Page 20 of A Sight to Behold
Nick led her up the stairs and to the door of 87 Harley Street. “This is my office. Well, it’s the foyer of my…this is where I work.” Nick opened the door for her. She walked past him and left a delicious scent in her wake. He didn’t have time to analyze what she smelled like, as his body reacted, and he found himself eager to sit down at his exam table to hide the evidence of his arousal. Now, he bent to undo Chromius’s leash. The dog shook the rainwater off and then tick-ticked across the floor toward the kitchen, tail wagging. It was time for breakfast. For him, anyway.
“I’m sorry he jumped you… ahem…” Nick rubbed the back of his neck as words failed him. But then he saw that Pippa was struggling to remove her soaking wet, wool pelisse, and reached to help her. His hands were shaking—not a thing a surgeon like him was used to. But he’d jump her like Chromius if he didn’t have so many scruples.
“Is he a fox terrier?”
“He is indeed. Do you know much about dogs?” Nick was pleased that she liked his furry companion so much, although he couldn’t quite explain why it was important to him.
“I think most animals have far better traits than humans.” She bit her lip and a flush of pink spread quickly over her cheeks. “Present company excluded, of course.”
“Of course.” Nick broke into a smile. He liked her more and more, including the clumsy truths she let slip. She made his heart light up.
“I must say that I have never been to an oculist’s office before, Dr. Folsham.” She walked right into Nick’s office without waiting for him to invite her; the door was open, but she’d probably seen his name on the door. Curiously, she took a stroll through his exam room as if it were Almack’s and she was taking a turn about the room. Instead of a ball gown, she wore a dress that was cut rather plain. Instead of an elegant coiffe, her hair was tied loosely in a sort of braid and tied up with a plain whiteribbon. And she wore sensible walking shoes with sturdy soles instead of dancing slippers. And yet, her posture was straight and her gaze so intelligent that he couldn’t look away. There was something far more elegant and charming about her than Nick had ever seen in other aristocratic ladies.
“I did invite you here to confirm my diagnosis.”Drat!A beautiful woman came to his office, and he went into automatic doctor mode. Stupid.
She met his gaze. “Oh, I hadn’t made up my mind yet—”
“But you’re already here.”Please, don’t go away.He’d be so angry at himself if he scared her away. He wasn’t used to talking to women, unless they were patients. He didn’t go to balls. He wasn’t invited. He was of the wrong class of person, after all.
“Very well.” Her voice was quiet and her words hesitant. Was she feeling insecure, too? Abouthim?
At least he had an excuse for her to stay. He wanted nothing more than to spend a little more time with her. If he focused on what he knew best—medicine—perhaps things would fall into place. At the very least, he wouldn’t appear to be the bumbling boy that he currently felt like.
He would treat her like any other patient. That would work. He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. “Feel free to explore, milady. I shall set up the exam over here.” Nick moved to rinse his hands in the wash basin by the wall cabinet. When he looked up, Pippa stood before the window, backlit with the gloomy light from the rainy morning. Yet, even in such a drab gray light, she was aglow.
He turned away to pull out a series of lenses from where they were kept, and when he turned back, she was attempting to peruse the shelf of books behind Nick’s writing desk, although with her condition he doubted she was successful in reading any of them. The thought occurred to him that because of hisskills, this beautiful vison wouldhavebeautiful vision. A fanciful thought, but Pippa inspired fancy, he thought.
When she turned to face him, she looked almost rosy with the golden curls cascading down her neck. Her complexion was even and clear, and Nick thought of a poem he’d read once about alabaster skin. What had seemed silly at the time was apt in this moment. Atop her head, the loosely braided bit of her hair had come loose, and a strand of silky blond hair spiraled down, barely touching her collarbone. Nick swallowed hard for it was a gorgeous view of her modestly covered neck. Unbidden, a fantasy of placing a slow and gentle kiss just at the nape of her neck rose in his mind.
He shook his head to dislodge the image. “You may take a seat here, please.” He gestured to the chair meant for patients.
“Is anything the matter, Dr. Folsham?” Pippa asked as she took the seat across from him.
“Not at all, milady. Shall we begin?”
“I’m a bit nervous,” she said as she surveyed the lenses. “What are these for?”
“I will use the lenses to determine the degree of your farsightedness. But first, I need to determine the general health of your eyes.”
“Do you suspect anything wrong besides the lens…what is it called again?”
“I do not, but it is my job to ensure all is well. Shall we proceed?” Nick propped his elbow on the table and turned his palm upward. She instinctively knew what to do—most patients did—and stretched her neck until her chin rested on his fingertips. Nick tensed again and wished he could stop the erection under the table, but he was grateful that the table was made of solid wood and hiding his crotch. And, he supposed, he was grateful—at least, in this instance—for her farsightedness, though that was daring of him.
“Would you please tell me what you are doing?” She blinked. “I’m a little anxious.”
“Certainly, milady.” That was easy, for he’d worked with plenty of students and nervous patients before and was quite used to talking through the steps of an ophthalmic exam. Though sitting across such a gorgeous woman with such a bone-deep effect on him was a first. “I shall, in succession, glance at the eyebrows and orbital margins,”
“Why?”
“To rule out inflammation or look for excessive lachrymation, which might distort my subjective exam.” She frowned and appeared somewhat alarmed, and Nick realized he’d used medical terminology instead of speaking a language more familiar to people who weren’t doctors. “That is to say, an excessive secretion of tears due to disease or other systemic issues.”
“Oh.” She pursed her lips and blinked at him with her wide, round eyes. Her lashes were darker than the sun-kissed curls on her head, the irises bright green with clear strands of blue the shade of lapis lazuli. “I guess that’s all right, then.”
Nick smiled and moved closer. She kept her beautiful eyes wide open and blinked with a girl’s innocence but the allure of a minx. She didn’t seem to know how just beautiful she was. Or how she affected him. Even now, Nick shuddered because it was so difficult to control his arousal. Even when tending to his work and her condition, his heart and libido had other ideas. He cleared his throat and drew his brows down low over the bridge of his nose in an attempt to get himself to focus. “Next, I’m watching the movements of your eyes, and the surrounding areas. The eyelids, the borders of the lids, and the state of your lashes—”
She withdrew her head slightly and blinked “My eyelashes, Dr. Folsham, they’re quite exactly like my mother’s.”
“Perfection,” he whispered. It was inappropriate. Scandalous to compliment a patient. But he didn’t want her as a patient, and he didn’t care, for it was the truth. He’d hardly ever seen eyes more beautiful and expressive than hers. “The form and appearance of the eyeballs generally seems healthy, milady. Follow my finger.”
