Teresa Southwick - Holding Out for Doctor Perfect

“So says the hospital controller,” her friend Ryleigh pointed out.

“That’s my job title, not personality.” She got mad every time she thought about the pressure Spencer Stone had put on her. “What part of no doesn’t he understand?”

“Now’s not the time—”

“Yeah, it is.” Avery was warming to her subject. Even her friend’s weird eye-rolling and nodding her head toward the doorway didn’t penetrate the tirade. “I swear, if I ever meet a nice doctor, I’d have sex with him at that moment—”

“Avery—” Ryleigh was dragging her hand across her throat, the universal cut-off sign.

She felt her stomach drop and heat spread through her. “He’s behind me, isn’t he?”

TERESA SOUTHWICKlives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Mills & Boon.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Neel V. Dhudshia, MD, the right doctor in the right place at the right time. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving it one more try.

Avery O’Neill had guilty secrets, but her attitude toward a certain cardiothoracic surgeon wasn’t one of them.

She stopped pacing long enough to look at Ryleigh Evans, her best friend. “It’s bad enough that I have to put up with Spencer Stone at your wedding. Far be it from me to question your future husband’s taste in a best man. But I just found out I have to go to Dallas with him.”

This was Ryleigh’s office and she was behind the desk, watching Avery walk back and forth to work off her frustration. Her brown eyes sparkled with more than bridal happiness. She was also rocking a pregnancy glow with a baby due in four months. She was a beautiful brunette and happiness made her more beautiful than ever.

“Why do you have to go with him?” she asked.

“For months I’ve been telling Stone that the surgical robotic system he’s lusting after—just like he lusts after every attractive single female employee at Mercy Medical Center is not in the budget. He went over my head to my boss, who pointed out that Doctor Heartthrob brings patients, publicity and revenue to Mercy Medical Center. In short, he’s the golden boy and we need to keep him happy.”

“And just how are you going to do that?” Her friend Ryleigh’s tone dripped with double entendre.

“Don’t go there.”

Avery certainly wasn’t planning to. Spencer Stone was only interested in casual sex—and that didn’t interest her. She knew his type—big man on campus. The guy that girls couldn’t say no to. In high school she’d learned the hard way that there were consequences for not saying no and sleeping with that guy. Hers were an unplanned pregnancy and a newborn daughter she’d had to give up for adoption.

Her gaze dropped to her friend’s baby bump and the way she absently and protectively rubbed her hand over the swell of the growing child. A familiar envy, longing and sadness rolled through her. Avery covered it the way she always did, by being prickly. Ryleigh teased that it was one of her best qualities, but she’d never confided her guilty secret, not even to her best friend.

“I have to go with Stone to talk to the financial people and find out if this Star Wars technology is fiscally feasible.”

“And what will he be doing while you’re playing with numbers?”

“He’ll be playing with the really expensive Star Wars technology.”

Ryleigh nodded sagely. “Well, I can see their point. Hospital administration doesn’t want him to contract his considerable skills to another facility. But he’s officially really good at fixing hearts.”

“Good thing because he breaks so many. He’s a pain in the butt.”

Ryleigh slid her a look of exaggerated patience. “You’ll get to know him better at the wedding. I promise not to say I told you so when you find out you’re wrong about Spencer. If he were as bad as you think, Nick wouldn’t like him or ask him to be his wingman for vow-taking.”

The day after tomorrow her best friend was remarrying Dr. Nick Damian, the love of her life and father of her unborn child. Avery was the maid of honor, which meant she’d have to play nice. But that was two days away and now, she was annoyed. “Stone’s a jerk.”

“Not true. He’s a really nice guy.”

“Right.” Avery folded her arms over her chest and faced the desk with her back to the open office door. “I’ve yet to meet a surgeon who isn’t full of himself, a total control freak.”

“So says the hospital controller,” Ryleigh pointed out.

“Job title not personality.” She got mad every time she thought about the pressure Spencer Stone had put on her. He buried her in emails with a subject line of 9-1-1, or stat, or Code Red. When that didn’t work he tracked her down in the hospital wherever she happened to be, although so far he hadn’t breached the sanctity of the ladies’ room. “What part of no doesn’t he understand?”

“Now’s not the time—”

“Yeah, it is.” Avery was warming to her subject. Even her friend’s weird eye-rolling and nodding her head toward the doorway didn’t penetrate the tirade. “I swear if I ever meet a nice doctor, I’d have sex with him at that moment—”

“Avery—” Ryleigh was dragging her hand across her throat, the universal cutoff sign.

She felt her stomach drop and heat spread through her. “He’s behind me, isn’t he?”

“I understand we’re traveling together. Hello, Avery.” Heart-of-Stone himself walked up beside her. His grin was wicked. The expression on his face was full of the devil. “And since I’m a really nice surgeon and dressed appropriately, it looks like we’ll be having sex, too.”

“Don’t be mean, Spencer,” Ryleigh scolded. “I defended you. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make a liar out of me.”

Avery didn’t know what to say. She’d just insulted the brilliant doctor that hospital administration was jumping through hoops to keep happy. They were traveling together because he wanted a robot and she had to crunch the numbers to make it happen. If Stone said take a flying leap, her boss would ask how high and how many times. If Stone said fire Avery O’Neill, they would have her severance ready faster than you could say “may the force be with you.”

She looked at her friend because she couldn’t look at him. “You need to give me a bigger shut-the-heck-up motion next time.”

“Next time?” Spencer rested a hip on the corner of Ryleigh’s desk. His piercing green eyes snapped with intelligence. Dark blond hair was cut military short and suited his square-jawed face. It just wasn’t fair that he made the green scrubs he wore hot as a sexy kiss under a full moon. “You have plans to trash talk me again, Tinker Bell?”

She winced, but didn’t say anything. He called her that because she was five feet tall, barely weighed a hundred pounds and her blond hair was cut in a short pixie style. Ryleigh had said the look suited her but the nickname didn’t do a whole lot for her professional image.

“Was there something you wanted, Spencer?” Ryleigh asked. She reached into a desk drawer and pulled out her purse before standing.

“Just wanted to double check on the wedding rehearsal time,” he said.

“Tomorrow. Six-thirty at the house. We’re taking the wedding party to dinner after.”