Holding Out for Doctor Perfect

“So says the hospital controller,” her friend Ryleigh pointed out.

“That’s my job title, not personality.” She got mad every time she thought about the pressure Spencer Stone had put on her. “What part of no doesn’t he understand?”

“Now’s not the time—”

“Yeah, it is.” Avery was warming to her subject. Even her friend’s weird eye-rolling and nodding her head toward the doorway didn’t penetrate the tirade. “I swear, if I ever meet a nice doctor, I’d have sex with him at that moment—”

“Avery—” Ryleigh was dragging her hand across her throat, the universal cut-off sign.

She felt her stomach drop and heat spread through her. “He’s behind me, isn’t he?”

About the Author

TERESA SOUTHWICK lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Mills & Boon.

Holding Out

for Doctor

Perfect

Teresa Southwick

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Neel V. Dhudshia, MD, the right doctor in the right place at the right time. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving it one more try.

Chapter One

Avery O’Neill had guilty secrets, but her attitude toward a certain cardiothoracic surgeon wasn’t one of them.

She stopped pacing long enough to look at Ryleigh Evans, her best friend. “It’s bad enough that I have to put up with Spencer Stone at your wedding. Far be it from me to question your future husband’s taste in a best man. But I just found out I have to go to Dallas with him.”

This was Ryleigh’s office and she was behind the desk, watching Avery walk back and forth to work off her frustration. Her brown eyes sparkled with more than bridal happiness. She was also rocking a pregnancy glow with a baby due in four months. She was a beautiful brunette and happiness made her more beautiful than ever.

“Why do you have to go with him?” she asked.

“For months I’ve been telling Stone that the surgical robotic system he’s lusting after—just like he lusts after every attractive single female employee at Mercy Medical Center is not in the budget. He went over my head to my boss, who pointed out that Doctor Heartthrob brings patients, publicity and revenue to Mercy Medical Center. In short, he’s the golden boy and we need to keep him happy.”

“And just how are you going to do that?” Her friend Ryleigh’s tone dripped with double entendre.

“Don’t go there.”

Avery certainly wasn’t planning to. Spencer Stone was only interested in casual sex—and that didn’t interest her. She knew his type—big man on campus. The guy that girls couldn’t say no to. In high school she’d learned the hard way that there were consequences for not saying no and sleeping with that guy. Hers were an unplanned pregnancy and a newborn daughter she’d had to give up for adoption.

Her gaze dropped to her friend’s baby bump and the way she absently and protectively rubbed her hand over the swell of the growing child. A familiar envy, longing and sadness rolled through her. Avery covered it the way she always did, by being prickly. Ryleigh teased that it was one of her best qualities, but she’d never confided her guilty secret, not even to her best friend.

“I have to go with Stone to talk to the financial people and find out if this Star Wars technology is fiscally feasible.”

“And what will he be doing while you’re playing with numbers?”

“He’ll be playing with the really expensive Star Wars technology.”

Ryleigh nodded sagely. “Well, I can see their point. Hospital administration doesn’t want him to contract his considerable skills to another facility. But he’s officially really good at fixing hearts.”

“Good thing because he breaks so many. He’s a pain in the butt.”

Ryleigh slid her a look of exaggerated patience. “You’ll get to know him better at the wedding. I promise not to say I told you so when you find out you’re wrong about Spencer. If he were as bad as you think, Nick wouldn’t like him or ask him to be his wingman for vow-taking.”

The day after tomorrow her best friend was remarrying Dr. Nick Damian, the love of her life and father of her unborn child. Avery was the maid of honor, which meant she’d have to play nice. But that was two days away and now, she was annoyed. “Stone’s a jerk.”

“Not true. He’s a really nice guy.”

“Right.” Avery folded her arms over her chest and faced the desk with her back to the open office door. “I’ve yet to meet a surgeon who isn’t full of himself, a total control freak.”

“So says the hospital controller,” Ryleigh pointed out.

