Page 8 of Dr. Stone
“Yeah, that’s the story. Like I said, it wasn’t me, but that doctor got what he deserved for holding up an emergency surgery on the busiest fucking night at that place,” he said, seemingly unamused by whatever happened behind the scenes.
“How so?” I was curious. “Ash never gets too personal with her stories, so I don’t know what happened.”
“Well, he was fired, of course, but that was just the last of a stack of reasons he’s no longer employed at Saint John’s. He was banging like four different chicks and had a wife at home. It was a basic recipe for self-destruction.”
“That’s pathetic,” I answered.
“I agree,” he nodded. “I may be a lot of things and might’ve broken a lot of hearts, but a cruel man is one thing I will never be. I love the ladies, but I’m not trying to ruin anyone’s lives like that guy did.”
“You say that,” I became more serious, “but you just admitted you’ve broken many hearts?”
He nodded. “I did, and I have,” he grinned and took another sip of his scotch. “But I make it very clear to every woman I’ve hooked up with that I’m not looking for a relationship, just like one of your rules dictates. I sadly cannot be responsible for their feelings, hearts, or emotions after that.”
“Very true. You know, you seem like a decent guy,” I said with a smile. “My ex was a filthy cheater who—” I clamped my mouth shut when I found myself opening up to the guy about my private life.
That could’ve been a recipe for disaster.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he caught me and smiled. “No emotions, remember?”
I abruptly stood and smiled when he followed my lead, ready to get out of here.
I downed my drink and set the glass on the table. He pulled my arm into his.
“I remember,” I said, arching a brow at him as he smirked down at me, “and since I don’t want to become another casualty of yours, we need to get to work on the particular job I just hired you for.”
For a second, I almost stopped walking. But this wasn’t about falling for anyone. This was about reclaiming my life — and doing it in a dangerously fun way.
We sauntered toward the elevators to the yacht’s staterooms, presumably leaving our friends in collective shock over what was about to transpire between this gorgeous man and me.
FIVE
Jace
I liked this woman—lovedmight be the wrong word, but my body had already decided. I could admire the way the moon lit her sun-kissed skin and not worry about morning-after attachments.
That was my rule. Clear lines, clean exits.
I wasn’t a complete bastard. I never lied about what I was or what I wasn’t. I didn’t make promises I couldn’t keep. If a woman started catching feelings, I stepped back before I caused damage. That was the point of nights like this: honesty wrapped in heat. And Andie Miller? She’d met me right there. No illusions. No requests. Just a spark we both intended to burn through.
I closed my stateroom door and let purpose take the wheel. The boat hummed beneath us, the ocean reflecting in silver across the windows, and Andie stood in the center of it all like she owned every ripple of light in the room.
I turned her to me and pulled her in. Blonde waves slid over her shoulders, catching the low lamp glow. She smelled intoxicating, like ocean air over warm spice, salt and heat, summer and sin. For the first time in a long time, I had to remind myself to breathe.
I studied her for a brief moment, taking the essence of her in. Carefree. Confident. Unforgettable.
And that damn smile—Christ. It was wicked and inviting, as if she knew a secret I’d been waiting my entire life to hear. I’d prided myself on being the charming one who set the pace. Tonight, I’d fallen right off that horse, and I liked the view from here even better.
My thumb traced the cut of her cheekbone, heat rolling under her skin. Her hazel eyes, touched with gold, flickered between challenge and curiosity.
That look did something to me.
I’d been with plenty of women, but the way she looked at me, like she could see past the layers I let the world see and still wanted more, threw me off balance in a way I couldn’t name.
I went to the zipper of her dress.
No fumbling. No fucking around.
The yellow fabric slipped effortlessly down her body and pooled at her heels. Lace framed her breasts, barely concealing hard peaks in the cool air. I cupped her face and kissed her like I’d been starving for it, because I had. Her mouth opened against mine with a soft sound that shot straight through my control.
