Christy was washing up at the utility sink, rinsing out her brushes when she was positive she heard a car. Anthony told her he wouldn't be home before dark. Maybe he'd finished up early. She shut off the faucet and quickly made her way to the front of the house. She peeked through the open doorway of Anthony's office and saw through his huge window that an expensive sports car was pulling into the driveway. She couldn't see the driver and was getting ready to go lock herself in the hidden room when the car made its way around the circular drive, giving her a view of the license plate. It was a personalized one that read LADYDOC.

She knew she was supposed to go to the hidden room, but her curiosity got the best of her. Anthony had once mentioned the woman who not only provided aid to his men at the camp, but had sewn him up after he was stabbed. She wanted to see what the surgeon looked like. She wasn't sure what she expected, but she knew it wasn't the tall, beautiful creature that exited from the car. She moved with a gracefulness that exuded confidence, intelligence and raw sexuality. Christy's insides twisted.

She watched the woman pass the office window and knew she would be walking up to the front door. She closed her eyes and hoped that she didn't have her own key. If she did, she would know that this woman was more than just the doctor Anthony's had on call.

A soft knock broke through her thoughts. The doctor didn't have a key. Christy smiled.

Veronique stood at Anthony's front door and mentally rehearsed all the scenarios that she could think of. She had to emotionally prepare herself for a confrontation with him and possibly even the woman that her patient, Benjamin Diamond, had hinted was living here. She'd noticed a Volkswagen when she pulled in, but figured it belonged to Anthony's cleaning lady. She'd never met the woman but knew she was older. Was it possible Mr. Diamond had mistaken rumors about a woman who was supposedly living with Anthony for the cleaning lady who obviously spent time in Anthony's home? Of course he has, she thought. Anthony Bear would never allow a woman to share his home. Never.

She had to mask her surprise when a young, petite, and extremely attractive blonde opened the door and smiled kindly at her. Veronique had never taken an acting class in her life but knew she'd have to pretend to play the part of concerned doctor and friend to be believable and not have the blonde slam the door in her face.

"Hi," she said, giving Christy a warm smile. "I'm Dr. Veronique Dubois." She held out her hand, and Christy shook it. "Is Anthony here?"

Christy knew she wasn't supposed to answer the door, but couldn't see the threat in letting a female doctor know she was there alone. Doctors were in the lifesaving, not life taking business.

"Oh, I'm sorry. He's not," Christy told her. "Is there anything I can help you with?" she asked the smiling woman.

"Well, I guess so. First, I wanted to make sure he was still doing okay. I sewed him up a while back. Do you know if he's having any issues?" she asked. Her eyes showed real concern. Before Christy could reply she added, "I haven't made it out to the camp in a couple months, so I haven’t had the chance to ask him."

"Oh, I've not heard him complain, and I've seen the scar I think you're talking about. It looks fine." The admiration in Christy's voice was noticeable. "You're obviously good at what you do."

Veronique's optimism was instantly deflated. Somewhere deep inside she'd hoped that the young woman had replaced Anthony's older cleaning lady. But Veronique knew that a housekeeper would never have the opportunity to see Anthony's scar. Unless he showed it to her. This woman was Anthony's lover. She had to tamp down the storm that was brewing in her brain. With a dazzling smile, she added, "I'm so glad to hear that!"

Without allowing time for an awkward pause, she said, "I checked on him once or twice here and I realized that I may have left something."

Christy's eyes widened, but she didn't say anything.

"My grandfather gave me a stethoscope when I graduated from medical school. He was a doctor and it was his. I can't find it anywhere, and it occurred to me that I might have had it when I was out here doing a wellness check on Anthony. Have you run across it anywhere?"

Christy shook her head. "Um...no. But I also haven't been looking for it."

"Would it be possible for you to take a look now? Or perhaps let me look with you? Anthony may have found it and shoved it in a drawer," she told Christy, her beautiful green eyes hopeful.

Christy looked hesitant and Veronique could see the girl’s apprehension. I’ve overplayed my hand, Veronique thought. I have to reel this in and appear vulnerable, not overconfident.

“I could come back when he’s here,” she blurted out as she swiped her hair to the side. “Of course, this drive is so inconvenient.” Veronique bit her lip in an attempt to look unsure of herself and the situation. “Then again, I might not be able to. I have two surgeries scheduled for tomorrow and then I’m going out of town.” She was rambling, trying to give Christy the impression that she was exasperated. And it worked.

"It’s okay. Come in," Christy said, stepping aside. She caught a whiff of the attractive woman and recognized the scent. It was the same one her grandmother used to wear. A designer brand that was expensive to a fault. Christy was secretly relieved it wasn't the perfume she'd detected in Anthony's truck over three weeks ago.

