Breaking the Doctor, page 8
There was no reason to hide her perfect body, though he’d ask her later about the small incision she had on her thigh. He stood and didn’t care that he was naked while he headed across the room to get his sweat pants. “I can put her in private.”
He tugged them on as his pajama bottoms.
She held the white sheets as she rose from the bed. “Reza?”
“Yeah?” He hoped she’d explain why she was suddenly shy.
She walked over to him, wearing his sheets as she took his hands. “Can we go to the social security office and the DMV today?”
Huh? His gaze narrowed and he eyed her up and down. Her request didn’t make sense. “Why? That doesn’t sound fun.”
She swallowed and the pinkness of her blush was almost red. “I want to be Patti Moradi.”
The last thing he’d do was curse her with a foreign name so people treated her differently. But if he argued with her, he risked upsetting the wonderful peace they’d found. He wanted nothing more than to think things might work out and she’d stay here with him after the two years was up. He let out a breath and said, “Patti Davies Moradi.”
She shook her head like he’d just offended her and placed her hand on her hip. “I don’t need to hyphenate.”
He needed to explain. He took her hands and led her back to the bed, motioning for them both to sit. She did, but reluctantly. He held her gaze. “The women in my country keep their maiden names. It’s the American culture to change, and I don’t want you to ever feel left out of your own culture.”
Her lips pursed like she was going to argue with him, but then she nodded with understanding. “So you want me to hyphenate, for me.”
Good. Patti was reasonable. Another reason he’d like for things to work between them. “Yes. I want Sara to remain Reed even after the adoption.”
The sheet drooped and he saw her gorgeous skin with a healthy glow. He reached beside the bed and handed her the shirt she’d worn to bed, and her underwear. She slipped on the underwear while holding the fabric. “So her father’s last name was Reed?”
She lifted her body just long enough to pull up her underwear, then tugged the shirt over her head. He waited till he saw her face again and said, “My sister married a typical American guy. My mother didn’t like that he had no family, at the time.”
Patti pushed aside the sheet without explaining why she’d been so shy, then brushed her hair from her face. “Well, that should make it easy for you to get custody once the paperwork is done.”
Patti was the most clear-headed woman he’d ever taken to bed. He hugged her and nodded. “There is that. We can go get your documents later.”
She stood and offered her hand like she’d help him stand. He laughed and got to his feet. “And send them to your lawyer to help with the case.”
Ah. Now he understood why she thought it was important. He kissed her forehead. “You’re smart, Patti.”
She hugged his hips. “I’m not always.”
“You think clearly.” He pulled her closer.
She still smelled like roses though there was no way she had time to put on more perfume.
His eyes closed and his lips met hers.
She tasted sweeter than strawberries or watermelon, which had been his favorite fruit until now.
As the kiss ended, she let out a happy sigh and met his gaze. She smiled bright enough to light up the room as she patted her stomach. “Sometimes. But right now I’m hungry.”
“Fair enough.” Reza led her to the bedroom door, opening it as he said, “Let’s get breakfast for you and then we’ll have tea before we go anywhere.”
They crossed the house to the bedroom he’d given her the first night. She unzipped her bag that he hoped she might now unpack in his room, and pulled out shorts and a different set of underwear. She hid behind a table and changed. Done, she came out and said, “Tea is important to your culture.”
“Very.” They walked through the living area and headed toward the kitchen that smelled like dinner for the night was already started in the slow cooker.
He stopped at the teapot that was on the oven and poured two glasses. “I drink it more than coffee. The nanny texted the girls were playing together outside before it gets too hot.”
She sat at the already made table and put a piece of toast on her plate. “Why didn’t you tell me on our first date?”
“About what?”
“How your mom didn’t like the guy your sister married.”
“We talked about that at the hospital.”
“Right, our first date.”
Her insistence made him pause, then he put the cup in front of her and sat next to her. “Was that a date, when we went to the cafeteria?”
“Absolutely.” She patted his hand.
If that was true, he was tempted to believe that they’d made the best choice in each other. He’d do what he could to prove himself. He took her hand and held it tight. “You fascinated me and I wanted your company more than to talk about my family.”
She caressed the scruffy five o’clock shadow along his jaw as if she liked it, then sniffed the air. “Well, now I’m your wife in truth and we have time to share. Breakfast smells good.”
He took a whiff and recognized the scent. “Today’s bread has cinnamon.”
She licked her lips. “I see. Any particular reason?”
“Because it tastes good.” He winked, his heart light. Sure, he hadn’t told her everything about the spice, but taste was the underlying truth. He’d noticed that she’d enjoyed the cinnamon sprinkled on her warm milk yesterday and asked the chef to add it to their morning meal.
More laughter came through the window. She stood and smiled at him. “Let me get the kids for breakfast.”
If he went, he would have time to pray quickly. He got to his feet and shook his head. “Sit. Drink the tea. I’ll get them.”
“Sounds good.” She sat back down.
On his way to the backyard, he stopped in the small room he used for prayers.
He closed his eyes and was thankful for Patti in his life. In his culture, he was allowed to marry a woman like Patti as their faiths would be similar and they all prayed to the same God.
