Page 3 of Saving His Heart

This has both men laughing.

“Come on in, Emory, and I’ll make proper introductions. But yes, Preston is Mr. Westbrook, and he can be a real pain in the ass,” Dr. Terry whispers as I pass him on my way into his office.

With that cleared up, my mask goes on. Gone is Emory, the enchanted woman getting choked up by a handsome man in the elevator. In her place is the no-nonsense Dr. Camden.

* * *

Preston

Grasping Emory’s elbow,I lead her out of the office. My entire body takes notice. From the tips of my ears down to my toes is a current of awareness.You cannot sleep with your doctor, asshat. But how fucking amazing would it be?

We arrive at the elevators, and she has barely said a word since Dr. Terry explained my situation. I get the feeling she is the epitome of a rule follower.

I could break a few rules with her.

“Dr. Camden, I was hoping I’d catch you,” comes the voice from earlier.

He has her attention immediately. “Fred,” turning to look at the man, her soft smile is genuine, “what are you doing out here?”

“Well, I thought since you’re not my doctor anymore, I’d try to take you out to lunch. See if this one’s worthy of you,” he says, scowling in my direction.

“You’re so sweet, but that—”

“Would be great, Fred,” I interrupt. “However, it’s my treat. I insist.” I wink at him.She is going to be fun to rile up.“It’ll be fun, won’t it, sweetheart?”

“I gotta say, Dr. Camden, I thought Donny would be a bigger loser than this. I’m glad to see he has some manners,” he tells her while continuing to give me the stink eye.

Clutching my heart, I feign shock. “What? Me? A loser? Sweetheart, what have you been telling people?”

“Mr. Wes—”

“Donny, remember?”

“This isn’t funny,” she says as her face turns red.

“Oh no, Fred. We’d better get moving. My little love muffin here gets cranky when she’s hungry. Plus, we’ve already had a minor incident in the elevator. I can’t let her stomach get all twisted up again.”

“I’m not going to lunch with you,” she seethes.

“How does The Capital Grille sound to you, Fred?”

He eyes me skeptically, “You’re paying?”

“I am,” I say, taking Emory’s hand in mine. Her little body shivers next to me.Jesus, I wonder if I could make her do that all over?

“Maybe I misjudged you, son. I love The Capital Grille.”

I swear, I hear Emory hiss, “Traitor.” And I chuckle.

She repeatedly tries to remove her hand from mine, but I hold tight. “You’ll have to forgive us, Fred. We had a rather hectic morning and haven’t settled things yet,” I tell him.

“Ah, making up is the best part of fighting now, isn’t it?”

The dirty old man has the grace to look embarrassed when Emory scoffs.

“We have nothing to make up for—”

“I do love a good steak, son. Let’s get going before Dr. Camden explodes over there.”