Page 13 of Doc Hollywood

Why couldn’t it just be a normal man? I mean, that would have been bad enough. But a Hollywood star who was used to the taut and perfect Hollywood women, not a thirty-five-year-old doctor who ate more chocolate than was advisable, most days didn’t manage to eat five different fruits and vegetables, actually if she was being honest, some days she didn’t even manage a token apple. And would benefit from doing some more exercise. She was beyond mortified.

She took a few deep breaths to steal her nerves and got out of the shower. Dried herself off and peered out of her bathroom door to make sure he had left her room, then hurried to her wardrobe to get dressed.

Clara glanced at her bed, noticing the clear indentation and shook her head. Taylor freaking Anderson had sat on her bed. She giggled to herself at the improbability of the situation and took a few more calming breaths before she left her room.

When she got to the kitchen, Taylor was dressed and ready to leave.

“Did you find the coffee and some food?” Clara decided her best approach to the embarrassing situation was to ignore it had happened and carry on like she usually would.

“Yeah. I’ve mainlined six coffees and now feel a bit more like a human again.” He grinned, not his usual movie star smile, designed to be wholesome and appealing. Instead, it was a genuine grin that lit up his whole face.

Clara stood there, blinking at him, a little startled at the attractiveness of the man in front of her. Before she pulled herself together and realised he had a coffee in his hand and had offered it to her.

“I thought you could use this. You didn’t appear to get much of your last one.” He pushed the cup forward.

She froze for a millisecond, recalling him seeing her topless, then shook it off, reached out and took the coffee.

Her fingers brushed his, and she felt a small fission run through her arm. She immediately wrote it off as her being a ridiculous girl in the presence of a movie star.

“Thanks.” She took a large gulp of the drink, grimacing as the hot liquid burnt down her throat.

“What are we doing today?” Taylor took a sip of coffee and looked at her expectantly.

“What?” Her eyes widened, figuring she needed some more caffeine, as she was sure he just implied he was going to spend another day with her.

“What operations are you doing? What sort of thing am I going to learn from you?” he said eagerly.

“Okay. Um, sorry. You’re coming to work with me again? Why?” The words came out more accusingly than she meant them to.

“Oh. I was told I could shadow a doctor for the whole week. I can find someone else if you want.” He trailed off and stared at her.

Clara blushed under the scrutiny of his vivid blue eyes and was about to tell him that he should when she noticed the pleading expression on his face.

“No. It’s fine. I’m happy to take you around again today. We don’t want your cover blown by letting too many people know you’re here.”

He grinned broadly at her agreement, pulled his black-rimmed glasses out of his back pocket and put them on.

“Ah yes, very Clark Kent. Glasses on, Clark Kent. Glasses off, Superman!” she joked as she took another sip of the liquid energy that she would need at least three more of to get through the day.

“Without glasses, I’m Superman?” Taylor queried, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, kind of. You know. Glasses on, glasses off,” Clara rambled on.

“And you’re not seeing the irony in what you’re saying?” He lifted an eyebrow in question.

“Glasses on, glasses off,” she muttered and then took another sip of her drink as her eyes darted around, trying to work out what he was getting at.

His lips quirked up, and he repeated, “Glasses on, glasses off.”

“Yeah.” She took another sip of her coffee, glancing under her eyelashes at the large man standing in her kitchen.

Her eyebrows pulled together as her brain began functioning with the jolt of caffeine coursing through her veins. Why did his name and Superman seem to go so well together?

She thought back to some of the movies Jack had dragged her to see. There had never been any question about her selecting the film; it was always her ex’s choice.

Actually, now she thought about it, in the entire time they had been together, he had never once let her decide what they saw at the cinema.

Towards the end of their relationship, when she was exhausted by work, study and tiptoeing around him to make sure he didn’t find a reason to blow up at her, she would use the time in the cinema to catch up on a bit of sleep.

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