The light glittered in Nathanâs eyes as his knuckles lightly grazed her cheek. âIâm going to kiss you.â
âDo you really think thatâs a good ideaââ
âNo. But all night I havenât been able to take my eyes off you. I want to see how that sexy, sassy, smart mouth tastes.â
Her heart started to pound until she thought it would jump right out of her chest. âOh, myââ
âI canât help it.â He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a shaking hand. âI want to feel all the passion you put into being so tough.â
Words were trapped in Cindyâs throat, so she started to shake her head. The feel of his lips stopped her as surely as it shut down all rational thought â¦
Dear Reader,
I love fairy tales and have since I was a little girl. Sleeping Beauty. Cinderella. Beauty and the Beast. It wasnât clear then, but reading those classics was the foundation for my career as a romance writer now.
I had so much fun tweaking the fairy-tale elements in Cindyâs Doctor Charming. The âballâ where she first talks to her hero is the beginning of the story, not the end. And, as every woman knows, the perfect fit of a shoe is worth its weight in happily-ever-afters. But for Cindy and Nathan itâs the broken heel on her borrowed pumps that allows fate to catch up and bring these two lonely people together in a way neither of them expects.
I hope you enjoy reading their story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
All the best,
Teresa Southwick
PS I love to hear from readers. Feel free to contact me through my website at www.teresasouthwick.com.
She was a fake and a fraud.
Cindy Elliott was walking, talking, breathing proof that not only was it possible to make a silk purse from a sowâs ear, but you also could take her out in public. So far no one had pointed and laughed at her pretending to be one of the exalted affluent. But the night was young and she was the queen of getting dumped on.
Famous-rich and anonymous-wealthy people were crammed into this ballroom. She was pretty sure that, unlike herself, none of them had won their seat at this thousand-dollar-a-plate fundraiser with a raffle ticket. Any second she expected the riffraff police to see through her disguise and throw her out.
It wouldnât be the worst thing that ever happened to her, but it was not high on her list of things to do. Her plan was to enjoy every moment of this night. Take in every detail and let the memories brighten the daily grind as she dug herself out of the deep financial hole sheâd ended up in after trusting a man.
Cindy grew up in Las Vegas but this was the first time sheâd ever been to a shindig at Caesarâs Palace. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead and silver light trickled down on white tablecloths and somehow made the fragrant arrangements of fresh, vibrantly colored flowers smell even better. Candles flickered but paled in comparison to the views visible from floor-to-ceiling windows of the neon skyline outside on the Strip.
She wished more people were looking at it instead of her, more specifically male people. A lot of the dapper men in dark suits and tuxedos were staring at her as she snaked her way through the crush of bodies. She felt conspicuous and self-conscious in her strapless, champagne-colored cocktail dress. It was knee length, and now was not a good time to wish for more material.
Finally she reached the perimeter of the room and found the table number that corresponded to the one on her invitation. There were eight chairs and all of them were empty. She decided to sit down and take the strain off her borrowed shoes, minding her friendâs warning not to test the limits of a Super Glue repair on a four-inch heel.
Moments later someone appeared in her peripheral vision and a familiar deep voice said, âIs this seat taken?â
Cindy looked up. The face matched the voice as sheâd feared it would. Nathan Steele, MD. Dr. Charming himself, she thought sarcastically. He always made her think of Hugh Jackmanâtall and broad-shouldered, with hazel eyes and dark brown hair. It pained her to admit, even to herself, that his traditional black tuxedo made him look very handsomeâfor a bad-tempered, arrogant, egotistical physician.
After a couple seconds of him standing there expectantly, the message translated from her eyes to her brain that he was waiting for an answer. Glancing at the seven empty seats, she briefly thought about saying that her date was sitting there, then abandoned the idea. She might be a pathetic loser who was a really bad judge of men, but she wasnât a liar.
âNo,â she finally said. âThat seat isnât taken.â
He smiled, then lowered his excellent butt into the chair beside hers. âIsnât that lucky?â