“Job title not personality.” She got mad every time she thought about the pressure Spencer Stone had put on her. He buried her in emails with a subject line of 9-1-1, or stat, or Code Red. When that didn’t work he tracked her down in the hospital wherever she happened to be, although so far he hadn’t breached the sanctity of the ladies’ room. “What part of no doesn’t he understand?”

“Now’s not the time—”

“Yeah, it is.” Avery was warming to her subject. Even her friend’s weird eye-rolling and nodding her head toward the doorway didn’t penetrate the tirade. “I swear if I ever meet a nice doctor, I’d have sex with him at that moment—”

“Avery—” Ryleigh was dragging her hand across her throat, the universal cutoff sign.

She felt her stomach drop and heat spread through her. “He’s behind me, isn’t he?”

“I understand we’re traveling together. Hello, Avery.” Heart-of-Stone himself walked up beside her. His grin was wicked. The expression on his face was full of the devil. “And since I’m a really nice surgeon and dressed appropriately, it looks like we’ll be having sex, too.”

“Don’t be mean, Spencer,” Ryleigh scolded. “I defended you. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make a liar out of me.”

Avery didn’t know what to say. She’d just insulted the brilliant doctor that hospital administration was jumping through hoops to keep happy. They were traveling together because he wanted a robot and she had to crunch the numbers to make it happen. If Stone said take a flying leap, her boss would ask how high and how many times. If Stone said fire Avery O’Neill, they would have her severance ready faster than you could say “may the force be with you.”

She looked at her friend because she couldn’t look at him. “You need to give me a bigger shut-the-heck-up motion next time.”

“Next time?” Spencer rested a hip on the corner of Ryleigh’s desk. His piercing green eyes snapped with intelligence. Dark blond hair was cut military short and suited his square-jawed face. It just wasn’t fair that he made the green scrubs he wore hot as a sexy kiss under a full moon. “You have plans to trash talk me again, Tinker Bell?”

She winced, but didn’t say anything. He called her that because she was five feet tall, barely weighed a hundred pounds and her blond hair was cut in a short pixie style. Ryleigh had said the look suited her but the nickname didn’t do a whole lot for her professional image.

“Was there something you wanted, Spencer?” Ryleigh asked. She reached into a desk drawer and pulled out her purse before standing.

“Just wanted to double check on the wedding rehearsal time,” he said.

“Tomorrow. Six-thirty at the house. We’re taking the wedding party to dinner after.”

“Who’s in the wedding party again?” he asked, the sinful sparkle in his eyes aimed directly at Avery.

“Oh, please, Spencer. You have a mind like a steel trap and never forget anything. You know it’s just you and Avery. She’s my best friend and maid of honor. Don’t pick on her.”

They were the only attendants for the small intimate wedding and the next two days were going to be like a never ending double date. Karma was having a good laugh at her expense.

“Okay.” He nodded to Ryleigh. “And you’re feeling okay?”

“Great.” She smiled and rubbed a hand over her belly. “Morning sickness is gone. Although why they call debilitating nausea that lasts twenty-four hours a day ‘morning’ is beyond me. But currently all is well.”

“Good.”

“Okay, you two, I have to go meet Nick. But feel free to use my office for restoring diplomatic relations.”

“You don’t want to play referee?” Spencer asked.

“Not even a little. Be excellent to each other,” she added sternly on her way out the door.

When she left Avery and Spencer eyed each other. His expression was challenging but he didn’t say anything. The silence was making her nervous and she needed to fill it. Partly because there would be no massive wedding party to buffer them during the rehearsal festivities and ceremony. And partly because she also had to work with him. And travel with him, which was worse than working with him.

“About the jerk comment …” She took a deep breath and met his gaze without flinching. “I was simply stating an opinion. I’m sorry if it hurt your feelings.”

“You don’t look sorry,” he said.

That’s because she was only sorry he’d overheard. “It’s all on the inside.”

“Unlike your stated viewpoint, which you put right out there. One that didn’t allow for the fact that I have any feelings.”

From where she was standing, he didn’t. “Do you?”

