Dr. Hottie: Bad Boy Doctors Book 2
Dr. Hottie
Bad Boy Doctors Book 2
Virna DePaul
Contents
Description
More From Virna DePaul
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Hard Time Excerpt: Prologue
Hard Time Excerpt: Ch 1
Get Hard Time
Books by Virna
About the Author
Copyright
Description
Playing doctor in paradise…
* * *
Raegan Reynolds never realized just how hot the spotlight could burn until it nearly destroyed her surgical career. She knows who she is now, and she won’t let any man make her forget again. All she wants is to enjoy her vacation in the Dominican Republic before she lands the role of Denver’s Graton Gift Hospital’s newest chief surgeon.
* * *
Thirty seconds. That’s all it takes for one perfect specimen of a man to take control of her passion. Under his rock-steady hands, her knees go too weak to do what she ought to do—walk away.
* * *
Women don’t make Dr. Noah Alexander’s hands go clammy—until this one. One look at her freckled nose, crooked grin and intelligent eyes, and his pulse races. But she refuses to reveal her real name.
* * *
Peeling away her layers won’t be easy, but he’s determined to make it happen. Just when he’s broken through her walls, however, Raegan’s reminded that giving into passion means sacrificing her career.
* * *
Noah’s going to prove her wrong.
* * *
He’s done playing games. For the first time where love is concerned, he’s playing for keeps.
For N.W.
So glad we met. Thanks for sharing your amazing adventures.
More From Virna DePaul
BAD BOY DOCTORS SERIES
* * *
KISS TALENT AGENCY SERIES
* * *
HARD AS NAILS SERIES
* * *
GOING DEEP SERIES
* * *
BEDDING THE BACHELORS SERIES
* * *
HOME TO GREEN VALLEY SERIES
* * *
ROCK CANDY SERIES
* * *
THE PARA-OPS PARANORMAL SERIES
* * *
His Royal Hotness (A Royally Hot Romance)
* * *
Seal of A Lifetime
Chapter 1
Noah
* * *
I’d had it with listening to her phone’s fucking camera shutter. One more click and I swore I was going to find a rocky cliff or bottomless river or rabid monkey—whichever came first.
We were in the heart of miles and miles of serene, stunning nature. I should have been hearing a babbling brook or the wind whistling through the trees or even the crunch of gravel under my feet. Not the incessant noise of selfie bullshit.
At our agonizing pace of one hundred selfies to every ten steps, I figured we’d make it to the mountain just in time for the Dominican Republic’s peak tourist season to die down. That was the only positive I could come up with—and it was a stretch.
Her name was Jillian, she was a model I met at the resort, and we’d fucked the night before after a few too many Coronas. She’d said she hated hiking, so I said I was planning on going hiking. Suddenly, she loved hiking.
Now here we were, on what could only loosely be called a hike. We stopped constantly for her to find the perfect light, angle, and filter for yet another picture next to a slightly different flower than the one five yards back.
“That one’s fire-engine red and this one here is definitely more of a brick red,” she’d explained.
“Okay.”
“I had my hair up in that one, and in this one I have my hair only half up. It’s a completely different look.”
“All right.”
“Wait, wait.” She’d scrolled through her phone during one of the rare moments we were moving up the trail. “In this one I did duck face, and duck face is so over! I’m going back.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Just ahead, I noticed a sign for a scenic overview. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed Jillian was once again distracted by the image of her own face in a two-and-a-half-inch by four-inch screen. Based on the fifty previous times we’d stopped, she wouldn’t be done anytime soon.
“I’m going up this way, all right?” I shouted.
She tilted her head. I thought she was going to look at me, but she just wanted a better angle to wink an eye, stick out her pierced tongue, and flash a peace sign.
As she clicked away, I turned to the steep, narrow path rising up between two gray rock formations. I climbed the uneven stairs cut into the stone, relishing the sounds of just my own breathing and my feet beneath me.
At the top, the path opened into a rocky outcrop overlooking a humid, green jungle valley sweeping down to white sand beaches and beyond them the ocean. I stood there, at the edge, and gazed out over the raw, untapped beauty before me.
For a brief moment, I imagined being with a woman who wouldn’t look at this view through a phone screen. Someone I could be quiet and still with.
“Noah!”
The trees shook, the startling shout causing birds to fly into the warmth of the sun.
“Noah!” Jillian called from down the path. “Noah? Where did you go?”
I dug my palms into my eye sockets, steeling my nerves before turning around and climbing back down toward the hell of endless selfies I knew awaited me.
“Coming,” I shouted back half-heartedly.
