Curing Doctor Vincent (The Good Doctor Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  Curing Doctor Vincent

  The Good Doctor Trilogy

  Book One

  by

  Renea Mason

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Reviews

  Acknowledgement & Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  About Renea Mason

  Other books by Renea Mason

  Secret Hungers Publishing

  Secrethungers.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are entirely fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Curing Doctor Vincent

  The Good Doctor Trilogy – Book One

  Copyright Renea Mason 2015

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form (print, electronic, audio or any other format), in part or in entirety, without the express permission of the author. This ebook is not transferrable.

  This includes uploading the book in part or in whole to Internet sites that distribute pirated materials. In these cases, perpetrators may be subject to penalties for copyright infringement and other laws intended to protect the integrity of published works. Stop book pirating by only purchasing and downloading books from major reputable retailers.

  Cover art by Alchemy Book Covers

  Editor Nancy Cassidy - The Red Pen Coach

  Beta-edits by the Mad Mason Beta-readers - Tiffany Dover, Lisa Errion, Elizabeth Robbins, Ashley Bodette, Beckey White, Sky Tillery, Crissy Sutcliffe, Amy Habel, Nicole Ulery, Robin Malone, Debbie Willis, Sharie Robinson, Libby Sinclair, and Amanda Miller.

  Reviews of Curing Doctor Vincent

  “Renea Mason has once again stripped a genre and built something completely unique and magnificent!” ~ Robin - Book Reads and Reviews

  “This book is SO MUCH MORE than an erotic romance. Of course, the sex is smokin’ hot, and kinky… but the story behind it all? THAT is what kept me reading page after page. I couldn’t put it down.” ~ Ashley - Book Junkie: Not so Anonymous

  “The Doctor will consume you, leaving you breathless, with an insatiable need for more. The story is well crafted, the mystery of the doctor is compelling, and the men are mouth-watering. Another five-star read from Ms. Mason.” ~Nicole - Books N Pearls

  “Fast paced and interestingly HOT.” ~ Beckey - In the Pages of a Good Book

  “Hot and sizzling… move over Mr. Grey… Dr. Vincent is in!!… This story, while very hot and at times unconventional, is at its heart about love, healing and growth. If you enjoy any of these elements, along with a healthy dose of spicy eroticism, then this story is very much for you.” ~ Amy - My Crazy Book Addiction

  "Renea Mason has a way of taking the erotic and turning it into a spectacular story. There is plenty of hot sex in this one, but it is more about self-realization and life-changing discoveries. It is beautifully written and the Parisian backdrop only enhances the eroticism. If you like your smut with a little more substance, this book is perfect!" ~ Amanda - A Bookaholic’s Fix: Feeding the Addiction

  Acknowledgements and Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the Mad Masons—the most wonderful group of friends and supporters an author can have! It takes a book this naughty to honor a group this nice.

  As always, thank you to my wonderful family, who make it all possible.

  I’d like to thank the ladies who worked so hard to help me breathe life into Doctor Vincent and who have continually showed their support—The Mad Masons beta-readers - Tiffany Dover, Lisa Errion, Elizabeth “the fabulous” Robbins, Ashley Bodette, Beckey White, Sky Tillery, Crissy Sutcliffe, Amy Habel, Nicole “hooker” Ulery, Robin Malone, Debbie Willis, Sharie Robinson, Libby Sinclair and Amanda Miller. This story wouldn’t be the same without them!

  Chapter One

  Guest

  “This change will make a huge difference to physicians prescribing the medication. Are there any questions?” With a quick sigh, I placed the laser pointer on the table, crossed my arms and wiped the sweat from my palms. It should have been an easy presentation, not unlike the hundreds I had given before, but this one was different.

  Seated less than three feet away, in his expensive, dark gray suit, black tie and silver cufflinks, sat Dr. Xavier Vincent—company icon and legend. It’s not every day the man who developed the cure for your sister’s cancer shows up unannounced. His unshakable stare caused butterflies to stir in my stomach.

  “I have a question.” The doctor sat forward, raising his hand.

  I swallowed hard. “Yes, Dr. Vincent?” And to think, I had thought of patting myself on the back for holding it together. He wasn’t supposed to be in the meeting. He really should have abstained from asking questions.

  “How long did it take you to compile this research?” I couldn’t read his expression, but that didn’t undermine the intensity of it.

  “About six months, Sir.” I rolled the seam of my jacket between my fingers. So many things ran through my mind. I should have worn that dress I pulled from the hotel closet earlier that morning and discarded, instead of a drab brown blazer and pants. I should have gotten that stylish haircut and highlights last week, instead of sticking my auburn mane in a messy up-do. I shouldn’t have eaten that cheesecake on Tuesday. Had I only known he’d be here, I would have changed everything.

  “Are you happy with your job?” He folded his arms on the table and sat up straight.

  It was an unfair question, especially given the audience. I wasn’t happy with my job, but refused to disrespect him with a lie. “It’s important work that needs to be done.”

