Holding Out for Doctor Perfect

She nodded. “It’s all business meetings. Coordinate right, travel light.”

“Sounds like a marketing slogan.” The words were teasing, but his expression was puzzled. He lifted his sunglasses and hung them from his jacket pocket. Piercing green eyes grew intense as he studied her. “You’re not like other women, are you?”

“I’m not sure whether to be insulted or flattered, but … why do you say that?”

“It’s definitely a compliment. And I say it because, until now, I’ve never met a woman who could take a trip of this duration with only one small bag.”

“Considering the sheer number of your women—”

“My women?” One light brown eyebrow lifted.

“Hospital talk.” She shrugged. “There’s no way to stop it.”

“Ah.” He slid his hands into his slacks pockets. “The rumor network at Mercy Medical Center is as intricate as the capillaries, veins and vessels that comprise the body’s complex circulatory system.”

“News does travel fast.” She couldn’t help smiling because the comparison he’d made was accurate but leaned toward the brainy geek side. That was contradictory to his playboy image and oddly endearing.

He stared at her. “Wow.”

“What?”

“You smiled.”

“I do it quite often.” She knew where he was going with this.

“Not with me,” he said. “When I’m around, your good humor is as rare as rain in Las Vegas.”

And for good reason. He was brash, confident and just her type. The type who promised everything she’d always wanted then left without a word.

He glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. “We better go. There could be traffic.”

“Okay.” She pushed the handle of her suitcase down and started to lift it but he brushed her fingers aside.

“I’ll get that.” He settled his sunglasses over his eyes, hiding any expression that might be there. “And for the record … I do date, but the number of women I go out with is greatly exaggerated by the hospital’s rumor network.”

There was no response she could make to that, which was becoming an annoying pattern where he was concerned.

He opened the car door and handed her into the passenger seat. When he was behind the wheel, that sexy masculine smell surrounded her, even more potent than before. It felt like he’d wrapped her in his arms and overwhelmed her senses. Then he fit the key into the ignition and the car glided forward. It was like riding on a cloud.

Avery knew her best defense was to push back this out-of-control feeling with words but so far that hadn’t worked very well with him. Still, conversation was better than awkward silence. So she came up with a topic as innocuous and close to a man’s heart as she could.

“Nice car.”

“Thanks. It’s a terrific machine.” He glanced her way for a second. “And before you get your panties in a twist about boys and their toys, I’m going to again request that you be as objective as possible when we gather information about the surgery system.”

“I will,” she promised.

Whatever flaws Spencer might have personally, as a doctor he was beyond reproach. Objectivity wasn’t plentiful where his personal life was concerned, but without a doubt she knew that saving lives was profoundly important to him.

Avery remembered their conversation in her office less than twenty-four hours ago. They’d both agreed that kids deserve the best start in life. Part of her wasn’t talking about it in a medical way. She was a product of divorce and didn’t see her father after he left. At seventeen she’d gotten pregnant and her baby’s father disappeared. It broke her heart that her mother had refused to give her a home if she kept her infant daughter. Only with time had she gained the wisdom to realize that the baby was better off in a stable home with two parents. Still, a trauma like that left an indelible mark on the soul.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.” Spencer’s voice cut through her dark thoughts.

“I hate flying.” She loved the airport but dreaded getting on a plane. “I can’t wait for technology that can beam us where we want to go.”

“It will no doubt be expensive to demolecularize someone, transport them to another location and remolecularize them.” His tone was wry.

“In a perfect world there will be plenty of money.”

Spencer guided the BMW onto the 215 Beltway going west then took the Sunset exit toward McCarran. In minutes there were signs directing them toward Arriving or Departing flights and short- or long-term parking with blue, green and yellow triangles on the roadway. He went to valet, of course, which was the priciest option. So much for his soapbox stand on sticking to a budget and keeping expenses down.

