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Wasn’t he?
He couldn’t shake the idea. The nameAmy Danielshad been at the forefront of his mind since he’d found it on the internet. He had never seen a picture of Dr. Daniels, but she was the right age.
But it couldn’t be her.
Could it?
She had noticed something was wrong. She was fumbling for her shirt, trying to cover herself up, and he spared a moment to mourn the loss of such a luscious view. But then there was the fact that she was messing up the buttons, doing the shirt up unevenly, and there was something incredibly sexy about that.
God, he wanted to just forget he had heard her name. He wanted to just go ahead with what had been about to happen. He hadn’t been able to lose himself in anything since his diagnosis. He hadn’t had so much as a moment of feeling like his body wasn’t failing him. But tonight, with a beautiful woman in his bed, he felt almost back to normal. It would be possible, with her, to just be Adriano for a little while, instead of being Adriano with Barks-Howard’s disease. For a little while, he could stop focusing on the fact that he was dying and just let himself live.
He wanted to.
But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t ignore the fact that she wasn’t just some hot woman he’d met at the bar. She might be the doctor who was going to save his life, and that made it entirely impossible to forget about his diagnosis.
He had to know.
He stepped back and looked at her—dark brown hair spilling around her shoulders, bright green eyes that made him want to stare at her for hours, absolutely perfect breasts barely covered by the badly buttoned shirt.
He closed his eyed. He had to look away to keep himself from acting like a crazy person. God, he wanted her bad.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re not Amy Daniels, are you?”
“I… Yes,” she said, frowning. “How did you know that?”
He should tell her, he thought. He ought to let her know who he was. It was the decent thing to do.
But she hadn’taskedhim who she was.
If she asked him, he would say. He wouldn’t lie. But if she didn’t ask…maybe she didn’t feel like she needed to know.
He wouldn’t try to make that decision for her. It was her business.
“I’ve read your work,” he said simply. Let her make what she would of that. If she figured out who he was, he would be honest, but if not—
“Do you work in the medical field?” she asked, frowning.
“In an adjacent field.”
“I thought you said you were in business.”
“My business deals with medicine.” It was true, if you squinted at it. He was in the business of fitness techology, and fitness was definitely about health.
She nodded. “I see. It’s not that often I meet someone who has heard of me. And I suppose you saw my profile picture online?”
“I think so.” That would explain how, out of all the Amys in the world, he’d known who she was.
She nodded again, clearly ready to accept that. “You have me at a disadvantage, then.”
And still, she wasn’t asking.
He moved in close to her and cupped the back of her neck again, tilting her head so she was forced to look him in the eye. “How do you feel about that?”
He felt a shiver pass through her body and was insanely aroused by the fact that he had been the cause of it. Finally, after all these months, his body was doing what he expected of it. Finally, he didn’t feel broken or defective.
This is the best treatment you could hope to give me, doctor. Already he felt like he was coming back to life.
“I like it,” she breathed. “This is hot.”