  He reached for his aluminum tumbler, took a drink, and licked the water from his lips. “That’s not what I asked.”

  Distracted by the sweeping of his tongue over his full lower lip, I forgot to engage the filter on my mouth. “I…I’m sorry. I find fulfillment in my work, Doctor. That’s the best any of us can ask, isn’t it really? I think true contentment impedes progress. Shouldn’t we all strive for something more? Happiness leads to complacency. So no, my job doesn’t make me happy, but as I said, it is important work.”

  Several gasps echoed through the room. The doctor raised an eyebrow, paused, and then stood. “Well…thank you for your honesty, Elaine. If no one else has anything more for her, we can call it day. It was great to meet everyone and you are all invited to dinner at the Cornerstone Bistro at six-thirty. I hope to see you there.”

  Shit. How could I be so stupid? My mouth got me into this mess. Some say the truth is best unspoken, but not for me. My convictions left me incapable of lying.

  I started the shutdown process on my computer and opened my bag to tuck away my notebook. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

  The room was a flurry of activity as everyone vied for the doctor’s attention. I couldn’t blame them; the man was intriguing. Dark hair, laced with only trace strands of gray, betrayed his youth. In magazines, his young age and good looks always contrasted his accomplishments, securing him celebrity status among his peers. I remember seeing him on the cover of Forbes Magazine - Fabulous under Forty edition. He couldn’t be that much older than me. In reality, the sharp angles of his face, and the light dusting of silver, gave him an air of sophistication beyond his years. It seemed unfair for a man with his beauty to also be gift
ed with such intelligence. Nature should be careful to balance such things. I had never thought of him in those terms before, but he was handsome beyond compare—untouchable, god-like even. And I’d just told him I hated my job.

  It only took a moment to remind myself that this was a medical conference, not a singles bar. Besides, he wasn’t even on the market, the ring on his finger spoke of his commitments. But God…he was gorgeous. And every time he folded his large hands during the meeting, I had to will myself not to shiver. He had such long fingers. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “Elaine?”

  I looked up from my bag and the notebook slipped from my fingers. His steel blue eyes and strong jaw line made him look like a model, not a man capable of curing cancer. I needed to focus on something else, like a list of companies to submit my resume to. I cleared my throat. “Yes…Doctor.”

  “You are coming to dinner.”

  “I hadn’t planned on it. I’m not part of the team. Just a guest speaker.” I bent to collect the notebook from the floor, but he beat me to it. Our uncoordinated approaches caused me to smack my head into his.

  “Ouch… Oh, I am so sorry. Are you okay?” I rubbed the sore spot on my head.

  He laughed. “I’m fine.” He handed me the notebook.

  Laughter was good. At least I hoped. I reached for the book, recognizing for the first time just how tall he was. I halted for a moment at the intoxicating scent of his cologne. He smelled like spiced-chocolate. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m not usually this nervous.” But if I had to venture a guess, it was the combination of being ill-prepared for his surprise attendance and my increasingly horny single status.

  “I know.”

  I stopped fidgeting with my items and fixed him with a perplexing stare. “I’m sorry?” Great, now I was even more unsettled.

  “I saw you at the convention in Kansas City last year. You were quite confident.”

  Shit. Of all the things he could have witnessed. Kansas City wasn’t my finest moment.

  “Look, that convention…it was…I mean—”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation.” He reached over and closed the lid on my laptop and handed it to me.

  “Thank you, but I don’t want to hold you up from dinner.” And I didn’t want to rehash Kansas City, so I jumped on his easy out. The disappointment of presenting marketing data at conferences, rather than representing the company as their spokesperson, was reminder enough.

  “It wasn’t a question. You are coming to dinner.”

  I pulled the zipper closed on my bag and then brushed the hair from my eyes, to be sure that I wasn’t dreaming. “OK. Where is it? I’ll meet you there.” I wasn’t accustomed to feeling so inadequate, or discombobulated. He set me on edge. My skin tingled with sexual attraction and I wanted to throw myself at his feet for saving my sister. Dr. Vincent was making one fine mess of me.

  He crossed his arms and his eyes narrowed. “Where are you staying?”

  “At the Marriot.”

  “Perfect. I’ll meet you in the lobby at six. Is that enough time?”

  “Ahhh…yes…but…”

  “Good.” He turned and walked to the doorway. “Oh and Elaine…I don’t like being stood up.” With that he walked away.

  ****

  The lobby was crowded at dinnertime. The bustle of patrons strolling through the common area with luggage made it hard to navigate. When I turned the corner, I ran into the good doctor’s chest.

  He maintained his balance and clutched my upper arms, stopping me before I had the chance to topple him. “There you are.”

  I knew in that moment this was not a good idea. My thoughts regarding him were anything but professional. Even the slightest contact with him set me on fire.

  “Elaine, are you okay?” He leaned down and stared into my eyes.

  I smiled at him. “Yes. I’m fine. Just a bit distracted.”

  “By?”