After unloading their luggage, he handed the keys to the attendant and they wheeled the bags into the building and past the classic red Thunderbird on display, a nod to the fact that it was flashier and more fun in Vegas. After passing shops and slot machines, the escalator was on their right and went down to the next floor for check-in. Preferred, of course, where there was no waiting.

Since the two of them were traveling on the same reservation confirmation number, they walked up together. There was a very attractive blonde behind the high counter who was only too happy to help Spencer.

She looked at the computer printout and her smile grew wider. “So, you’re going to Dallas, Dr. Stone?”

“We both are,” he said.

“May I see your ID?”

“Of course.” He handed over his and Avery’s, which got a cursory look, as compared to a long perusal for his.

“Your flight is on time, Doctor, and leaving from Gate D14. If there’s anything I can do to make it more pleasant, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“Thank you.”

They followed signs for their gate and Avery said, “Doctor Awesome strikes again.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed.

Before she could rebut, they joined the line to pass through security. After again presenting IDs and boarding passes, they fell in with people removing shoes, belts and watches as carry-on luggage went on the conveyor belt and into the screening process.

Spencer was waved through the metal detector by a—what else?—female uniformed agent. Naturally, she gave him a big, flirtatious smile as he went through. After gathering up everything, they proceeded to the waiting area and found seats side by side.

Avery looked at him in awe. “Being you must be extraordinarily wonderful.”

His expression oozed amusement. “What are you talking about?”

“Every woman you encounter falls in worship at your feet.”

“Every woman?” he said, giving her a pointed look. “I can think of one notable exception.”

“Does it ever get old?”

“I think you’re exaggerating.”

“You think wrong. Take the TSA lady.” She folded her hands in her lap. “Normally they’re cold, efficient, abrasive even. Not only was she pleasant, the most vigilance she showed was checking out your butt.”

“As flattering as that is—”

“I could see she was wishing you’d opt out of a scan and give her an excuse to pat you down.”

“I didn’t notice.”

“Of course you didn’t. Why should you? It’s probably always like that.”

He grinned. “Was anyone rude to you? I could beat them up.”

“No. But compared to the way you were treated, I could have been the third asterisk at the bottom of security rules and regulations.”

He laughed. “I think you’re making it up.”

“I swear.” She held up her hand in a solemnly sincere gesture. “Does being perfect ever get old?”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew me better.”

Clearly she’d been teasing him and it was by far one of the most harmless things she’d ever said to him, but all traces of amusement disappeared from his face. The contrast was so obvious and striking that she wondered what nerve she’d stepped on.

Not even her comment about all his women had made him look like that. Was it possible Doctor Heartthrob actually had a heart? Intriguing and, darn it all, the realization made her want to know more.

Spencer sat on the chrome and black faux-leather connected chair beside Avery and waited for their flight. Since her question about whether or not being perfect ever got old, they hadn’t exchanged any words.

His fault.

Apparently this visit to see his family was stirring up a whole pile of psychological crap, although he shouldn’t be surprised. Trips home usually did that, what with the pressure on the Stone kids to achieve. His sister, Becky, had performed every aspect of her life to William and Catherine Stone’s expectations. Her twin, Adam, was a doctor and didn’t care that the folks disapproved of his area of specialization. But Spencer was the firstborn son and hadn’t been cut any slack, couldn’t get to a place where he was neutral. He still cared deeply whether or not he made a mistake and disappointed them. His reaction to Avery’s teasing words proved that.

Just then there was an announcement in the terminal informing everyone waiting for the flight to Dallas that their aircraft would be landing soon. After the passengers deplaned, boarding would begin.

“That’s my cue.” Avery stood and settled the strap of her purse securely on her shoulder. Then she pulled out the handle of her carry-on to take it with her. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

“I’ll watch your bag,” he offered.

“That’s okay.”

“You don’t trust me.” His eyes narrowed on her, but a smile threatened.

“Not exactly. But I wouldn’t put it past you to tell a security guard it was left unattended.”

“That would never have crossed my mind,” he said. “Thanks for the idea.”

“No problem.”