“Of course.”

The teasing tone and gleam in his eyes didn’t convince her but the combination made her pulse pick up more than she liked or even wanted to acknowledge. He was too handsome, too sexy, too confident, too smooth. Too much of everything that left her too little peace of mind. Filling the silence had only made her nerves more nervous.

Now what?

“So, it’s good we talked.” Avery slid her hands into the pockets of her black slacks. “I should be going now.”

“It’s quitting time, right? Is there somewhere you have to be? Do you have plans?”

“No.”

“We should go get a drink,” he said.

No, they shouldn’t. “Why would you want to do that?”

The words just popped out of her mouth. She didn’t mean to be rude, but definitely could have been more tactful.

Surprisingly he laughed. “It never occurred to me I needed a reason to ask a woman to go for a drink.”

“Well, you asking just came out of the blue for me. We don’t have what you’d call a going-for-drinks kind of relationship. It sort of took me by surprise.”

“So, you’re saying I do need a reason?”

She could feel the skepticism and suspicion on her face, but tried to suppress it. “Not exactly.”

“That’s okay. I can come up with more than one.”

“Such as?”

The way he folded his arms over his broad chest made his shoulders look even wider. Her mouth went dry and there was a hitch in her breathing. It was okay with her if he thought she was unreasonable and not worth the trouble, but that could put a speed bump in her career.

“If we had a drink together, we’d get to know each other better.”

“Good luck with that.” She resisted the urge to put her hand over her mouth and simply mumbled, “Sorry.”

He grinned. “It would ease tension and make the wedding festivities more fun and the trip to Dallas more relaxed.”

On what planet? “Look, Dr. Stone—”

“Call me Spencer. It’ll be easier that way. Especially at the rehearsal dinner.”

Nothing about it was going to be easy. “Whatever I think about you, I’d never do anything to spoil my best friend’s wedding day. And I’m a professional businesswoman. My personal feelings, whatever they are, will not affect my ability to do my job well.”

“So, you’re opposed to getting to know me?”

“It’s not really necessary,” she hedged.

“And that’s a no to a drink?”

“Yes, that’s a no,” she said.

“Okay.” He stood and looked down at her before saying, “See you later, Tinker Bell.”

Avery stared after him for several moments. Over the years she’d spent a lot of time by herself but for some reason alone was bigger after sharing space with Spencer Stone. Probably because he’d taken up so much of her space and now it was emptier. Plus, she felt a little guilty for speaking her mind, which was weird. The guilt, not the speaking her mind.

Even though he was the same type as her first love, it wasn’t fair to cast him in the same mold as the guy who’d gotten her pregnant and then joined the army to avoid her and any responsibility for his child. She wasn’t normally a person who judged someone else based on rumors, hearsay and innuendo. But she had a weakness for guys like Spencer Stone and in her experience it didn’t end well. Avoiding him altogether was the wisest course of action.

Fixing hearts might be his medical specialty, and by all accounts he was very good at it. But he was also good at breaking them—and she wasn’t about to make hers an easy target.

It was a perfect evening for a wedding, but Spencer Stone was incredibly grateful he wasn’t the one getting married. He held beating hearts in his hands and performed life and death procedures every day without breaking a sweat but the pressure of committing to another person forever made him want to poke a sharp stick in his eye.

But if Nick was determined to go through with it at least Mother Nature had given him perfect weather. April in Las Vegas was worth tolerating summer months when the temperature was hotter than the face of the sun. In the groom’s backyard the air was somewhere in the low seventies. A sky with wisps of clouds was changing from blue to brilliant shades of orange, pink and purple as day faded to twilight. He supposed it was romantic if one was into that sort of thing.

Not his job right now. He was standing in the groom’s backyard doing his best man duties. Several years ago he and Nick had met in the doctors’ dining room at Mercy Medical Center and hit it off right away. Spencer had missed the first wedding because it had all happened so fast, but he hadn’t missed the changes in his friend when the marriage fell apart. As if Spencer hadn’t already been overthinking commitment, the negative impact on Nick from that experience really gave Spencer pause.

