The MD's Mistress / The Money Man's Seduction: The MD's Mistress. Leslie LaFoy

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rushed on. “Dr. Carter wants to see me…would it be all right with you if I went out for the night?”

      Becca was already nodding her head, a smile shadowing her lips, certain Sue’s sudden attack of nerves could be attributed to John’s invitation…for the night, perhaps? The shadow materialized into a real smile at the thought. She had guessed Sue and John were interested in each other, and both were tiptoeing around making a bold move.

      “Of course, I don’t mind. I’m tired, Sue, not half-dead. I’ll be fine.”

      “Oh, thanks, sweetie.” Sue actually beamed. “I’ll just get my purse and—”

      “Sue, wait a moment, please,” Seth said, interrupting her. “Before you leave, can you direct me to the closest motel or rooming house?”

      “Rooming house!” Sue exclaimed. “Motel? I’ll do no such thing.” She swept the area with one arm. “Here’s this big house, and you’re thinking rooming house? Becca has the master suite down here, but there are four empty bedrooms upstairs.” She paused to breathe.

      Becca jumped in. “Uh, Sue, I don’t think—”

      “Now don’t tell me the owner will mind, honey,” Sue interrupted. “What that rich man doesn’t know won’t be hurting anyone.”

      She glanced at Seth, who, to Becca’s way of thinking, appeared much too innocent-looking. “Now, before I leave, you go right out and get your gear from the car, then I’ll show you the place and you can take your pick of the rooms…all with their own bathroom, I might add.”

      “Well…if you insist.”

      Becca gritted her teeth at the humble note in his voice.

      “I do.” Sue gave a definite nod of her head. “No, we do. Don’t we, Becca?”

      No! Becca kept her lips tightly closed to contain the word of denial from bursting out of her mouth. “Yes,” she agreed, not too graciously. “We do.”

      Seth smiled.

      Had Becca been closer to him she might have smacked that victorious smile from his face. Wanting only to put some distance between them before she did something rash like face-smacking, she said, “Why don’t you get your bags so Sue can be on her way?”

      He nodded, smile still in place. “Right.” Moving smartly, he headed for the door.

      Becca heaved a soft sigh of relief. Still, Sue heard it. “You’re still tired. Why don’t you lie down for a bit? The sandwiches and salad will keep.”

      “I’m fine, honestly.” This time Becca’s smile was genuine. “I promise if I start to feel any worse, I’ll rest.”

      Sue smiled back. “Okay, and it might help if you’d eat a little something.”

      “That sounds good to me,” Seth chimed in, strolling into the kitchen, suitcase in hand. “I haven’t eaten since early this morning.”

      Hanging on to her fraying composure, Becca rose from the table, carrying the still full coffee cup. “Okay, you get settled in and I’ll serve lunch.”

      “Good,” Sue said, heading for the archway into the dining room. “Follow me, Seth. I’m sure Mr. Moneybags won’t mind how long you stay.”

      Oh, hell…hell…hell! Becca railed to herself. Just stay as long as you like, Seth. Have yourself a great time driving Becca to distraction.

      Fuming, she dumped the now cold, bitter coffee into the sink and fixed a fresh pot. While the coffee brewed, she set about slapping place mats and napkins on the table, followed by plates for the sandwiches and small wooden bowls for the salads. She was setting the large bowl of mixed vegetable salad onto the table when Sue hurried back into the room.

      “Seth will be down in a minute,” she said, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. “I’ll be leaving now…okay?”

      “Yes, of course—go, Sue.” Becca made a shooing motion with her hand, managing a smile for her. “I’ll be fine. Dr. Carter is waiting.”

      “Right.” Excitement glimmered in Sue’s eyes. “Uh…I don’t know when I’ll be…”

      “Don’t worry about it,” Seth drawled, sauntering into the room. “I assure you, I’ll take good care of her.”

      Sue grinned, and rushed out of the house.

      Becca was simmering. Who in the world assigned Seth Andrews, boy-wonder surgeon, to take care of her? She was fully capable of taking care of herself, thank you.

      Carefully setting the sandwiches on the plates, she tried to calm her rising ire, afraid if she didn’t she might explode all over the place, or him.

      “Do you want a glass of water?” Becca avoided looking at him by turning to go to the cabinet where the glasses were kept.

      “Yes, please.” There was a trace of hidden laughter in his tone.

      “Why are you here anyway?”

      “Why else—to check on you.”

      The simmer was quickly turning into flaring temper. “Have a seat,” she said with false calm. Back in Philadelphia, she thought, rather nastily.

      Lunch was hardly a pleasant chatty occasion. In fact it was eaten in absolute silence.

      Out of pure contrariness, not thirst, Becca drank two cups of the fresh coffee, while simply nibbling at both her salad and sandwich.

      Naturally, Seth serenely ignored her while eating every bit of his lunch…not to mention the half of sandwich she left on her plate.

      To Becca’s further annoyance, he monitored every swallow of coffee she took.

      “You know,” he said, too casually, “instead of gulping caffeine, you should be resting.”

      Skirting the edge of serious anger, Becca glanced at him balefully. “Is that a professional or merely personal opinion, Dr. Andrews?”

      He appeared unfazed by both her expression and sour tone of voice. “Both.”

      “Well, you can take both opinions and jam—”

      “Careful now, Rebecca,” he cautioned. “Let’s not get down and dirty here.”

      Throwing her hands into the air, rather than her fist at his head, Becca shoved back her chair, stood and began clearing the table. “I don’t want to listen to you issuing orders or suggestions.” Carrying the dishes, she stopped halfway between the table and the sink to turn and face him. “You are not my boss here.”

      “I am not trying to boss you around.” Seth shoved his chair back and circled the table to stand over her. Anger was beginning to color his voice. “Can’t you see I’m trying to help you?”

      “No.” She gave a sharp shake of her head. “All I see is a man trying to tell

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