Holding Out for Doctor Perfect. Teresa Southwick
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the wisdom to realize that the baby was better off in a stable home with two parents. Still, a trauma like that left an indelible mark on the soul.
“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.” Spencer’s voice cut through her dark thoughts.
“I hate flying.” She loved the airport but dreaded getting on a plane. “I can’t wait for technology that can beam us where we want to go.”
“It will no doubt be expensive to demolecularize someone, transport them to another location and remolecularize them.” His tone was wry.
“In a perfect world there will be plenty of money.”
Spencer guided the BMW onto the 215 Beltway going west then took the Sunset exit toward McCarran. In minutes there were signs directing them toward Arriving or Departing flights and short- or long-term parking with blue, green and yellow triangles on the roadway. He went to valet, of course, which was the priciest option. So much for his soapbox stand on sticking to a budget and keeping expenses down.
After unloading their luggage, he handed the keys to the attendant and they wheeled the bags into the building and past the classic red Thunderbird on display, a nod to the fact that it was flashier and more fun in Vegas. After passing shops and slot machines, the escalator was on their right and went down to the next floor for check-in. Preferred, of course, where there was no waiting.
Since the two of them were traveling on the same reservation confirmation number, they walked up together. There was a very attractive blonde behind the high counter who was only too happy to help Spencer.
She looked at the computer printout and her smile grew wider. “So, you’re going to Dallas, Dr. Stone?”
“We both are,” he said.
“May I see your ID?”
“Of course.” He handed over his and Avery’s, which got a cursory look, as compared to a long perusal for his.
“Your flight is on time, Doctor, and leaving from Gate D14. If there’s anything I can do to make it more pleasant, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“Thank you.”
They followed signs for their gate and Avery said, “Doctor Awesome strikes again.”
“Oh, please,” he scoffed.
Before she could rebut, they joined the line to pass through security. After again presenting IDs and boarding passes, they fell in with people removing shoes, belts and watches as carry-on luggage went on the conveyor belt and into the screening process.
Spencer was waved through the metal detector by a—what else?—female uniformed agent. Naturally, she gave him a big, flirtatious smile as he went through. After gathering up everything, they proceeded to the waiting area and found seats side by side.
Avery looked at him in awe. “Being you must be extraordinarily wonderful.”
His expression oozed amusement. “What are you talking about?”
“Every woman you encounter falls in worship at your feet.”
“Every woman?” he said, giving her a pointed look. “I can think of one notable exception.”
“Does it ever get old?”
“I think you’re exaggerating.”
“You think wrong. Take the TSA lady.” She folded her hands in her lap. “Normally they’re cold, efficient, abrasive even. Not only was she pleasant, the most vigilance she showed was checking out your butt.”
“As flattering as that is—”
“I could see she was wishing you’d opt out of a scan and give her an excuse to pat you down.”
“I didn’t notice.”
“Of course you didn’t. Why should you? It’s probably always like that.”
He grinned. “Was anyone rude to you? I could beat them up.”
“No. But compared to the way you were treated, I could have been the third asterisk at the bottom of security rules and regulations.”
He laughed. “I think you’re making it up.”
“I swear.” She held up her hand in a solemnly sincere gesture. “Does being perfect ever get old?”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew me better.”
Clearly she’d been teasing him and it was by far one of the most harmless things she’d ever said to him, but all traces of amusement disappeared from his face. The contrast was so obvious and striking that she wondered what nerve she’d stepped on.
Not even her comment about all his women had made him look like that. Was it possible Doctor Heartthrob actually had a heart? Intriguing and, darn it all, the realization made her want to know more.
Spencer sat on the chrome and black faux-leather connected chair beside Avery and waited for their flight. Since her question about whether or not being perfect ever got old, they hadn’t exchanged any words.
His fault.
Apparently this visit to see his family was stirring up a whole pile of psychological crap, although he shouldn’t be surprised. Trips home usually did that, what with the pressure on the Stone kids to achieve. His sister, Becky, had performed every aspect of her life to William and Catherine Stone’s expectations. Her twin, Adam, was a doctor and didn’t care that the folks disapproved of his area of specialization. But Spencer was the firstborn son and hadn’t been cut any slack, couldn’t get to a place where he was neutral. He still cared deeply whether or not he made a mistake and disappointed them. His reaction to Avery’s teasing words proved that.
Just then there was an announcement in the terminal informing everyone waiting for the flight to Dallas that their aircraft would be landing soon. After the passengers deplaned, boarding would begin.
“That’s my cue.” Avery stood and settled the strap of her purse securely on her shoulder. Then she pulled out the handle of her carry-on to take it with her. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”
“I’ll watch your bag,” he offered.
“That’s okay.”
“You don’t trust me.” His eyes narrowed on her, but a smile threatened.
“Not exactly. But I wouldn’t put it past you to tell a security guard it was left unattended.”
“That would never have crossed my mind,” he said. “Thanks for the idea.”
“No problem.”
He grinned and it felt good. She was a welcome distraction from his dark thoughts. “Seriously, won’t it be faster and easier if you don’t have to drag it with you? Since I need your cooperation to get my way with the robotic surgery system, would it really be smart to play a practical joke?”
“Now that you mention it …” She looked thoughtful. “And no one ever said you didn’t have a high IQ.”
“So it’s settled. I’ll watch your bag.”
She studied him for a moment. “You really don’t mind?”
“No.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She pushed the handle back in and left it beside him.
Spencer studied her as she walked away. No, study was the wrong word. He checked out her butt. Dynamite. The white collar of her silky blouse was neatly folded over the jacket of her black crepe suit. Trim shoulders narrowed to a slim waist and curvy hips covered by the matching skirt. Sheer black pantyhose sheathed her shapely legs and high heels made those legs look longer, sexier. And then he saw it.
Red on the soles of her shoes.
The flash of color was like finding out her secret. A hint that she wasn’t as proper