But now his buddy was tying the knot again with the same woman. And having a baby. It all looked perfect and Spencer envied them. He wasn’t brave enough or dumb enough to take the step unless he knew it was the absolute right thing to do. In his life mistakes, both professional and personal, weren’t allowed.

Nick stood beside him under a flower-covered arbor that had been set up and decorated for the festivities. Invited guests were talking quietly, waiting for the ceremony to start.

The bride and groom were having a small service—no tuxes, thank God, just dark, tasteful suits. Fifteen or twenty people he recognized from Mercy Medical Center sat in chairs set up on the patio beside the pool. Nick and Ryleigh had no extended family as far as he knew. Unlike himself, Spencer suspected they were blissfully unaware of how a family could complicate events like this in one’s life.

“Do you have the rings?” Nick nervously brushed a hand over his dark, wavy hair.

Spencer felt for the jeweler’s box in the pocket of his suit slacks. He faked an omigod expression when he asked, “Was I supposed to bring them?”

“Nice try, Stone. Even if you weren’t kidding, nothing could rattle me today.”

“Why?” Spencer was curious because he’d be sweating bullets if he was in Nick’s shoes.

“Because no matter what happens, regardless of any technical glitches, Ryleigh is going to be my wife. Again.”

“You’re not worried that it won’t work out?”

“Been there, done that,” Nick said, blue eyes going intense for a moment. “I screwed up letting her walk out of my life once. It won’t happen again.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be keeping me calm? Questions like that could send a nervous groom sprinting for the nearest exit.”

“That’s the thing.” Spencer shook his head in amazement. “You’re rock solid. This is a life-altering move. I’ve seen you in the E.R. working on a kid with constricted airways and struggling for the next breath and you were nothing but nerves of steel. It’s creeping me out that you’re even more cool now. This is huge, man.”

“And it’s right.”

“But how do you know?” Spencer insisted.

“I just do. When you know, you know.” Nick gave him a warning look. “Don’t ask.”

Before Spencer could ignore the warning and ask anyway, the sliding glass door into the family room opened and Reverend White, the hospital chaplain, walked outside. He was a fit man, about sixty years old with a full, thick head of gray hair. Warm brown eyes surveyed the gathering.

“Ladies and gentlemen we’re about to begin. If you’ll all please rise to greet the bride.”

As the chaplain moved up the aisle created by the two groups of separated chairs, everyone stood up. Moments later Avery walked out of the house. She was carrying a bouquet of lavender roses that matched the color of her dress. The full, swirly, sexy silky hem stopped at her knees and the high, matching pumps made her legs look a lot longer than he knew they were.

For just a second he’d have sworn his heart actually stopped. Not a comfortable feeling for a cardiotheracic surgeon, or any guy for that matter.

Then Ryleigh, holding a single white rose, appeared behind her maid of honor. In a floor-length flowing strapless gown she looked gorgeous and radiant, just as cool and collected as her groom. Spencer glanced at Nick’s face and knew his friend was going through the heart-stopping sensation. He didn’t even want to know why he knew that.

Avery stopped, took her place across from him, and for just a moment their eyes met. Probably it was just the spirit of the occasion, but for once she didn’t look like she wanted to choke him.

Speaking of necks, hers drew his full attention in a big way. More specifically the see-through lavender material that covered her arms and the expanse of chest just above her small breasts. There were no visible bra straps, which made him far too curious about the lingerie under her dress, or lack thereof. Technically the skin wasn’t bare, but for the life of him he could not understand why that was about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

Then Spencer snapped out of it when Nick moved and held his arm out to his bride. Ryleigh slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, smiling with the same serene certainty her groom had demonstrated. Behind them everyone sat down again.

The reverend opened the book in his hands, then looked out at the guests. “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

“I give myself to Nick, freely and with love.”

“I give myself to Ryleigh and our child, freely and with love.” Nick put his palm on her stomach and the intensity of the feelings behind the words was there in his eyes.