How could I end the hike early without hurting Jillian’s feelings? Maybe I could say I was hung over? Overheated? Ready for a drink at the resort’s swim-up bar? Before I’d decided, I emerged from the trail’s cover and came to a screeching halt.
“There you are, baby,” Jillian said, wrapping herself around my arm and pulling me forward. “I want you to meet my two new friends.”
A man and a woman stood in front of me, two strangers. I barely noticed the tanned, dark-haired man as I took in the gorgeous woman next to him. She wore a light cotton shirt unbuttoned over her bikini top. It fluttered in the gentle wind to reveal toned abs all the way to torn blue jean shorts slung low on her hips. Her tanned legs stretched for miles before reaching her muddy and worn hiking boots.
“This is Pedro. He’s a Brazilian soccer player.” Jillian squinted at the woman. “And, this is, um, what was it?”
The woman’s gaze brushed across me, but she smiled at Jillian. “Samantha. I’m Samantha.”
“Right, right.” Jillian laughed. “So Pedro, we Americans call it soccer and you call it football? Isn’t that so funny?”
Jillian’s voice seemed to drift away. It mixed with the ocean breeze that swept up along the treetops of the valley and played through the long golden locks of the woman standing in front of us. Her light blue eyes focused politely on Jillian, but a smile played at her lips, and every few seconds her eyes flickered to me.
Jillian was frenetic and chaotic, much like the bubbling stream we’d passed on the trail. Samantha was serene and still, like the deep water of the lake at the to
p of the mountain we were hiking to. Staring at her, I swore I could feel cool water under my fingertips. Its silent depths caressed me even though I was surrounded for miles by sticky jungle air.
“Did you hear me?” Jillian poked at my chest.
I blinked. “Sorry. What did you say?”
“I said it like five times.”
“I know, I know, I was distracted.”
Eyes downcast, Samantha kicked the gravelly path, but her grin was still there. Shit.
“I said we should hike together.” Jillian tugged on my arm. “Right, Noah? Don’t you think that would be fun, to hike with Pedro and, what was it again?”
“Samantha.”
I hadn’t even realized I’d said it out loud until Jillian looked at me with a frown.
“Of course. Don’t you think we should hike with Pedro and Samantha?”
I shrugged and stuffed my hands in my pockets. Chill. I’m chill. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me.”
Jillian pulled me along, holding me tighter against her body as we passed Samantha. We walked by a bunch of Instagram-worthy flowers, and she didn’t even pull out her phone.
“I was thinking we could get room service for dinner tonight,” Jillian said. “We could eat naked on the balcony.”
“I love eating naked on balconies,” Samantha said.
Jillian glared over her shoulder at her. “I was talking to Noah.”
“Oh, my bad,” Samantha said. “You said it loud enough to invite the whole jungle.”
Jillian made a whining sound and tugged again at my arm.
I looked over my shoulder and said, “You’re officially uninvited to naked balcony eating. I’m sorry.”
Samantha’s grin widened. “But–”
“I’m sorry. Uninvited.” I winked at her and looked over at Mr. Brazilian soccer player. “Pedro, if you bring the champagne and strawberries, you’re in.”
Jillian cackled and wrapped her arm around my waist. “You’re so funny, Noah.” When I didn’t respond, she added, “I didn’t notice that in bed last night.”
“Bed fright.”
Both Jillian and I turned around.
“What’s that?” Jillian asked, her voice short and terse.
“It’s like stage fright, but much worse. And in bed, of course,” Samantha said. “Most comedians perform worst in bed, you know. You should have had him do his stand-up on a stage.”
Jillian’s mouth hung open. “He wasn’t doing stand-up.”
Samantha shrugged. “I usually don’t have any problems getting a guy to stand up, so no advice there.”
I barely contained my laughter, even as her joke seemed to go straight over Jillian’s head.
With a frown, Jillian said, “Let’s just keep hiking, okay? Right, Pedro?”
Pedro seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the show between the two women. From the look on his face, he probably would’ve preferred to stay where we were and watch them fight with pillowcases. I admit, I’d have liked that too…
“So, hiking!” I said before my mind wandered too far. “Let’s hike. Right, Jillian?”
She took my hand, and we continued up the path. I snuck a glance back at Samantha, disappointed she was talking with Pedro. But when I was about to turn back around, her eyes flickered again to me. In my periphery, I saw large green fronds lining the way and flashes of purple and red and orange flowers. But front and center to it all was the mesmerizing blue of Samantha’s eyes.
We hiked on in relative peace, with minimal catty looks from Jillian to Samantha. As we made our way over a steep portion of the path filled with loose rocks, I heard a small yelp behind us. I turned around to find Samantha on the ground, grimacing and holding her ankle.
