Free Playboy Doctor by Kimberly Llewellyn Page A

her. He had to release all thoughts of her. Starting right now—
    An errand boy holding up a plastic garment bag entered the lounge.
    "Excuse me, Dr. Edwards?"
    "Yes?"
    "I have a dry cleaning delivery for you." The young man held up the clear bag with an order slip attached.
    Confused, Shayne looked at the order. "I didn't send out laundry."
    "Well, someone did. And prepaid for the speedy, same-day service. Tip and everything." The young man handed over the garment bag, spun around, and bowed out.
    Shayne lifted the hanger high to get a better look at what it could possibly be.
    His collared white shirt.
    The one unbuttoned just so last night, torturing him with a curve of Willow's breast. And a teasing of her slender thigh. The sensual memory once again haunted him.
    She didn't need to do it. Didn't need to get the shirt laundered to be rid of it so fast. To be rid of him so fast. If she thought it would wash away the memory of her in it, then she'd thought wrong. Her efforts were useless. With a low growl, he slung the garment on the back of a chair, and then left the lounge in search of her.

 
     
     
    Chapter 7

     
    Willow plopped the file down on the reception desk, not caring how her behavior looked to the staff bustling around her. She couldn't help the frustration lapping through her over Shayne. She'd be facing him soon for a so-called chat but didn't know what to expect. Throughout the day, she'd done everything in her power not to dwell on last night, but nothing worked. How could she have lost control so easily? And with the irredeemable Shayne Edwards, of all people?
    To think, she blurted out to him she had an ex-husband.
    She didn't care if he knew she'd been married. It was no secret. But the tone to her flippant comment gave a little too much insight; the marriage had been a disaster. When it came to the failed relationship, she wanted to keep the details to herself. But before her internal filter could censor what flew from her lips, the words had catapulted out of her mouth. She cringed.
    "Stupid, utterly stupid," she murmured. She didn't need Shayne to know any more about her past than necessary. She'd done a fine job keeping her personal life to herself as she was still coming to terms with her past. She didn't need to drag Shayne into it.
    Emmy sidled up beside her, and then nudged her with her hip. "What's utterly stupid?"
    Willow pasted on a furtive smile. "Nothing. Just blubbering to myself."
    "I've never seen you like this. Did Dr. Edwards do something to you to get you riled up?"
    "It wasn't his fault," she said.
    "Whoa. What, exactly, wasn't his fault?"
    Willow brought her fingers to her temples. "Gosh, Emmy, things just got, well, confusing, last night at his place."
    "Double whoa. His place?" Emmy kept her shocked expression on her friend.
    "I stayed there last night, with him, at his place. I'm flooded out of my bungalow and you didn't answer your phone, so technically it's all your fault."
    The remark got her a laugh. "Nice try, but you can't blame this on me. I was volunteering at a shelter last night. So what exactly is my fault? What happened?"
    "We accidentally—I mean—it was on purpose I think, but we didn't mean to..."
    "You didn't mean to what?" Emmy pressed.
    "Kiss?" Willow eeked out.
    "Are you asking me or telling me?"
    Willow buried her face in her hands. "Telling you, okay? Yes. We kissed. But don't worry, it will never happen again. Never."
    "Why not?"
    "Other than because he's my boss?" Willow drew her worrisome face back up to Emmy.
    "Besides being your boss. I mean, did he get out of hand? Do something terrible?"
    "Isn't a kiss terrible enough?" she asked.
    "So you kissed a gorgeous surgeon. What's so terrible about that?"
    Besides making her furiously distracted? Then, no, he hadn't done anything terrible at all. In fact, it had been wonderful.
    "Okay, so it wasn't terrible," was all Willow would admit. She toyed with an errant lock of her hair.
    "Good. But you would tell