Dr. Mitchell by Raylin Marks EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Raylin Marks
- Language: English
- Genre: Medical Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Ash
I hardly heard the barista calling out my name after I’d zoned out on the
term paper I was never going to finish. I popped up from my seat and
weaved through the crowd of people that had swarmed the coffee
shop.
“Annie Position…” the barista said again, and I smirked at my lame
idea of a fake name that I thought would be funny—until all of the city
showed up and heard it. “Matcha Frappuccino.”
“Right here,” I said, cheeks hot with the attention my lame-ass idea
caused.
“Cute,” she said with a wink.
“Ha,” was all I could manage.
I turned to get the hell out of the mob, and the next thing I knew, my
stupid alias was no longer the attention grabber.
“Shit!” I said as my Frappuccino went directly into the center of a white
button-down shirt.
“Fuck,” the guy said, his arms out and eyes roaming over the green
stain, slowly oozing in a frozen blob down his shirt.
“Damn it. I’m so sorry!” I said, not knowing the first way to redeem
myself for spinning around too fast to pay attention to the couple standing
behind me.
His eyes met mine after I made some super effort to throw the offensive
drink in the trash and grab napkins. I instinctively threw a pile on the
ground and took the other handful to wipe what was left on his shirt.
His hand covered mine, and his blue eyes sparkled as the sun would
over a tropical sea. Holy fuck! I thought, trying to keep at bay the rapidlyapproaching, third embarrassing thing that could happen in five seconds.
This guy was the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on—Hollywood hunks
included.
“I’ve got it,” he said, his lips turning up into an irresistible grin.
“Good God,” a female’s voice screeched with annoyance. “Go!” she
waved me off, reminding me I’d caused enough damage already.
I eyed her. “Let me at least do something,” I said, her green eyes
narrowing while her mauve lips pursed in annoyance.
She folded her arms. “Do something?” she questioned me with an arch
of her perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Maybe you would like to lick your silly
drink off his chest?”
“Go order her another one,” the guy I’d assaulted with my drink said in
a half-humored, half-demanding tone to the woman.
“You don’t have to boss your girl around over my dumbass mistake.”
“She’s not my girl,” he said, glaring at the woman before he leveled me
with a darker stare. “What’s your choice of beverage that I have the luxury
of adding to my wardrobe colors today?”
WTF?
“What’s the drink?” the bitch seethed.
Who the hell were these two, the power-suit couple? They were dressed
and looked the part of two wealthy people who came to San Francisco to
take over the place.
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