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I head back to my seat feeling incredibly somber. Just as soon as I sit down, a deep, commanding voice comes through that makes me jump in my chair.
"Ramona?"
I turn to the side to find the owner of such a demanding voice, and I'm stunned to stillness as I see a man covered in a crisp white lab coat walking toward me.
I feel my eyes widen as I take in the sight of him.
He's incredibly good-looking, possibly the most handsome man I've ever seen in real life.
He's really tall, maybe even taller than Jamie, and perhaps just as big. His strides are long, as are his legs.
I look up to meet his eyes, and my breath catches in my throat as the iciest, coldest pair of eyes settle on mine. They're beyond intimidating, and they seem to pierce through my very soul with their frosty, pale blue color.
They give off this strangely intense vibe that I've never experienced before, and I can't seem to look away from them. They're alluring and enticing and frightening all at once. It's almost like looking into the eyes of a beautiful serial killer. You know it will be the end of you, but you can't for the life of you look away.
He extends his hand to me as I sit there just staring at him, trying to remember how to speak. I somehow manage to stand up and take it with a trembling hand, standing face to face with his broad chest.
His hand is big, too, and it easily engulfs mine as he squeezes it gently in a handshake. The firm hold, despite how brief it is, shoots sharp tingles straight through my body that shamelessly travel and collect in my lower belly and groin.
I feel my nether regions throb abruptly at the contact of skin on skin, and I'm beyond shocked that I'm responding like this to a formal gesture from a total stranger.
From somewhere in the universe, I hear my voice come through in a breathy question.
"D-Doctor Templin?" I ask nervously.
There's no way in hell this potential linebacker is a doctor, but I have to ask anyway.
I sound so hoarse, and I'm not sure if it's from throwing up just a few minutes ago or from beholding the imposing six and a half or so feet of sexual eye-candy in front of me. Perhaps both, but somehow, I'm inclined to believe it's the latter.
I don't think I've ever felt such strong attraction for anyone from just looking at them, and I was never really a believer in the whole insta-lust thing. I think this man just debunked that for me.
He slightly loosens his hold on my hand, but doesn't let it go.
"No, I'm Doctor Dexter Frost," he corrects. "John had to attend to an emergency that he just found out about. He apologizes for the short notice and asked me to sit in for your appointment, if that's okay with you."
The rumble and tenor of his voice is deliciously deep, and my ears are screaming in absolute bliss. I can actually envision my ear drums in frantic applause, giving a standing ovation to the sexy, baritone sound that's invading them.
His name rings all sorts of bells. I'm pretty sure I've heard of him before. My mind searches my memory for several seconds as I continue to scan his chiseled face, and I finally put a link to the name.
No freaking way!, I tell myself.
The Dexter Frost?
It can't be...
I'd learned of him years ago when...when my mother was diagnosed with cancer. I feel my brows furrow in question and curiosity. What the hell is one of the top oncologists in the world doing in a college county in Wisconsin?
I feel unmistakable wetness beginning to form and collect between my thighs, and I have to avert my eyes from his to compose myself.
And just how the hell did I go from feeling sick to my stomach to undeniably horny in a matter of minutes?
I remain stunned, my hand still in his with my entire body paralyzed.
My eyes are on the verge of popping out of their sockets in spasms as they drink in his impossibly gorgeous face and big body—as they drink in the paradoxically cold and icy, yet beautiful and mesmerizing gaze of the infamous, allegedly unconventional, and disturbingly handsome medical physician;
Dexter Frost.
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