He grinned and it felt good. She was a welcome distraction from his dark thoughts. “Seriously, won’t it be faster and easier if you don’t have to drag it with you? Since I need your cooperation to get my way with the robotic surgery system, would it really be smart to play a practical joke?”

“Now that you mention it …” She looked thoughtful. “And no one ever said you didn’t have a high IQ.”

“So it’s settled. I’ll watch your bag.”

She studied him for a moment. “You really don’t mind?”

“No.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She pushed the handle back in and left it beside him.

Spencer studied her as she walked away. No, study was the wrong word. He checked out her butt. Dynamite. The white collar of her silky blouse was neatly folded over the jacket of her black crepe suit. Trim shoulders narrowed to a slim waist and curvy hips covered by the matching skirt. Sheer black pantyhose sheathed her shapely legs and high heels made those legs look longer, sexier. And then he saw it.

Red on the soles of her shoes.

The flash of color was like finding out her secret. A hint that she wasn’t as proper as she pretended. That there was a playful and passionate woman beneath that business suit and prim exterior. This was both good news and bad.

The red-soled shoes turned him on in a very big way. But she’d made it clear that trying anything personal was a hanging offense and he really did need her help to convince the powers that be at Mercy Medical Center that what he wanted was a good idea. About ten minutes later, through a break in the airport crowd, he spotted her walking toward him. This time he missed seeing the red-hot soles of her sky-high shoes. But the front view made up for it. Normally he liked a woman’s hair long, falling past her shoulders, because running his fingers through it was about the most erotic thing in the world.

But Avery was different. The pixie haircut suited her delicate features and highlighted the slightly tilted shape of her big eyes. And sexy? He could imagine himself cupping that small face in his hands while kissing her until she begged for more. As far as the sexy scale went, that visual buried the needle in the hot zone.

“Hi.” She stood in front of him and glanced at the flight information displayed at their gate. “Looks like our plane is here. People are getting off.”

Her tone said she’d rather they stay on and go somewhere else so she wouldn’t have to.

Spencer stood and looked down at her. “Flying is absolutely the safest way to travel.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“But you don’t believe it.” That wasn’t a question.

“I much prefer my feet firmly on the ground, thank you very much.”

“Imagine that,” he said. “A controller who’s a control freak.”

“Not with everything.”

Uh-huh, he thought. “Just money and transportation.”

“Possibly a few other things.”

“Well, I appreciate that you stepped out of your comfort zone to come along,” he said.

“Like I had a choice.”

“You did.”

She shook her head. “When my boss got involved there really weren’t a lot of options. Saying no without a better excuse than aversion to being in a flimsy long white tube that climbs to over thirty thousand feet and hurtles through the sky at over five hundred miles an hour could be a career ender.”

“There’s my brave little soldier,” he said.

When she met his gaze, her expression was wry. “If that’s the bedside manner your patients get, you should know it could use work.”

“I can do better.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Is that a threat?”

“No. A promise.”

Before she could question that further, a voice came over the loudspeaker and said that they were ready to start boarding the flight to Dallas. Anyone needing assistance or flying with small children should step forward. A few minutes later first class passengers were called.

“That’s us,” he said.

She grabbed the handle of her rolling carry-on and fell into step with him. “How did you pull that off? Getting the hospital to cough up a more expensive ticket.”

“I like more leg room. I can afford it. I paid the difference between first class and coach.”

“Then I’ll wait until they announce boarding for the peasants,” she said.

“Not necessary. We’re sitting together.”

“But I didn’t pay—”

“Don’t worry about it. All taken care of.” He carried his briefcase in one hand, then curved his other around her arm and urged her to the opening where the Jetway waited. The airline employee took and scanned their boarding passes and wished them a good flight.

“Fat chance,” she mumbled.

Their seats were in the third row—hers by the window, his on the aisle. He set his briefcase down, then took her bag and stashed it in the overhead bin.

“Thanks,” she said.

“No problem.”

