Dr. Hot Stuff - Tawna Fenske Page 0,25
the internal organ of her choice. “Of course,” I say. “Everything’s all right, I hope?”
“Definitely.” She grins and turns in to the parking lot. “Just restocking the carnal caplets.”
“Carnal caplets?” I’m unfamiliar with the phrase.
“Tubesteak tablets. Pleasure pellets.” Lily laughs and eases the car into a parking spot. “Birth control pills.” She flips her red hair out of her eyes and turns off the car. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Want me to leave the keys and keep the heater running?”
“Actually, I’d love to spread my legs.”
Lily cocks her head. “No judgment here, but—”
“Stretch my legs.” Good Lord, I can’t believe I just said that. “Exercise. That’s what I’m wanting.”
Her smile morphs into something much more mischievous as she flicks a glance at the sign on the front of the building. “I see. And your desire to get out of the car, coupled with sudden sexual thoughts, wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Dr. Parker’s office is right next door?”
My cheeks grow hot as I catch sight of the giant letters etched on the sign. Dr. Bradley Parker, MD.
“Coincidence,” I offer weakly.
“Whatever you say.” Still grinning, Lily gets out of the car. “Take your time. I’ll wait.”
I watch her red hair swing as she strides into the gynecology clinic next door. A pang of envy rattles through me as I admire the sway of her hips. What would it be like to own my sexuality so completely? I might hate Lily if I didn’t adore her so much.
I’m so caught up admiring my sister-in-law that I almost forget how much she ought to hate me. I haven’t been honest with her, or with anyone in the Bracelyn family. Not knowing why Dante’s here has me on edge. What if he slips and reveals everything? All of it, the whole mess of my life.
Perhaps that’s the plan. A silent threat that if I don’t act soon, someone else will do it for me. They’ll make sure my lovely new temporary life implodes in a blaze of heartache and hurt feelings.
I take a deep breath and glance at the door of Bradley’s medical clinic. With everything going on, it would be silly to walk inside. He’s probably not even here, or if he is, he’s with a patient.
Scraps of this morning’s conversation with my mother flutter through the back of my brain.
“I do hope you’re making plans to return home post haste, Isabella.” She sounded distracted, and I pictured her standing before a full-length mirror as a courtier fixed her hair. “The court is growing impatient.”
I sighed, then worried I sounded like a petulant child. “I don’t understand the rush. By the way, why did you send Dante to—”
“You don’t understand the rush?” Her voice went shrill, suddenly laser-focused on our conversation. “Isabella, you know precisely how crucial this is. If word gets out we have a runaway member of the royal family, there’s no telling what sort of political upheaval we’d have on our hands. Your responsibility—”
“I know, Mother. I know.” I shut my eyes, not needing further reminders of my responsibility.
I live with it sitting squarely on my shoulders each day, heavy as a pot-bellied pig allowed to eat whatever he wants because he requires sustenance to grow big and strong and—okay, I’m thinking about Bradley again.
No, I’m thinking about Kevin the pig. I really should pop in and ask Bradley if the foster program requires any additional paperwork. I’m not hopeful I’ll be chosen as a secondary foster. It’s a long shot, considering how little time I likely have left here. But Kathryn did say short-term, and shouldn’t I at least check?
I know I’m kidding myself, but that doesn’t stop me from exiting the vehicle and striding toward the clinic doors. It’s not the same confident, sex-positive stride I admired in Lily, but years of posture lessons taught me the importance of elegant comportment.
As I reach the door, my hands are sweating. Not very elegant, but I pull open the door anyway. The moment I find myself standing at the front desk, I realize my mistake.
“Hi there.” The friendly receptionist gives me a curious smile. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Oh. Um, no.” Good Lord, what was I thinking coming in here like this? “I’m a friend of Bradley’s. Doctor Bradley, I mean. Dr. Parker.”
The woman’s face lights up. “Oh! You must be Isabella. He’s spoken highly of you. Just a moment, he’s about to take lunch.”
I open my mouth to ask how on earth she