Barefoot in the Sun Read Online Free PDF Page B

parameters.”
    “ Certain parameters ? So much for the Hippocratic oath.”
    He let his eyes go lower, lingering on her chest, amber turning to ebony as he watched it rise and fall.
    “Not to mention your marriage vows.”
    He merely shook his head. “Those are broken.”
    “Well, goodie for you, hot stuff. But I need a doctor, not a quickie.”
    Ever so slightly, one brow lifted. “It was never quick with us, Zoe.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “You are married.”
    “I’m divorced. It was final last week.”
    “You were with her at the grand opening last night.”
    He shrugged. “Only as a favor. She’d been invited by some local socialite who backed out at the last minute and she didn’t want to go alone.”
    Oh. Oh. “But I just saw her outside.”
    “She dropped…” He inched back, casting his eyes down for a second. “Something off.”
    A strange white heat rolled over her, along with the distinct and terrifying knowledge that the game had just changed. Oliver wasn’t married. Which meant she could—no, she wouldn’t . Never. Never, never, never .
    Except…what exactly was Pasha’s life worth to Zoe? Everything. Anything. Even that .
    She bit her lip and took a step closer. “I need help, Oliver. And I can’t get it anywhere else. I will do whatever you want.”
    “What are you suggesting, Zoe?”
    “You want me to spell it out? Three simple letters, then: s-e—”
    He stopped her with a raised hand, taking a deep, slow breath and a long, hungry gaze over her body again. Every hair on the back of her neck stood up, electrified. As he looked at her breasts, her nipples popped against the thin material. As he stared at her hips, she grew warm and achy right between her legs.
    When he got to her knees, those bad boys would forget their job completely and she’d be on the floor, like that night in the kitchen. But he never made it down that far.
    “No.” He walked around his desk and sat in his oversized chair. “Why don’t you start by telling me what’s wrong with her.”
    Holy hell. She’d offered herself as a human sacrifice and the son of a bitch turned her down.

Chapter Two
    T he rejection stung. Oliver could tell by the drop in Zoe’s shoulders, the way her mouth fought not to open in surprise, and, of course, by the flinch of pain that turned her emerald eyes more of a flat jade green.
    Still pretty—God, she was fucking gorgeous—but when he turned down her offer, the light went out of her face.
    He’d hurt her. Fine. They were possibly on the road to even, then. Maybe when she was sitting on the empty floor of a deserted house crying like a damn three-year-old, maybe then they’d be approaching even .
    “What are her symptoms, Zoe?” he asked, taking out a notepad to keep his itchy hands busy. Just so he didn’t even think about how much he’d rather lean forward and thread his fingers through that mess of caramel-colored curls, all whimsical silk and sass that somehow never changed.
    Corralling her cool, she dropped to the edge of a guest chair, pointing at the paper. “No notes. This is private. Off the record, completely. You may not make a file for her.”
    He angled his head. “You may believe the worst in me, but I honor patient confidentiality. Tell me what’s the problem.”
    “So she can be your patient?”
    “Tell me the problem.”
    On a soft sigh, she settled into the chair and tucked her legs under her, making the flowy skirt float over her legs and hide her feet like a lotus flower.
    “First of all, I don’t believe the worst in you, okay? We ended badly, I know, but—”
    “Badly?” He fired the word at her, making her flinch. “You call that ending badly?”
    She stared back. “Yeah, that was bad.”
    “Was it bad for you, Zoe?” He really needed to stop. She didn’t have to know what he’d gone through all these years later.
    “Bad enough,” she said, far too cavalier for his tastes.
    Really? Had she ached like he did? Had she wondered