Once he was done, he went out back and waved for the girls. As they headed inside, he heard Rose cough and saw that her face was red. He knelt down and studied her closely. “Sara. Rose. How are you feeling?”
Rose coughed again, but said, “I’m feeling okay.”
Hmm. He closed the door but pointed them toward his home office, near the back door. “Can I take your temperature and listen to your breathing?”
Sara stayed with him and he lifted Rose onto the chair and took out his stethoscope to listen to her lungs…she felt warm but they lived in South Florida and she’d been playing outside.
His office didn’t have a hospital bed, but the chairs were fine as he had his computer, stethoscope, and basic medical equipment he owned arrayed on white shelves.
Patti must have wondered where he’d gone as she came into the small room with two seats. Her face went white as she saw him listening to Rose’s breathing. Once he finished, Patti asked, “Reza, do you think something’s wrong?”
There was no need to alarm her as Rose’s lungs were clear. He put the stethoscope back and said, “I heard her cough and just wanted to be sure. Her pneumonia is clearing up nicely.”
Patti hugged her sister and squeezed her tight. “Rose, are you okay?”
Sara’s lips began to tremble and it looked like she might cry as her brown eyes welled with pools of tears. He picked up his niece. “Sara, sweetie, come here.”
Patti’s sister didn’t say anything so Patti asked, “Rose?”
“I’m okay.” Rose coughed again.
Playing out in the humidity hadn’t been good as the air was heavy.
Patti blinked and then stared at him like he had all the answers. “Reza, what did you hear?”
Her lungs had rattled as the fluid she still had was drying up—which was normal and nothing to worry about. Reza needed to distance his feelings from parent to doctor. He never wanted to give false hope, even if he knew Rose would be fine so long as she rested. “Rose shouldn’t go to school yet. The infection isn’t cleared up entirely. I’ll call the pharmacy for a stronger antibiotic.”
Patti let out a huge breath, hugged her sister and then mussed her hair. “Guess you’re staying in longer.”
“Rose?” Sara asked in a small teary voice.
Wow. He hadn’t guessed his niece would be attached so soon. He couldn’t promise Sara that Rose or Patti would stay forever, as that wasn’t the deal.
He held Sara on his hip. Rose said, “I’m all right, Sara, don’t be scared. We’re sisters now.”
Patti kissed Sara’s cheek. His lips tingled like he’d been denied her kiss though he’d never be jealous of Sara. Patti winked. “Let’s go eat some breakfast.”
The four of them returned to the kitchen while Rose asked, “Is there more of that warm milk with cinnamon?”
“Not a good idea for Rose,” Reza said fast. “Milk stimulates mucus. Yogurt is fine, though.”
Patti refilled her glass. “Wait. What about the bread for Rose?”
Caught. His face felt hot though he hoped he didn’t blush anything like Patti and her mysterious shyness earlier. He ran his hand through his thick, short, curly hair. “You both said that you liked the taste of cinnamon so I left a note for the chef. It won’t be a problem.”
Patti grabbed a yogurt from the stainless steel refrigerator. “Reza?”
He held her chair for her. “Are you joining us, Patti?”
She opened the spice cabinet and searched through the containers. “One second.”
He didn’t understand. She then bounced toward him and sat down as he asked, “What?”
She placed the cinnamon on the table and kissed his cheek as he pushed her seat in. “You’re the best husband I could ask for.”
The girls ate their breakfast and talked to each other. He scooted closer to her and took her hand, kissing it as he murmured, “Last night was amazing, Patti. I never thought I wanted a wife, but you make every second of every day nicer.”
A huge smile lit her face. “No. I don’t. You do. It’s all because of you.”
No. He was just a man, near a pretty woman. With Patti it felt like he’d discovered hidden treasures, but he wasn’t prepared for her. With medical school, if he knew a challenge was coming, he mentally and physically readied himself. With Patti that didn’t work because she was sweet and easily went with the flow. He added cheese to his bread and glanced at her while he said, “I don’t want to disappoint you, Patti.”
She arranged her toast the same as he did and even added walnuts on top of hers. Before she took a bite she smiled and said, “Reza, you’re more than I ever asked for. Last night was a new beginning for me.”
They ate in silence. Today’s fresh bread tasted even sweeter because Patti was there to share it.
The girls excused themselves. They’d finished fast, but he was still enjoying his meal, thinking over her words. A new beginning.
Once they were done eating, he kept his hands on the table, not to scare her or invoke whatever caused her shyness. “What do you mean, by beginning?”
She closed her eyes and pressed them so tight, it was like she was making her birthday wish as she said, “I don’t want this to end? You and I… I’m tempted to believe we could live happily, together, forever.”
And right there, his heart beat a little different. “Would you want a real marriage, with me?”
She placed her hands in front of him and nodded. “I’d like to see if this could work.”
This was more than he thought possible. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it as he said, “Me too.”
“Then let’s try.” She traced his face like she was memorizing him.
He leaned closer and closed his eyes as she still tasted sweet on his lips as he said, “Patti, I’m yours.”
