CHAPTER 5: DOCTOR'S VISIT

VERONICA

The next day, my thighs were still buzzing with a lingering, pleasant ache as I pulled the BMW into the sterile, concrete parking structure of the medical plaza. I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. The emerald dress was a casualty of last night's roadside negotiation, but today I looked every bit the picture of put-together corporate perfection in a tailored cream pantsuit.

I was here for a routine corporate physical and a travel booster shot—perks of the new gig—but luckily for me, the primary physician on the firm's approved list happened to be Mex.

Mex and I went back years, all the way to our chaotic high school days. He was one of the few people who actually knew the girl behind the armour, the one who grew up fighting the system with nothing but her wits.

I bypassed the reception desk with a familiar wave to the nurse and walked straight into Examination Room 3. Mex was standing by the counter, his back to me, filling a syringe. Even in a lab coat, his broad shoulders and lean frame were undeniable.

"I hope you're gentler with that needle than you used to be with your whiskey shots, Mex," I purred, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

He turned around, a startled laugh escaping his lips before his face broke into a warm, genuine smile. "Veronica. I saw your name on the chart, but I didn't believe it. Look at you. Christopher's firm must be treating you well."

"They know how to incentivise talent," I said, hopping up onto the examination table, my heels dangling off the edge. "But let's talk about you. Dr Maxwell Evans. Look how respectable we’ve become."

"Some of us had to grow up," he teased, walking over with the syringe and an alcohol wipe. "Roll up your sleeve."

As he stepped close, the familiar, comforting scent of his cologne mixed with the sterile smell of the room. I rolled up my sleeve, watching his hands. They were steady, professional, but as his fingers brushed against my bare shoulder to prep the skin, I felt a sudden, familiar spike of electricity. I looked up, catching his eye. Mex hesitated for a fraction of a second, his gaze dropping to my lips before he cleared his throat and looked away.

"So," I murmured, leaning in just an inch closer. "Are you going to make me brave, or do I need to hold your hand?"

"You've never been afraid of anything in your life, Vero," he muttered, his voice a little lower now. He pressed the needle into my arm. It was a sharp pinch, but I didn't even flinch. I kept my eyes locked on his, watching the way his throat moved as he swallowed hard.

He capped the syringe and set it down, but he didn't step back. He stayed right there, trapped in my orbit. "You haven't changed at all, have you? Still looking for trouble."

"Only when it's worth the find," I whispered, reaching out to lightly trace the lapel of his white coat. "I heard a rumour you got engaged, Dr Evans. Is she keeping you satisfied?"

Mex’s breath hitched. "Vero, don't. Chloe is—she’s great. We're getting married in three months."

"Good for her," I said, my hand sliding down to his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath his shirt. "But she's not here right now."

Before he could protest, the handle of the examination room turned. The door swung open, and a petite, blonde woman in a chic pastel sundress walked in, carrying a takeout coffee tray.

"Hey, babe, I brought you that iced latte you—" Chloe stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes darting from my hand on Mex's chest to the sheer, seductive intent written all over my face.

The silence in the room became absolute, thick with sudden, suffocating tension. Mex froze, his face going pale. "Chloe. Hey. This is... this is Veronica. An old friend from high school."

Chloe didn't look angry; she looked stunned, her gaze lingering on me with a mixture of intimidation and intense curiosity. I didn't pull my hand away from Mex. Instead, I let my fingers slide lower, deliberately brushing against the waistband of his slacks.

"Hi, Chloe," I said, my voice dropping into a smooth, sultry register. I slid off the examination table, standing tall in my heels, effectively trapping Mex between the table and myself while facing his fiancée. "Mex was just telling me all about you. He says you're perfect."

Chloe swallowed hard, her eyes glued to the movement of my hips as I took a slow step toward her. The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly, transitioning from professional decorum into something deeply wicked and uninhibited.

"I... I brought coffee," Chloe whispered, her voice trembling, though she didn't back away. She was staring at my lips now.

"Forget the coffee," I murmured, reaching out to take the tray from her hands and setting it carelessly on the counter next to the medical supplies. I closed the distance between us, my fingers reaching out to cup Chloe’s chin, tilting her face up. "You're gorgeous, Chloe. No wonder Mex is trapped. But I think you both look a little stressed. Planning a wedding is so exhausting, isn't it?"

Chloe’s breath came in short, ragged gasps. She looked past me to Mex, whose eyes were wide, dark with a dangerous mix of panic and overwhelming arousal. He wasn't stopping me.

"Mex..." Chloe whispered, a plea that sounded entirely like an invitation.

"She's right, Chloe," Mex said, his voice completely wrecked. He stepped up behind me, his large hands coming down to grip my waist, pulling my back flush against his chest. His breathing was heavy, all professional pretence entirely shattered. "Veronica always gets what she wants."

I smiled then locked the door with a click, a feral, triumphant curve of my lips as I leaned in and pressed my mouth to Chloe’s. She tasted like sweet vanilla and nerves, shivering violently as I pulled her into the room and locked the door behind her with a definitive, heavy click.

"Let's see if the doctor can handle a double prescription," I whispered against her lips, reaching back to guide Mex’s hands exactly where I wanted them.