  I wouldn’t lie to him, but there was no way I was giving him the detailed truth. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  He returned my smile. “Well…let’s go get you a drink. The restaurant is only a few blocks away.” He motioned toward the exit.

  Through the revolving door and down the uneven slate sidewalk, we walked side by side. I tucked my hands into the pockets of my wool coat. Chicago was chilly this time of year and the wind caused me to shiver.

  “So when did you start working for Western?” He stopped in front of a building that resembled a tavern, but with a French flair. The amber lighting from inside spilled through the windows, turning the walk a golden hue. He opened the door and motioned for me to enter.

  Voices, cheering and laughing, engulfed me, and I turned my head to respond to him over my shoulder. “Right out of college. So it’s been a few years.”

  The feel of his wide-spread hand on the small of my back, chased away the bite of the Chicago night.

  He approached the host podium and a man with gray hair and a black apron said, “You with Western?”

  The doctor, with his hand still on my back, answered the older man, “Yes.”

  The man scratched out something on a notepad and said, “Right this way.”

  At the table sat several of the meeting attendees. I didn’t know anyone since I was only in town to present my research findings and was then headed back to New York. The doctor returned the many greetings he got from the team members with a quick wave.

  I stopped breathing when his fingers brushed my neck. He hooked them around the collar of my coat and coaxed it down my shoulders. The doctor took two good strides in front of me and pulled out a chair. “Please, have a seat.”

  I did as he requested and he pushed in the chair for me. I willed myself to stop trying to find more in his actions than a sophisticated man being polite.

  I took a deep breath and let out a long sigh as he disappeared with our coats. When he took a seat beside me, I wasn’t sure if I’d survive the rest of the evening. He smelled so good. I knew it had to be my imagination, but I swore I could feel heat radiating from him. God…I needed to get laid.

  The waiter, a man in his early twenties with red hair and a bright smile, approached the table. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  The doctor’s shoulder rubbed against mine and then his hot breath brushed my ear. “What would you like to drink?”

  Alcohol was not a good idea. The doctor wouldn’t take kindly to being accosted by a horny, drunken co-worker and his wife would be even less happy.

  I faced him and with one look into his eyes, I knew there could be no alcoholic drinks. “I’ll have a water.”

  He raised an eyebrow and turned back to the waiter. “Two glasses of your best pinot noir.”

  It was my turn to give an incredulous glance.

  Without hesitation, he responded, “Ms. Watkins, you have nearly given me a concussion, run me over in the lobby, and you have been distracted since our time in the conference room. Water is not what you need.”

  “Since when do doctors advise the use of alcohol?”

  He leaned in closer. “When he thinks that the patient needs to forget her worries.”

  I huffed. “And I suppose arguing my point would get me nowhere.”

  “Are you allergic to alcohol?”

  “No.”

  “On any medications that are contraindicated with alcohol use?”

  “No.”

  “Then yes, you are quite correct. There is no use arguing.”

  The waiter returned with two glasses and a bottle. He poured a small amount of wine in one glass and presented it to the doctor. Dr. Vincent took a sip and nodded to the waiter, who then topped his glass and poured a second one, placing it in front of me before leaving.

  The doctor lifted his glass and said, “To new and wonderful experiences.”

  I lifted my glass and it clinked as it touched the side of his. He raised his glass and stood. Over the sound of the big-screen TVs in every corner blarin
g the news broadcasts, various sports and music videos, the doctor made a toast. The twenty plus executives, salespeople and clinicians seated at the table, gave the doctor their full attention. “Thank you all for coming out tonight. But mostly, thanks to all of you who’ve worked so hard to get Lyenstat into the hands of the patients who so desperately needed it this past year. Even though I wanted to come here personally to thank all of you, my gratitude pales in comparison to the thanks that comes from the thousands of brain cancer patients who now have a second chance. Everyone raise your glass…” He paused and waited until all hands were outstretched. “To health, happiness and all you truly desire.” He lifted the glass to his lips and took a drink.

  The clanging of glasses and chatter of joyful tidings surrounded the table. The doctor sat beside me.

  “What do you desire, Elaine?”

  I choked and started to cough.

  He placed his hand on my back. “You OK?”

  My shock turned to a laugh. “Yes, I’m fine.” I took another drink to wash down the one that had stuck in my throat, sat the wine on the table and turned to him. “I desire…” God, I needed to be careful. “…To tell you how much I appreciate you.”

  His eyes grew wide and he rested his hand on my leg. Just a friendly gesture. Stop reading more into it.

  “What exactly do you appreciate?” There was a teasing tone to his voice.

  I smiled to myself, thinking of all the possible answers, but settled on, “That you saved my sister. She almost died of that horrid disease. But you…you finished the cure just in time. She was one of the first patients to take the drug. I can’t thank you enough.”

  He clutched my hand in his. “Oh, Elaine, I don’t know what to say, but I’m so thankful she’s going to be OK. So thankful we got it to her in time.” He looked away.

  He still held my hand, but there was an obvious discomfort with my words.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”