Page 19 of Seven Days

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Page 19 of Seven Days

Thomas: I have a surprise waiting for you

My heart fluttersas I text him that I’m on my way. Why is he sweet, smart, and sexy? Why can’t he actually be the cold, arrogant asshole I always thought he was? Is that some defense mechanism he uses to keep people from getting too close? There’s got to be a story there.

The man has restraints built into his bed frame, so he clearly has no problem getting laid. I’m sure there is a list a mile long of women waiting for a night with him, but by and large he stays off the radar of the gossip mill. I don’t even ever remember him bringing a date around, let alone a girlfriend.

Obviously the easiest way to find out information would be to ask Dad. But that clearly is off the table. There’s no way he’d ever be okay with this. He’s texted everyday to check in, not just with me, but also with Thomas. I know the guilt after those conversations almost eats him alive.

We can handle this though. Three days down, four to go.

9

THOMAS

* * *

The surprise for Bri is a little over the top. Okay, a lot over the top. But she makes me feel. After years of finding nothing but empty one night fucks and pointless conversation, it’s like I found my drive again.

I look at her body and I feel desire, want, need.

I could spend hours talking to her about everything and nothing and never get bored.

She’s brilliant.

She’s beautiful.

She’s mine.

But only for four more days, so I’m whisking her away to Mexico where I can go out in public with her on my arm. I’m going to take her out to dinner where I can kiss her, hold her, and dance with her. Where we can let our chemistry and connection out for the world to see.

I already have her bag packed and a jet waiting at the airport to take us down. I called up one of my regular patients yesterday and asked if I could use their house down in Cabo for a few days. They’re always offering it up, and if this isn’t the perfect opportunity, I don’t know what is.

There are perks to being a plastic surgeon to the ultra wealthy, and this is definitely one of them. While some of my colleagues chase fame on the internet and television, I welcome discretion, and clients who don’t want their name and procedures accidentally leaked to the press.

My leg bounces as I hear the garage door open and Brianna’s footsteps down the hall. Her wide smile when she sees me is all I need. My God, she’s gorgeous. It’s only been twelve hours since we’ve seen each other, but my eyes drink in the sight of her in a pair of cut off denim shorts and an olive green tank top, like I haven’t seen her in days . Her raven locks flow over her shoulder, just begging for my fingers.

“What’s this?” She points at the two suitcases and looks at me quizzically.

“Feel like getting away for a few days?”

“Where to?”

“Mexico.” I grab her wrist and pull her between my legs. “One of my patients has a house they’re always offering up. I called yesterday to see if it was available. It is and I have a jet on standby to take us there now.”

“Really?” She steps back and looks at me. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. Let me spoil you out in the open for a few days.”

I can see the indecision warring on her face. It probably feels like a lot. First the house. Now a trip. But I want this and she’ll enjoy it so I stand and link our fingers together. She follows, but I can feel the hesitancy in every step.

By the time we’re climbing the steps to the plane she’s much more on board with the trip idea. I know she’s flown private before, her father is the CEO of an investment firm, they have money. She just isn’t interested in living life on her dad’s dollar. I’ve always known that. Jack complains all the time about how she refuses his money, aside from school. She still drives the Audi he got her when she graduated from high school.

Brianna settles into one of the oversized chairs and accepts a glass of champagne from the flight attendant, her long, bare legs crossing as she looks out the window.

She takes a sip and then looks over at me.“I don’t think I can accept the house.”

“I’m not giving it to you,” I scoff. “I’m letting you live there for a year as a graduation gift.”

“It’s got to be a ten million dollar property.” She takes another sip. “It’s too much for what this is.” She gestures back and forth between us.




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