His Honourable Surgeon

This was bad. Really bad. Vicky never, but never, fantasised like that. She didn’t want children and she didn’t want a life partner. She wanted a career. She wanted to blaze a trail in medicine and discover new things. She wanted to save people.

So why couldn’t she get his face out of her head?

It was worse because she’d seen him practically naked at the pool. Jake’s swimming shorts were perfectly demure, but she’d seen him dive into the pool at the gym they both went to. She’d seen his perfect musculature, the light sprinkling of hair on his chest, his strong, sturdy body. And she’d wanted to touch—something that had sent her straight to the side of the pool and out to the showers before she’d done something stupid. Like suggesting breakfast together. And not after a session at the gym, either.