Page 109 of Dr. Attending

Weston snaps his fingers, redirecting my attention.

“You’re interested in helping with my surgical clinic, are you not?” he asks coolly. “I’m not sure how you could forget after the numerous emails you sent me, begging for a chance to work together.”

I try not to flinch as Weston studies me.

“Uh—” I blink, wracking my brain to figure out what the hell he’s talking about.

We’ve literally never had this conversation before, and as far as I know, there isn’t even a surgical clinic at this hospital.

“Starstruck.” The man beside me chuckles warmly. “Happens all the time to my students.”

Weston purses his lips like he’s displeased. “Or maybe she’s just wasting my time. Please leave, Ms. Winters.”

Instinctively, I want to argue, to defend myself—though I don’t even know what I’m defending myself against. But before I can open my mouth, the man seems to take my side.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he drawls, his tone smooth and velvety. “Let’s not be so hasty now, Dr. Southerland.”

He glances at me with an almost too-perfect smile before turning back to Weston. “I think this young lady could have a ton ofpotential.”

Weston’s lips thin, like he’s thinking it over. “She’s going to have to prove it.”

“I’m sure she can show us exactly what she’s good for. Can’t you, darling?” The man gestures to the black leather chair beside him, his large hand waving me forward.

I swallow hard, uneasiness crawling up my spine as I fumble to remove his backpack on my shoulder and place it on the floor next to my feet. I lower myself into the chair, my eyes flicking to Weston.

His face softens for a beat, almost like a break in his character to reassure me that everything is okay.

I give him a small nod, and almost instantly, his expression hardens again, sharp as glass.

Whatever this is, it’s a game.

“Ms. Winters,” he says, jerking his chin toward the man beside me. “This is Dr. Worth Daley.”

I frown because the name sounds familiar, but I can’t figure out where I know it from.

“Um, nice to meet you, Dr. Daley,” I reply, turning toward him with a hesitant smile. “How do you know We . . . uh . . . Dr. Southerland?”

His lips twitch with amusement, but he lets my slip slide without comment. “A mutual friend introduced us. He’s been helping me with some research of my own, actually. And since I was in town for a conference, I thought I’d stop by to thank him.”

I can’t tell if he’s serious or not, but I decide to play along.

“That was nice of you . . . so, are you a surgeon as well?”

“Plastics.” He laughs and shifts in his seat so that he can better face me. “I prefer to make things beautiful, not tear them apart like our ex-trauma God over here.”

He winks at Weston before smirking at me. “Well, at least not when it comes to my professional interests, that is.”

I suck in a quick breath because the first thing that comes to mind is sexual.

“So your research was . . . personal, then?”

Alarm bells start sounding in my head as soon as I get the words out because I realize that’s where I know his name from—he’s the guy who made the kink quiz.

My cheeks heat because that means this man knows far too much about me. He knows that I like pain. That I enjoy being tied up. Choked. That I’m interested in role play . . .

Oh my god.

Role play.

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