He stepped back so she could precede him into the row, where she sat and immediately secured her lap belt. He slid into the seat beside her and watched her face as all the color disappeared. Anxiety turned her eyes darker blue and her leg moved as her heel tapped a nervous staccato. He wanted to put his fingers on her knee. Partly because he just wanted very much to touch her there, but mostly to soothe the nerves. He was fine with breaching the line between personal and professional to distract her, but was ninety-nine point nine percent sure Avery would have a problem with it.

“So, you’re pretty nervous.”

“What gave me away?” At least she was trying to joke.

“Mostly that woodpecker imitation you’re doing with the heel of your shoe.”

Her leg stopped. “Now you know I didn’t lie. Love the airport, don’t like getting on a plane. I hate flying and officially, I hate you for making me do it.”

“Maybe I can help.”

“You’re going without me?” she asked hopefully.

“No. But I’ll let you ask me anything you want.”

“Professional?”

“Or personal. Nothing is off-limits.”

A gleam stole into her eyes. “That could be more dangerous than a cruising altitude of thirty-nine thousand feet.”

“Maybe.” He rested his elbows on the arms of the seats then linked his fingers. “So, hit me.”

The bustle of passengers boarding had subsided and the flight attendants secured the cabin, then closed the door to the Jetway. As the plane started to move slowly backward, the aircraft safety precautions were reviewed.

Avery gripped the armrests and her knuckles turned as white as her face. When he took her left hand and held it, his only motivation was to make her feel safe. He should feel guilty about taking advantage of the opportunity to touch her, but he couldn’t manage it.

“I’m serious, Tinker Bell. Ask me anything.”

She looked at him and said, “Okay. Did you decide to become a doctor to help people?”

“Of course not. I did it for the women and sex,” he answered without missing a beat.

She laughed as he’d hoped. “So you didn’t choose the profession because all arrogant jerks become doctors?”

“I didn’t really have a choice.”

“How so?” She looked interested instead of anxious.

“My parents are the walking, talking, breathing definition of high achievers. In their eyes I fall short on an annoyingly regular basis.”

“You’re joking.”

“Swear.” He held up his hand just as the pilot announced they’d been cleared for takeoff.

“But you’re a famous and in-demand gifted cardiothoracic surgeon.”

“Tell me about it.” He felt the plane make a turn, then pick up speed.

“What the heck could your mother or father possibly do that’s more prestigious than that?”

“Dad is a Nobel Prize winning economist. Mom is a biomedical engineer whose work has revolutionized diagnostic equipment that helps people all over the world. My younger sister, Becky, is a rocket scientist and works for NASA.”

“Good grief.” Her voice raised to be heard over the whine and noise of the jet engines.

“Actually, in the Stone family, I’m something of a slacker. Only my brother, Adam, takes more heat than me about his career.”

“What does he do?”

“Doctor,” Spencer informed her.

“Of course he is.”

“Family practice. But the folks don’t see that as living up to his potential.”

“And you seriously want me to meet them? They probably won’t let me in the house and if they do, I’ll be politely asked not to touch anything.”

“No way,” he scoffed. “They’re really great people.”

“Who set a very high bar.”

“And speaking of high …” He looked across her and out the airplane window. “We’re in the air and picking up altitude. The flight attendants are moving about the cabin and preparing for in-flight service. I draw your attention to this because we’ve successfully taken off and you have yet to freak out.”

“You’re right.” She laughed. “Now you can add ‘distracting fearful flyers’ to your impressive resume and list of accomplishments.”

“When are you going to admit I’m a nice man who happens to be a doctor?”

The look on her face told him she remembered her words that day in Ryleigh’s office.

If I ever meet a nice doctor, I’d have sex with him at that moment.

A red-hot memory of the scarlet soles of her sky-high shoes made him even more acutely aware of how much he hoped that she’d sincerely meant those words.

Chapter Four

Avery was amazed that she forgot to be afraid at a cruising altitude of twenty-nine thousand feet.

