Read Online The Procedure by Tabatha Vargo, Melissa Andrea - Free Book Online Page B

discussed the spa, she answered my question.
    “Very much so. I had no idea how badly I needed to relax. Thank you.”
    My grin matched hers. I felt stupid when I realized how big my smile was. “You’re very welcome.”
    If I had thought she was beautiful before, she was exquisite with a smile on her face. Her eyes sparkled when she looked at me and, briefly, I lost my next breath.
    I turned away and took my seat. “So, shall we move on to step three?” I asked.
    Again, she giggled. “Wait. There are steps now?” She ran her hands through her long waves like she knew it was getting my attention. It was then that I noticed her nails were painted a soft pink. Quickly, a flash of her pink-painted fingertips on my skin rushed through my mind before I shook it away. “What is this—Project Samantha?” she asked.
    A beautiful name for a stunning woman. I’d relished in the fact that we were on a first-name basis. It made doing something so personal with her less stressful. Getting beneath someone’s skin and finding out what makes them tick was very personal.
    “No. This is definitely not Project Samantha.” I couldn’t keep the smile out of my words. “Let’s just say this is a different kind of procedure. One that might be better than anything I can do with my scalpel.”
    “Okay then. Let’s proceed with the procedure ,” she mocked.
    I liked this side of her—a playful side—one that didn’t look like she was seconds away from bawling her eyes out. I was seeing a different person already, and we’d only just begun. By the time I was done with her, Michael Aldridge would be eating out of her hand.
    “Alright then. Let’s get out of here. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
    Confusion filled her eyes, but she grabbed her purse and followed behind me as I moved to leave. Opening the door, I stepped to the side to let her go before me. The man in me looked down and watched her walk down the hall in front of me before the professional kicked in, and I forced myself to look away.
    The heat of Miami burned the side of my face when we exited the building. Squinting against the sun, I slid on my shades and pressed the unlock button on my keys. The lights flickered and a tiny beep sounded from my car, which I kept parked on the side of the building.
    “Yours?” she asked.
    “Mine,” I said, opening the passenger’s door for her.
    She smiled at me as if something as innocent as opening a car door for her had never happened. Again, hate for Michael Aldridge reared its ugly head.
    Once I got comfortable in the driver’s seat and cranked up the car, she latched her seat belt and turned to face me. Excitement filled her eyes, making her look younger than her thirty years. She was practically bouncing in her seat.
    “Where are we going?” she asked.
    Amused, I put the car in drive and pulled away from the parking space. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
    On the ride, she moved around anxiously in the passenger’s seat, pouting because I refused to tell her where we were going.
    She looked over at me, confused when we pulled up to St. Vincent’s Medical, the children’s hospital I spent a good bit of my time at.
    “No questions. Just go with it,” I reminded her.
    She grinned over at me and nodded her understanding. I could see the light of exhilaration in her eyes, and I was happy that I’d put it there.
    Parking in my spot, I put my car in neutral and pulled up the parking brake.
    “I never learned how to drive a stick shift,” she said as she watched me park the car.
    “Maybe that’s something you could add to your bucket list,” I said.
    She smiled. “I never thought to make a bucket list.” Turning to peek at me, she asked, “Do you have one?”
    “Yes. You should start one.”
    “Maybe I will,” she said before climbing from my car and shutting the door behind her.
    The smell of her soft perfume wafted through and I breathed it in deeply before climbing from my car, as