Page 73 of Doctor Mile High
Walking around to her side, I open her door like the queen she is. She swings one leg out, the slit of her dress parting for me to see her long, smooth leg.
“Fuck, you better hurry before I get you back into this car,” I growl in warning.
She grins, taking my hand. “I can’t wait until we’re home later,” she whispers. “I really love you in a tuxedo. Something about the refined, elegant appearance makes me want to mess it up.”
“Dove,” I scold. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Then, it’s a good thing I like the heat.” She looks at me over her shoulder, batting those eyelashes at me.
She makes it so tempting to give up my responsibilities so I can be with her twenty-four hours a day. Maybe it’s time for me to cut back. If I really wanted to, I could even retire. We have plenty of money to live on. It wouldn’t be a struggle. We would have a great life and so would our children.
And their children.
I offer her my arm, and Dove loops her arm through mine, her heels clicking against the pavement as we walk to the elevators.
“Who will be there tonight? Anyone I know?”
“Probably not, but that’s okay. They’re all in the medical field somehow. I hate these things. I always feel out of place, so if you say you want to go, we will.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Exiting the elevators, the cool air of the night breezes against my face and cools my heated skin. Flashes of what we just did in the car play in my mind. Her gasps, her cries, the way the windows fogged from the exertion.
My cock is hardening again just at the thought.
“Woah, Winston. You didn’t tell me this was a red carpet event? The paparazzi are here.”
“They always want to get a glimpse at who will show up. Some celebrities make an appearance sometimes. Pay the cameras no mind.” I step onto the street, holding out my hand for Dove to take.
She’s nervous.
Taking a deep breath, she steps down, and we walk across the street to the main event.
Immediately, the cameras are on us. Flashes from the cameras are blinding. Dove’s hold on me intensifies.
“Dr. Warrick! Is it true you delivered a baby on a plane?”
“Dr. Warrick, what happened between you and Dr. Vainton?”
I lean in. “Calling him a doctor is a stretch. If you’ll excuse me.” I tug Dove behind me, needing to get away from these people before Dove decides this is too much for her.
The doormen open the front doors to allow us in, security blocking the paparazzi’s entrance. They’re never allowed in.
“Are you okay? Did they touch you?” I cup her face, checking her all over for any type of mark. If there was one scratch on her, I’d ruin any career the photographer had.
“I’m okay. I’m okay. Winston.” She snags my hands to stop me. “I’m fine. Let’s go to the gala. We can be in and out just like you said.”
Kissing her hand, we head to the ballroom, and the moment the doors open, Dove inhales an audible breath.
“Oh, wow. This is gorgeous.” There are chandeliers evenly spaced out, crystals polished and shined to the point that theyglisten. Guests are here in their best attire, evening gowns of all different designs, but Dove is the most beautiful by far.
Caterers walk around carrying silver trays with filled champagne flutes and one of them stops directly in front of us. “Champagne?” he asks.
“No, thank you. Do you have something without alcohol?” Dove asks. “Sparkling water, perhaps?”
“Me as well. Thank you.” I slip the man a hundred-dollar bill.
“Right away, Dr. Warrick.”