The flight to Texas took just under three hours and she chatted the whole way with Spencer. Who’d have thought such a thing was possible?

Spencer was so charming and funny and interesting that when she remembered her feet were not on the ground, it had very little to do with the fact that she was in an airplane and a whole lot to do with her traveling companion.

As if that weren’t bad enough, he was also a gentleman. He’d put her carry-on bag up and he took it down. Then he carried it off the plane. She wasn’t used to this kind of treatment from a man, which kind of made sense since she pretty much avoided men. But for the next few days she couldn’t avoid this one, not completely. At least she’d have her own space at the hotel. After checking in she’d spend the afternoon preparing for her meeting with the regional VP of the Mercy Medical Corporation.

Spencer walked up the Jetway beside her. “Have you ever been to Texas before?”

“No.”

“I’ll have to show you the sights.”

“That’s okay. There probably won’t be time.” Not if she was lucky.

For the first time, keeping her distance from Spencer Stone didn’t come easily. Apparently he’d weakened her emotional defense system as easily as he’d managed her fear of flying.

They exited the Jetway and walked through the waiting area at the gate, then followed the signs to baggage claim. There was a revolving door and after negotiating it, the next step was to find the carousel that corresponded to their flight number. That didn’t take long, but the little elves who unloaded the luggage from the plane took their sweet time. Finally, the warning buzzer and light signaled that the conveyor belt was starting up and spit out suitcases, backpacks and boxes.

Spencer grabbed her bag and before she could process the fact that he’d recognized it, he snagged his own.

“We have to catch the shuttle for the rental car lot,” he said.

“Is it that far?”

He laughed ruefully. “Like everything else in the Lone Star state, DFW airport is big. There’s a centrally located rental car facility about ten minutes away, not counting stops at the other four terminals to pick up passengers.”

“Okay, then.” She connected her carry-on bag to the bigger suitcase, leaving just one handle to pull. “I’ll follow you.”

They went down the escalator to the first floor where ground transportation was located. Their shuttle was waiting, which was lucky. As it turned out, that was all the luck she got for the rest of the day. She turned on her cell phone and listened to a message from Chloe. Her Friday meeting had been canceled.

When they were settled the van moved forward, out into the sunlight, as it negotiated the curving and intricate roads onto the main highway. That’s when Avery could see the airport and signs directing cars to terminals A, B, C, D and E.

She could only see out one side of the vehicle, but it was enough to get an impression. “Texas is really flat.”

“Around here,” he agreed. “There are hilly parts that we natives call—wait for it—Hill Country.”

“No way,” she teased. “How original. Must be named by a man.”

“Are you saying that men have no imagination?”

“Yes. And a distinct lack of poetry. They just name it what it is.”

“And that’s bad—why?” he asked. “There’s nothing wrong with straightforward.”

She couldn’t argue with that. The problem was that in her experience men weren’t always up front and honest, her first lesson being when she was a pregnant seventeen-year-old. It was a good thing she didn’t have to meet Spencer’s folks. Apparently they had no tolerance for flaws and she had too many to count. One look at her and she’d be outted as unworthy.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer’s deep voice snapped her to attention.

“Nothing.” She had to figure out what she was doing tomorrow. “I’m just trying to take it all in.”

“Don’t bother. There’s not much to see until we get out of the airport.”

She nodded and just watched buildings go by. There were planes parked here and there, which indicated maintenance facilities. Then the shuttle exited the highway, turned left and followed the road for a few miles where it pulled into a lot. After grabbing their luggage, they walked into the air-conditioned building and found a spot in the line that formed.

“Since the reservation’s in my name,” Spencer said, “I can handle the paperwork.”

“Okay. I’ll keep an eye on your bag.”

She stood out of the way and watched him work his way closer to the counter. More than one woman did a double-take after noticing tall, handsome, hunky Spencer Stone. So, the women in Texas weren’t immune to his charisma any more than the females in Las Vegas. It wasn’t a comforting thought. He had the trifecta of temptation—above average good looks, charm and sense of humor.