Dating Dr. Dreamy - Lili Valente Page 0,17
throat.
She sucks in a breath, and my chest goes tight.
God, her skin is as soft as I remember, soft and warm, smelling of shampoo and spiced apple lotion and Lark, the most honest and mysterious and addictive scent in the world.
In the past four years, I’ve dreamt about this smell dozens of times. Now, here I am, with my lips on Lark’s bare skin and the smell of her making my head spin, and I can’t resist just one more kiss.
And another…
And another…until she makes a soft, pained sound and spins away.
“Is that how you treat all of your patients?” she asks, her voice shaking. She’s scowling, but her breath is coming faster, making me hope I’m not the only one affected by the chemistry between us.
“Only the ones I really like,” I joke, hoping to lighten the moment, but her scowl deepens.
“Oh yeah? And how many of those have there been?”
My smile slips. “I was joking, Lark. I’m sorry if I overstepped, I just—”
“No, I know there must have been someone.” She hitches her chin up, the way she does when she knows I’m not going to like what she has to say. “Probably a lot of someones. You were gone for four years, Mason. Don’t tell me you didn’t date anyone the entire time you were gone.”
“I thought we were talking about doctor-patient relationships,” I say, not wanting to talk about other women. I don’t even want to think about other women.
Lark is the one for me. End of story.
She shrugs. “Well, now we’re talking about boy-girl relationships.”
I nod, buying myself some time. Obviously she isn’t going to let this go. I was hoping to have at least one more low key date before we started talking heavy stuff, but if she wants answers then I’m prepared to give them to her.
“Okay,” I say, propping my hands low on my hips. “I’ll talk about boy-girl relationships and anything else you want to talk about. Get your swim suit on and we’ll talk while we catch some fish for supper.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I told you, I’m too sick to—”
“You’re not sick.”
Her eyes narrow. “You don’t know that.”
“I know you don’t have a fever, and you haven’t had to use that tissue a single time since your first dramatic nose wipe.”
“Dramatic—” Lark’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you calling me a liar?”
I lift my hands in the universal sign of surrender. “I’m not calling you anything. I just know you’re not sick, and I really want to take you fishing.”
“No, you are calling me a liar. I’m not stupid, Mason,” she says, but she doesn’t sound nearly as outraged as the old Lark would have. The old Lark took great pride in her honesty. “If you’re going to insult me, at least have the guts to own it.”
“All right.” I step closer, bracing my hands on the door on either side of her face, trapping her within the circle of my arms. She tilts her head back, her lips parting in a way that has me dying to kiss her all over again. Instead, I whisper, “Unless I’m sorely mistaken, you’re lying about being sick in order to get out of going on a second date with me. But the real question is…why? What are you afraid of?”
She huffs. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Really?” I prod gently. “It’s okay to be afraid. I’m afraid all the time. The trick is not to let fear keep you from enjoying the good stuff.”
The skin between her brows wrinkles. “But is this the good stuff?”
I lean closer, until I can feel her breath on my lips and my entire body starts to hum. “I certainly think so. Nothing makes me happier than being with you.”
“Nothing?” she echoes in a breathy whisper.
“Nothing,” I assure her.
Her gaze flicks from my eyes to my mouth, and her tongue slips out to wet her lips, making things low in my body twist. God, how I want to taste her, to pull her so close her breasts are pressed tight to my chest and her—
“You have to go, Mason,” Lark says, her words ice water poured down the back of my shirt.
I flinch. “What?”
“You have to go. I can’t do this. I can’t…” She swallows hard and shakes her head. “I thought I could, but I just want to enjoy my vacation. And I can’t do that with you showing up every day making me feel all…” Her eyes squeeze closed. “I just can’t, okay?”
“Making