, but I hadn’t ever been formally introduced.

“Wait, did you say my escort?” The words suddenly sank in.

“Yes, Dr. Strong thought it would be nice for you to have a proper escort, especially considering you’ll be participating in the trial. I’ll be driving us down, so you’ll need to give me your address so I can pick you up.” The thought of him seeing where I lived embarrassed me. I shared a small apartment with my roommate close to the hospital, but it left a lot to be desired.

“I can meet you here. I live just up the road.”

“Nonsense, it’s no trouble. Be sure to pack a few nice dresses. We’ll be having dinner after the event each day, and you’ll want to look your best.” He glanced down at my shoes as panic went through me. I didn’t have but one nice dress and that was because I’d gone to a wedding six months ago. I didn’t have a lot of money to get a bunch of new clothes, but I might be able to borrow something from Courtney, my roommate.

“Okay.” Before I could reach inside my bulky bag for a pen, he placed a hand on my wrist. My body heated and I felt a tingle between my legs as the thought of his moving to other places.

“Text it to me.” His lips twitched in the corners, and for a moment I wondered if he knew the effect he had on me.

“How much money should I bring?” I wanted to make sure I had my costs covered, or I’d have to talk to Dr. Strong about a possible reimbursement. I hadn’t planned on eating at fancy places or spending that kind of money. If I had that kind of money, I wouldn’t be doing the trial in the first place.

I was a bit nervous about it. Being that I wasn’t sexually active made it a bit silly, but at least if I ever decided to have sex, I’d be covered.

“Oh, it will be my treat, of course. But you can bring whatever you want.”

“Thank you, but that’s not necessary.” He was still glaring at me like I needed a bath and even more than that like he wanted to bathe me. I tilted my head, and a loose strand of hair escaped my clip and fell against my cheek.

He brushed it away, his hand grazing my glasses. “It’s totally necessary. I’m a bit particular. I like things my way.” His mouth turned up in the corners again as I adjusted my glasses.

“I was under the impression that Dr. Strong had made all of my arrangements. She was supposed to get my hotel room booked.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Yes, but I’ve already taken care of that as well. She wanted to make sure you were in good hands, so she sent the best.” He gave a sly smile, and I couldn’t argue. As far as surgeons come, he did have a great pair of hands, but something about the thought of them sent me to blushing again.

He stood too close, his cologne filling my nose and his warmth radiating. I wondered how many of others at the hospital he’d flirted with, but then I caught myself. He wasn’t flirting with me. He was being polite.

“Don’t worry about a thing; we’ll make the most of it.” The way he said that made me wonder what if he’d found himself stuck in this situation with me and no hope to get out of it. Maybe he’d pissed off Dr. Strong one too many times or gotten on her bad side.

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