Spencer knew the personal and profound promises following this public declaration had been written by Nick and Ryleigh. But it was the look on their faces that struck him. They only had eyes for each other. Then the reverend was asking for the rings, which he handed over, after a wink to his friend.

Nick kissed his bride while the guests cheered and clapped. At this point in the festivities it was time for bride and groom, best man and maid of honor to sign the wedding license and take a few minutes for private congratulations. Spencer held out his arm to escort Avery, who almost hid her hesitation. But she put her hand in the crook of his elbow and they walked into the house.

Spencer Stone was normally attracted to tall women with legs that went on forever. Blond, blue-eyed little bits of nothing who looked out of a fairy tale—even if they didn’t act that way—were not his cup of tea. But there was something about Avery O’Neill that unsettled him, maybe because she’d told him no. But that didn’t explain why the scent of her skin slipped inside him and made his head spin like a centrifuge. At least he hid it better than Avery did her aversion to him.

After the legalities were squared away, the four of them gathered around the coffee table where two silver buckets of ice held a bottle of champagne and apple cider—in deference to the bride’s delicate condition.

She held up her flute with the nonalcoholic drink. “You two are welcome to have something stronger. Nick said if I couldn’t drink champagne he wouldn’t, either.”

He slid his arm around his new bride and pulled her close. “In the spirit of solidarity. We’re pregnant.”

Avery laughed. “You’ll be singing a different tune when her ankles swell up.”

“If I could share that, I would,” he declared, laughter in his eyes.

“Right,” Avery and Spencer said together.

He met her astonished gaze, then cleared his throat. “As best man it’s my honor to make a toast to the happy couple.”

“Please,” Ryleigh said.

“First of all, congratulations. To my friend, Nick, health and happiness.” He clinked his glass to the groom’s. “And Ryleigh. You look happier than I’ve ever seen you and more beautiful. All brides should be pregnant.”

Spencer glanced at Avery and saw a frown in her eyes for just a fraction of a second. So quick he wondered if he’d imagined it. Except he’d been on the receiving end of numerous O’Neill frowns and knew he wasn’t mistaken. She’d looked the same way during the ceremony, when Nick and Ryleigh pledged their love to each other and their child. That wasn’t a frown-worthy moment. Which made it another in a growing list of questions about the mysterious, yet intriguing Miss Avery O’Neill.

“Thank you, Spencer. That was lovely.” Ryleigh picked up the single white rose she’d held during the ceremony and handed it to her maid of honor.

Avery looked surprised as she took the flower. “You’re giving this to me?”

“Yes. It’s simple, beautiful and pure. A symbol of my love for Nick. Traditionally whoever catches the bridal bouquet will be the next to get married, but I didn’t want a bouquet.”

“Good, because I don’t want to get married.” But she held the rose to her nose and breathed in the fragrance.

“This represents nothing more than my hope that you’ll find a love as enduring and perfect as Nick’s and mine.”

“Thank you.” Avery’s voice trembled with emotion just before she leaned over and hugged her friend.

“Okay, Mrs. Damian, now it’s time to mingle with the other guests,” Nick said.

“Lead the way, Dr. Damian.”

Hand in hand the newly weds went outside. Avery started to follow and Spencer stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Wait a second.”

“Why?”

“I’d like to clear the air while we have a minute.”

“There’s no air to clear.”

“Come on,” he said. “This is me. I know you’re not very good at hiding your feelings. And I mean that as a compliment.”

“Look, Dr…. Spencer,” she said. “There’s nothing to say. After today, any personal obligations that we have in common are fulfilled.”

“But there’s still our mutual business trip,” he reminded her.

“Mutual, meaning shared. But that’s not the case with us. You’ll do your thing. I’ll do mine. Our paths may be parallel, but won’t necessarily cross. So, again, no air to clear.”

“So, you don’t want to meet my family?”

“Excuse me?”

“My parents live in Dallas. My sister and her family will be there on vacation at the same time.”