“Let me look at it.” I moved towards her and knelt down. Part of me wanted to tell her I was a doctor—okay, part of me wanted to brag I was a doctor in an attempt to impress her—but I hadn’t told Jillian. I didn’t want to tell Jillian. Often when a single woman heard I was a doctor, I could practically see her running the title Mrs. Dr. Noah Alexander over in her head, and I didn’t want to give Jillian any ideas.
Samantha pulled her ankle back from my hands and narrowed her eyes. “Do you have medical training or something?”
I almost smiled. In all likelihood, if I did tell her I was a doctor, the last thing Samantha would imagine was taking my name. She’d probably grill me about my qualifications, including my MCAT score. While she was certainly beautiful, I was experienced enough to understand how alluring her take-him-or-leave-him attitude intensified my attraction to her. The thrill of the chase and all that. Add in the sense of humor and quick wit she’d already displayed and fuck…all she had to do was reel me in.
I acted offended by her question. “I’ll have you know I have my Boy Scout badge in Emergency Wilderness Medical Response with a specialty badge in Ankles Twisted in the Dominican Republic.”
She smirked. “For some reason, I highly doubt that.”
I tapped my fingers against my chin. “I also have an expired CPR certificate from lifeguard training when I was sixteen.”
“Well why didn’t you say so?”
She guided her boot into my hands and I smiled as I worked at her laces.
“Is this going to, like, take a while or what?” Jillian asked. She was still standing a few feet ahead, watching my hands on Samantha. “We’re losing the light.”
That’s when Pedro stepped forward. In perfect English and without a trace of a Portuguese accent, he suggested he take Jillian to the lake at the end of the trail. Samantha and I could head up when we were done. From where I kneeled, I watched Jillian eye Pedro from head to toe and then wrap her hands around his bicep.
“What do you think, Noah?”
Despite how little I’d been enjoying Jillian’s company, I said, “Why don’t you wait for us? We might need to head back.” Pedro looked like a fine guy, but I’d started the hike with Jillian, and I figured I owed it to her to make sure she got back to the resort safely. Jillian didn’t appear to feel the same way.
“In that case, Pedro and I will definitely go out on our own. Come on, Pedro!”
“Jillian—” I tried again, but she simply waved over her shoulder as she and Pedro continued up the path. “Bye, Noah! Bye, Suzannah.”
“Shit,” I muttered, wondering if I should go after them. Then I felt a hand on my arm.
“She should be fine,” Samantha said. “I met Pedro a couple of days ago and researched him online before agreeing to come on the hike with him today. He actually is a celebrity soccer player, and I not only have his number, but his coach’s back at the hotel, too.”
“You got all that before agreeing to go hiking with him?”
Samantha rolled her eyes. “Of course. I wasn’t about to go hiking in the jungle with a guy I knew nothing about.”
“Of course not,” I said, even as I thought about how little Jillian knew about me and how little I knew about her before we’d set out. I found Samantha’s blend of pragmatism and sense of adventure incredibly attractive. But then again, it seemed there wasn’t much about her I didn’t find attractive.
Right at that moment, she winced as she moved her ankle, and I refocused my attention on her injury. “Sorry,” I said as I eased her shoe off.
“For Jillian ditching us so easily or my ankle?”
I considered the question. “Neither.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry I didn’t meet you last night. That would solve the problems of Jillian and your ankle.”
She laughed. “Smooth.”
I tested the mobility of her ankle in several directions, asking if it caused her pain. Each time, she shook her head.
After a few moments during which I could hear my heart racing from the touch of my skin against hers, she said, “So, your name is Noah, eh?”
“That’s right. So, your name is Samantha?” I asked, gently holding her ankle.
“Nope.”
I l
ooked up in surprise. “No?”
She shook her head with a grin. Her long, blonde hair slipped down and covered one eye, and I caught the smell of peppermint. Sweet peppermint.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” she asked.
Her grin unnerved me. It was calm and confident, entirely unlike the giggling, blushing, eye-fluttering expression I usually elicited from women. “Well, what’s your name then?”
“Samantha.”
“But you said–”
“I know.”
That same grin was still there. I searched her face for a hint of who she was, what she desired, what she hated, what made her laugh, where she grew up, where she wanted to travel, where she had been all my life. But all I saw were berry-stained lips, sun-kissed cheeks dotted with freckles, and beautiful blue eyes staring right back at me through a halo of light blonde eyelashes.
“What should I call you then?”
She shrugged. “What do you want to call me?”
I ran my finger across her ankle. “My date for dinner?”
Those eyes of hers, hiding untold mysteries, looked down at me. They looked dark and still, despite her hair glowing in the sun and dancing in the wind.