Teresa Southwick - Holding Out for Doctor Perfect

“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.

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.”