Veronique chatted with Christy as she casually perused the house. She mentioned her upcoming wedding and how her grandparents would be visiting. She couldn't bear to tell them she'd lost her grandfather's stethoscope. After noticing the rock on Veronique's finger, any doubts Christy may have had about Anthony and the gorgeous doctor vanished.

Veronique caught Christy's glance at her hand and noticed relief in her eyes. Mustering up the strength to look sincere, she pasted on a phony smile and said, "I'm so happy to see that Anthony has someone serious in his life."

Christy didn't say anything as a blush crept up her neck.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Veronique apologized. "I assumed you live here with him. I saw the car out front and with him not being here and you answering the door..." Her words trailed off as she feigned embarrassment.

"It's okay," Christy told her. "You're right. I am living here with him."

Veronique broke into a wide grin. "Good! And hopefully, he'll make it official soon," she said, glancing at Christy's naked ring finger. "He needs to settle down."

Christy looked away shyly. "Well," she paused, not sure how much she should tell the woman. "He actually did ask me, but I haven't said yes." She couldn’t fathom why she would share such an intimate detail with a stranger. Then she remembered. This woman saved Anthony’s life. Dr. Dubois wasn’t the enemy.

This was a conversation Veronique no longer wanted to engage in. Her grin was so forced it pained her cheeks to keep smiling. She changed the subject. Nodding her head toward the hallway, she asked, “When I last checked on him he was confined to his bed. Do you mind if we look in there?" Her voice was sincere and held respect that Christy appreciated.

Christy smiled and motioned for her to follow. Once in the bedroom, Veronique motioned toward the nightstand and asked, "May I check in there while you look in drawers that he might consider more private? I doubt he'd want me going through them, and if my fiancé's nightstand is any indication of what guys keep close to the bed, it's probably full of useless junk."

"Sure," Christy said with a smile as she headed for Anthony's dresser. Christy knew there was nothing of importance in Anthony's nightstand. Even though she didn’t think the doctor was doing anything besides trying to find her stethoscope, Christy didn’t feel right letting her rifle through Anthony’s dresser.

Veronique opened the nightstand drawer and stopped herself from visibly stiffening. Her jaw clenched when she saw them. The last time she'd been in Anthony's bed she'd brought ten condoms with her. They'd used two and she remembered specifically leaving eight in the drawer. Eight condoms that were still inside his nightstand. An intense anger and hatred invaded and she could feel her blood coursing through her veins. If he was sleeping with this tramp, he wasn't using protection. Protection she knew he insisted on using with every woman he'd ever slept with. Veronique included.

She forced a smile and turned to look at Christy who was rummaging through his dresser drawers. Christy caught Veronique's reflection in the mirror.

"Nothing here. Can I do a quick check of the bathroom?" Veronique asked.

"I haven't found anything either," Christy said as she nodded.

Veronique headed for the bathroom and had to grit her teeth. If she'd had a ridiculous split-second thought that the condoms were still in the nightstand because he wasn't sleeping with the blonde Barbie doll they immediately evaporated. Three lacy bras were hanging over the glass shower door. She made speedy work of opening and shutting drawers so the blonde could hear her. She quickly returned to the bedroom.

"I don't want to bother you anymore..." She paused as if something occurred to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

"Christy," the young woman replied.

"I've inconvenienced you enough already, Christy."

"You haven't inconvenienced me," Christy answered as she followed Veronique out of the bedroom.

When she got to the front door, Veronique turned around and addressed Christy. "Thank you for your help. Please tell Anthony I came by to check on him and ask him about my stethoscope if you don't mind."

"I definitely will," Christy told her, her voice sincere.

She closed and locked the door behind the woman and returned to the utility sink to finish washing out her paint brushes.

It was all the lady doc could do not to peel out of Anthony's driveway. Her breathing was heavy as her pulse raced. She was beyond livid. More than once she'd had to tighten her fists at her sides to prevent herself from slapping Christy across the face. She'd fantasized about whipping out a scalpel and making mincemeat of her perfect complexion. Maybe even digging out her saucer-sized blue eyes and leaving them on Anthony's pillow.

She was grateful that she could use her skills as a trauma surgeon to keep her cool. She hadn't had a specific plan when she knocked on Anthony's door, and she was glad she hadn't shown her hand. She would find Anthony Bear and see what he had to say about Christy, who couldn't have been more than eighteen. She was just a girl. A girl who'd refused a marriage proposal from Anthony Bear. She pressed on the gas and headed for Native Touch Landscape and Design.