Free Curing Doctor Vincent (The Good Doctor Trilogy Book 1) by Renea Mason Page A

than an interesting fuck would destroy me. I
had to put a stop to it. “Borrowed.”
    “Come again?” The doctor shifted toward me.
    Marco snickered. “Give her a minute. One at a time, X.”
    The doctor leaned back slightly and shot Marco the most
disapproving look. “What did you say, Elaine?”
    “I said, borrowed. You said collected. Treasured. I
corrected you. A true collector does not discard a precious gem, never to think
of it again. A collector preens over his works. Sets it upon a pedestal. Revels
in the well-fought hunt. It’s the possession that fuels his dedication. You,
dear Doctor, are not a collector, you are a library cardholder and I am the
story of the week.”
    Marco laughed and squeezed my thigh. “I like you more
every minute.”
    Xavier Vincent stared out the window. Silence was his only
response.

 
 
 
 
    Chapter Seven
    Rainmaker

 
    The car pulled up to the curb of a quaint French boutique.
The cold shoulder I’d received for the remainder of the ride, made me ponder
the possible changes in the doctor’s plans. Was he so aggravated with me he’d
send me on my way? The car door opened and his outstretched hand surprised me. I
didn’t know which lines could be blurred. Sometimes touching seemed allowed,
but only when it was a formality. Perhaps he wasn’t angry with me after all. The
cobblestone street led to slate tiled sidewalks and to the window of Désir Secrets .
    Beyond my reflection, photos of men and women in various
seductive poses were accessorized with fresh flower accents to help soften the
hard lines of each sculpted body. The floral arrangements and feminine
architecture added old-world ambiance even while the art appeared minimal and
modern.
    Xavier steadied me by my elbow as I rose from the car. “This
was Lydia’s hobby,” he said while pulling me to my feet.
    I smoothed my dress but said nothing.
    The doctor whispered something to the driver and Marco
placed a hand on the small of my back.
    The tinkling bells, hanging from the interior door handle,
painted a mental picture very different from what greeted me. The room was
expansive, stark white, and held no hint of the character the exterior ironwork
and stucco hinted at.
    It was a gallery—stripped down so the art became the
focus.
    From a side room emerged a beautiful, leggy woman. “Xavier,”
the woman said, breathy and seductive. He released my hand and approached her.
    “Patrice! It has been too long.” He took the woman’s hand
and kissed the back of it. Her large breasts overflowed the cups of her curve-hugging
dress. She had a body any woman would die for.
    “I thought we were beyond formalities.” She kissed him on
one cheek, and then the other and he returned the favor.
    Xavier slid his arm around the woman’s waist and something
in me snarled. My body tensed. He wasn’t mine. Damn him for all the extra words
of adoration. Only sex. It’s supposed to be only sex.
    Marco noticed. “You don’t like seeing him with her. Do
you?”
    “Why would I care?”
    “Don’t let my tight ass and good hair fool you; I’m not an
idiot.”
    I glared at him for a moment, but couldn’t keep my eyes
off the doctor and the bombshell. “You’re wrong.”
    “Elaine, I see it in your eyes every time you look at him.
I don’t know if you’ve fallen in love with him or the idea of him, but either
way…”
    “It’s nonsense.” I took a step away from Marco. And
without thinking the words left my mouth, “Why is it so easy for him to touch
her?”
    “He’s not having sex with her.”
    “Yet.” I huffed.
    “She means nothing to him. That’s why it’s easy.”
    I heard his words, but the way the doctor’s hands slid up
and down the woman’s arms made me wonder. Watching his long fingers rest on her
hip filled me with rage.
    “I don’t get it. He’d never touch me like that.”
    Marco stepped closer and wrapped his arm around me,
pulling me closer. He breathed into my ear, “Exactly.”
    I