first with a soft caress of his thumb, then with moist strokes of his tongue.
He stood, his thigh hitting one corner of the booklet that overhung the table and sending it shooting a good foot toward the center of the table. He cleared his throat and raked his fingers through his hair.
“Are you all right?”
What was that accent? he wondered. Italian? Greek?
Riley patted his breast pocket with a shaky hand, and immediately wondered what the hell he was looking for. “Fine,” he said. “I’m fine. Like I said, read the book. And I’m sure Dr. Lassen will make herself available to you. She’d have been here today, but she was called to a meeting. And Sally’s out sick.”
“Yes,” Catherine replied quietly. “You said that.”
Great! As if uncalled-for rudeness weren’t enough, now he was looking downright dopey. The woman was turning him into a blubbering idiot!
“Of course, I did. I was just…” He nodded, letting the rest of the thought fade because he had no idea what the hell the rest of the thought was. He was just what? So preoccupied with this woman’s physical attributes that he’d lost track of what he had and hadn’t said? “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll point the way to the gym. I’m sure you can find it. You don’t seem directionally challenged.”
Directionally challenged? Where was his brain coming up with this crap?
“There’s a trainer wait—”
“Just a moment, please.”
Riley went silent. There was sudden authority in her voice he hadn’t heard before. He was just glad she’d said something that made him shut the hell up.
“I’ve been talking to some of the other clients,” she said. “They told me about a weight-loss aid that the clinic offers.”
“You want to lose weight?” He couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his query. It was really none of his business why she’d come to the clinic, and humiliating the clients with discourteously toned questions was a worse business practice than asking them to reschedule appointments. But…
Why on earth would she think she needed to lose weight?
Her cheeks tinged pink. “I’ve got these nagging five pounds.”
This was a prime example of why this job was going to send him round the bend. Helping to make perfect bodies even more perfect wasn’t his idea of practicing medicine.
“So buy bigger trousers.”
As soon as the words rolled off his tongue, Riley knew he’d made a terrible mistake.
But Catherine Houston didn’t tell him off as he expected. Even though she probably had every right to. However, she didn’t even seem insulted by his blunder. She remained amazingly composed.
No negative emotion tainted either her tone or her expression as she said, “Since buying bigger trousers isn’t an option for my next shopping excursion, I’d like to ask you about NoWait.” She paused, but not long enough for him to respond. “Everyone I’ve talked to just raves about the product. I’ve heard that it’s all-natural. Can you tell me about it? What’s it made of? How does it work? And how can I get my hands on a bottle?”
Riley pushed back the open facings of his lab coat and tucked his fists into his pockets. “I’m sorry to say the clinic isn’t endorsing NoWait at the moment. That could change, of course. And if it does, we’ll let you know. But—”
“Oh.” Her smile waned. “I’d heard such amazing things about it, though. I was told a dab of the oil behind the ears melts off the pounds.”
That was only one effect, unfortunately, Riley thought. The other one was a bit kinkier.
The decision to pull the oil made good sense. The change in the behavior of those who had been using NoWait was blatant. If word got out that the clinic was promoting a product that had people feeling uninhibited and spontaneously sexual, it could result in some very bad press for the clinic, and in this litigious day and age it could also mean lawsuits galore.
The silence grew awkward, and he realized she was waiting for more information. Well, she wouldn’t get it from him.
“Another way to accomplish your goal,” he said, “is by working out at our exercise facility.” Proud of his smooth transition, he continued, “The gym is on the second floor. Take the elevator at the end of the hall. You can’t miss it.”
From the look on her face, he could tell she recognized the dismissal for what it was. Her silky blond hair fell over her shoulder as she shifted to pick up the booklet from the table. She took her time sliding out of her chair, the muscles in her shapely legs tensing, long and lean.
Riley didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t help himself.
Placing her hands on the padded armrests, she raised up to her full height. She had excellent posture, he noticed, his gaze skimming along the flare of her hips, her trim waist, the lush curve of her breasts. His tongue stuck to the roof of his cottony mouth. He couldn’t swallow.
The woman was a knockout.
Her sapphire eyes flashed. “I want to thank you for the time you’ve spent with me today. You’ve been very helpful.”
She lied with the utter perfection of having been schooled in the art. If his cheek muscles hadn’t been paralyzed by her mere presence, he just might have smiled.
When she took a step toward him, the light scent of sun-warmed flowers wafted in the still air of the conference room. His gut tensed, and he could almost feel the smoky tendrils of that enticing trance plucking at him, tempting him all over again.
Time to make an exit. Riley murmured, “Have a great evening.”
The fact that it was only two in the afternoon wasn’t lost on him, but it was too late to retract his valediction, as he’d already turned on his heel and scurried from the room like a frightened rabbit.
Oregon was a lush and beautiful state. Catherine had landed in LAX and chartered a small private plane to Portland. This city had been very lucky for her cousin Max. He’d found great happiness here. Was she hoping it would be lucky for her, too?
Sighing, she lifted her face up to the sunshine. The trainer she’d met in the gym had encouraged her to work hard. Then she’d whiled away the afternoon with a good, long steam, a massage and a warm shower. She felt like a new woman as she pushed open the glass doors and exited the clinic.
She’d told her father she needed time. That hadn’t been a lie. She wished she had more than the two weeks he’d given her to get used to the idea of marrying a man she didn’t love. She’d told her father she planned to shop for her trousseau. On that point she’d stretched the truth a bit, she feared. Shopping for a wedding she wanted nothing to do with wasn’t high on her priority list.
She wasn’t quite sure what she was looking for from this trip. But for right now, she simply wanted to forget about home, forget she was royal, forget all about her impending engagement, her looming nuptials. She wanted to be just like everyone else. Was that so much to ask?
“Dr.
