Page 5 of Tempting the Doctor

Refusing to dwell on it further, I turn my attention to the professionals in front of me whodidshow up on time. Since I can’t get the group shot without Trey, I decide to start on the individual shots.

I walk over to a handsome man wearing a soft navy sweater and gray slacks. He’s a professor at Columbia University who has a double doctorate in chemistry and biology. I lead him over to his set up, explaining that we’re going to have one of those science project volcanoes with red food coloring, vinegar, and baking soda erupting while he stands behind it. I expect him to give me a lecture on how this is beneath him, but he thinks it’s a hoot. He makes all kinds of silly faces as the volcano oozes its foamy red lava, hamming it up to the delight of the photographer. Despite my frustration over a certain missing doctor, I can’t help but laugh along.

The professor continues with his lighthearted antics and begins to play with the lava that’s running down the sides of the volcano. When the photographer calls a break, he walks over to me, sporting a happy grin.

“How was that?” he asks.

“That was great,” I say, returning his smile. I reach up to wipe a little bit of foam from his cheek, and he blushes at the contact. Realizing what I’ve done, I quickly drop my hand and take a step back. Something catches the professor’s eye over my shoulder, and his face pales. At the same time, the skin on the back of my neck tingles, all the tiny hairs standing on end.

I turn around quickly and lock eyes with Trey as he walks across the room toward me. I take another step away from the professor, as if I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t have been.

He stops in front of me, and the expression on his face can only be described as livid. I can’t imagine why he would be upset though. If anyone has a right to be mad, it’s me.

“I don’t have much time,” he says gruffly before I can get a word out.

I count to ten and blow out a breath to hide the fury that sweeps over me. My anger is mostly at myself because, despite how infuriating he is, I’m still happy to see him.

“Maybe you would have more time if you’d bothered to show up when you say you will,” I say through gritted teeth.

I turn and walk toward the wardrobe racks, and he strides along beside me, so close I can feel the heat from his big body.

“I told you I’d do my best to be here and here I am. I can’t help that emergencies sometimes happen,” he snaps.

I stop and look at him. It hadn’t occurred to me that there might have been a medical emergency that waylaid him. “Is that why you’re late? There was an emergency?” I ask.

“Yes, a middle-aged mother of two had a heart attack,” he responds.

I suck in a breath, all of my anger gone in an instant. “Is she okay?”

“She is. With some diet and lifestyle changes, she’ll make a full recovery.”

“Good,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief, then lead him into a dressing room. He closes the door behind us, closing me in with him. My breathing picks up, and an unfamiliar heat tightens my core at the thought of being alone with him in a small room.

Stop it, you’re working, I tell myself.

Walking to a small table against the far wall, I pick up a pair of blue scrubs that have been embroidered with his name, and a model heart.

“We’ve got this for you to wear,” I say, gesturing with the scrubs. “Then, we’ll get some photos of you with this heart.”

With an eye roll, he begins unbuttoning his shirt and shrugs out of it. Despite my age and living in the big city for several years, I am not the least bit experienced with men. Trey is the pinnacle of masculinity, and I’m mesmerized by his rock-hard pecs and ripped abs. A light dusting of coarse dark hair covers his chest and makes a trail down his belly, disappearing beneath the waist of his pants.

Trey looks at me with a raised brow and a playful smirk on his lips. His hands go to his belt, and the movement snaps me back to reality.

“Um, I’ll just…I’ll give you some privacy,” I stammer, then go to the door. Trey puts a hand out to stop me and moves to block the door with his wide frame.

“Who’s the guy?” he asks.

“W-who?” I can barely form a thought, let alone figure out who he could be talking about.

“The nerd in the lab coat,” Trey demands. “The guy you were touching when I arrived.” He practically spits out the last few words, and I realize with a shock that his anger is jealousy.

“His name is Dr. Barnes. He’s a professor of chemistry at Columbia,” I tell him.

Trey takes several steps forward, backing me into the table on the other side of the room. “Did you like touching him?” he asks.

“N-no,” I say. “He’s just someone we interviewed for the series. I’m not interested in him.”

He leans forward, placing a hand on the table on either side of me, boxing me in. He dips his head and brushes his lips against my ear the same way he did the night we met; my stomach flips just has hard now as it did then. “Who are you interested in, Mandy?” He places a kiss on the sensitive skin below my ear and pulls back to meet my eyes.

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