Black Diaries

72. Playing Doctor

It was unfair. It was completely, absolutely and totally unfair. I mean, picture for a moment meeting the man of all girls' dreams, a god come to earth, the most perfect male in the entire history of mankind. Are you picturing it?

Let me guess: the picture of your meeting includes a romantic backdrop, maybe a sunset, and the murmur of ocean waves. Your picture also includes a light breeze that makes your hair billow in an attractive slow-motion kind of way, your makeup is perfect and your smile just a little bit brighter than you remember it being in front of the mirror back home.

I bet that your picture doesn't include you lying prone and wheezing on your sickbed, your nose clogged and only one eye open. Oh yippee. I'm such a lucky girl.

"My Lady." The velvet iron in his voice was overpowering. With that voice, he could have any woman on her knees, begging for it, without even having to touch her. And as for his face...

Oh my God.

His eyes were the first thing you noticed: deep-set, fiery and black. Not dark blue, or dark green, or any other color of the rainbow, but black as night. And they were gazing directly at me.

Oh my God, please help me breathe...

The face out of which those eyes were regarding me was truly too beautiful for a mere mortal. Don't get me wrong, I had seen beautiful men before. But this wasn't just a beautiful man. This was the mold from which all beautiful men were cast, armed with a stolen cupid's bow and the instincts of an alpha wolf in the mating season. His face was perfect, light and smooth as marble, with a hard jaw and lips you could lose yourself in.

"My Lady?"

There were shadows under the perfect's man's mysterious eyes, casting them into even deeper darkness. His hair, tousled and wet from the autumn gale outside, gave him just enough wildness to hint at the raw masculinity under the polished surface.

"My Lady, are you feeling quite well? You look a little cross-eyed."

It should have been impossible for any man who wasn't a Greek god, an incubus, a vampire or some other supernatural force with special mojo geared specifically towards the seduction of poor, helpless females to look that pale and perfect. But he did it. He did it with ease. His untamed hair and the light stubble on his cheek were the only hints that he might be in fact human. And let me tell you—they did not detract from his looks. Not at all. He was... he was just...

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God...

"I'm sorry it took me so long to arrive, your Ladyship, but—"

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God...

Was "ohmyGod" actually a legitimate adjective? Well, if it wasn't, it bloody well ought to be! His eyes... his perfect face... those lips of his...

Wait a minute, were they moving?

Damn! He was saying something!

"... so you will have to excuse my appearance, your ladyship." Running a hand over his stubbled jaw, he took a step towards me. "There is an epidemic in town, and I have been up since dawn, visiting children in the intensive care unit and making house calls to elderly patients." Those dark eyes of his swept over me, assessing me with one authoritative glance. Then he leaned over, and suddenly was very, very close.

Oh my God!

"May I begin the examination?"

Oh my God, oh my God... those eyes... so deep, so dark, so close...

"Your ladyship? Did you hear me? Are you all right?"

I opened my mouth—and closed it again.

"Excuse me?" He leaned forward a little more. "I didn't catch that. What did you say?"