He kissed her again. They were so different but maybe, just maybe he’d found his soul mate. Until Patti, he’d thought the entire notion was something poets like Hafez had created, but now, he wondered if it was possible. Patti made him believe in happiness was possible again and he never wanted to let her go.
Chapter 10
An afternoon in Reza’s bed, and her body was still slightly tingling from all the activity earlier as he finished with his shower.
It was adorable that he sang in the shower and part of her wanted to sing too.
Patti traded her damp towel for her clothes and tugged her jeans up over her hips, then put on a green t-shirt. She finger-fluffed her hair, then decided to style it with his hair dryer.
The phone rang, sounding muffled through the closed bedroom door.
She turned the dryer off, but Reza didn’t hear the ring. She hurried to the kitchen and stared at his house wireless phone.
No one she knew had house phones anymore. She picked it up to bring back in the bedroom, but then closed her hand in a fist. She’d forgotten when you pick up a phone like this, the person was now connected. She swallowed and hoped this was a wrong number. “Hello?”
A woman snorted and asked, “Who’s this?”
Reza’s shower turned off. She walked toward the bathroom to hand over the phone as she said, “Patti Davies-”
“You must be the new nanny,” the woman interrupted. Patti opened the bathroom door as Reza wrapped his towel around his muscular hips and thighs. “Please put Dr. Moradi on the line.”
Her pulse buzzed and her lips pursed as she stared at the man who’d just rocked her world. She never wanted to share so she asked the woman, “Umm, and you are?”
“Leila,” the lady said like her name explained everything, “Amrinpour.”
Huh. She covered the speaker with her hand and offered Reza the phone as water still dripped down his cheeks. “Reza, it’s a woman named Leila.”
Reza used a hand towel to clean his face and took the phone. He passed her and returned to the bedroom as he said, “Leila, how are you?” She hugged her waist and followed him as he paced next to the unmade bed with light blue sheets. “That was Patti.” Good. Her heart lifted higher in her chest. Reza nodded at her like he was absolutely sure of her when he said, “She’s my wife.” Whatever had caused her hair to stand up receded. Reza was proud of her. But then his voice went up a little higher as he said, “No, that’s not a good idea.”
She picked up a hair brush to finish styling her hair as he pressed a button and ended the call. He tilted his head. “Patti, Leila is bringing over the Persian women to meet you tonight.”
She lowered the brush. “Who is Leila?”
His lips pressed together like a boy caught with his hand in a cookie jar. She froze, unsure what he’d say. “She thought I’d marry her.”
Adrenaline coursed through her and her body buzzed. She quickly brushed her hair so she used some of the energy but then slammed the brush down a little harder than she meant. “She… she was your girlfriend?”
He jumped to her side and took her hand that was still touching the brush. “No, I didn’t have a girlfriend. I don’t have a girlfriend. You’re all I have.”
Her heart lifted. That was good to hear. He stepped outside the bedroom with the phone to put it back and she checked herself in the mirror. She needed to relax. There wasn’t some other woman. She believed Reza. He returned, still in his towel, and she nodded at him with confidence. “I see. But why did Leila think you’d marry her then?”
He headed to the closet and picked out a pair of Saint Laurent jeans and a dark blue polo. “She knew about Sara and my adoption problems.”
So Leila had wanted to marry Reza. That explained the rush for tonight on Leila’s end—hopefully they’d figure out how to navigate the visit. He stepped into his tailored jeans and she said, “Ah. Let’s head to the DMV.”
But her mind reeled. He tugged his shirt on without saying anything so when his head popped free she crossed her hands and asked, “Why did you marry me if you had a deal with Leila?”
He picked up the hair brush she’d left on the bureau and brushed his short, curly hair, then walked it back into the bathroom and put it away in the cabinet. When he returned, he explained, “We didn’t have a deal. She hinted she’d be okay with us getting married, but I…”
Her heart thundered so fast in her chest she knew instantly she was jealous. “What?”
His lips thinned and he took her hands. “I couldn’t. She’s nice, but she never touched my heart. I only ever felt tired after every conversation.”
Oh. Her heart slowed to a normal pace and she hugged his hips. “Tired isn’t a good thing.”
He nodded like that was his best way to communicate with her and then said, “To be fair, I usually work extremely late or long hours. If we stay married-”
“If?” She’d hoped he was on the same page—that they’d try to make this marriage real. This wasn’t just great sex and an easy out for them. Hopefully they had more.
He smiled at her and brushed against her arm, leaving her skin craving his attention again. “I need to work long hours to help cure children at the hospital in the pediatrics wing.”
“Totally fine and I’m not arguing with what you feel compelled to do. But why not private practice?”
“When I’m tired of hospital pediatrics, I figured I’d “retire” into private practice, but the hospital gives me great experience and I earn a lot of vacation fast so I can do what I want if I can handle the hours.”
Work was important, but her body was turning to mush in his arms. “And what do you think I can do when you’re at the hospital?”
He shrugged, checked his always there five o’clock shadow, and then took her hand to lead her out. “Work on your music? Watch our girls? Or least give the nanny reasonable hours.”
