Page 2 of Collars & Kittens
When he looks up from the chart and smiles in greeting, my mind goes blank and my body ignites with a scorching heat. The room fills with a woodsy scent from his cologne, and his eyes are a piercing sapphire that makes me feel like he can see down into the depths of my soul. I’ve never had this immediate of a visceral reaction to someone. My mouth goes dry as I shift my weight to my other foot nervously.
A flicker of amusement crosses his face, and my cheeks blaze with embarrassment and desire. Oh fuck, he knows he’s having an effect on me. This just got awkward.
His voice is soothing and deep. “I’m Dr. Harrington. I hear you’ve got a sick kitty.”
Right. Agnes. I’m here for my cat, not to ogle the dreamboat veterinarian. I try to respond calmly, as if meeting an insanely attractive man who stirs up unexpected desires is totally natural.
“Hi, Dr. Harrington. Yes, her name is Agnes.”
Dr. Harrington gives me a warm smile, and I swear it’s like he has an energy that envelops me, searing every brain cell I own and making it difficult to think straight.
“What seems to be the problem today?”
I giggle nervously, cursing myself for acting like a smitten schoolgirl. “Oh, um, her name is Olivia, and she’s been lethargic the last two days, and this morning, she didn’t eat.”
“Olivia?” He raises an eyebrow, and his eyes twinkle. “Or is her name Agnes?”
My mouth pops open and then closes and then opens again, but nothing comes out. All the blood rushes to my face, which is now probably beet red. Shit. Why is he affecting me like this? I’ve encountered countless attractive men before, so why can’t I keep it together long enough for my cat to receive treatment from this drop-dead gorgeous veterinarian? My mind scrambles for a response, but all I can do is stare at him, completely rattled.
I finally find my words again. “She’s Agnes.I’mOlivia.”
I glance over at Agnes, hoping the vet doesn’t ask me to say anything else, because at the rate I’m going, I’ll respond with something mortifying. Thankfully, Dr. Harrington chuckles, saving me from making a bigger fool out of myself.
“Poor kitty,” he murmurs. “I’ll take a look at her and see if I can get this sweet girl feeling better.”
I watch as he unlatches the top of the carrier and gently pulls her out onto the table. She doesn’t fight him—which is rare for her with strangers. She’s usually afraid of anyone but me. My opinion of the doctor increases. I have complete faith that Agnes wouldn’t trust a vet who was anything less than kind and competent.
Dr. Harrington spends several minutes checking her out, talking quietly and petting her. “Agnes, sweetheart, you’re going to be fine.”
He’s talking to Agnes, but my brain hears his words as though he said them to me. The world is suddenly in slow motion, and all the stress melts from my body as his voice soothes me. Everything will be okay. He’ll make her better.
While he’s checking Agnes’s ears, he asks conversationally, “So, what made you pick the name Agnes?”
I’m momentarily flustered by the question, my brain still addled by his presence, but I manage to respond. “Oh, she’s from a shelter, and that was the name on her paperwork. I didn’t want her to have to learn a new name, along with adjusting to a new life, so I kept it.”
Ben always thought my reasoning was stupidly sentimental, but I swear Agnes knows her name. I wasn’t going to take that small bit of familiarity from her after she was abandoned. That would’ve been cruel.
While Dr. Harrington stays focused on examining Agnes, I’m able to openly admire him. He’s got large, capable hands—with no wedding ring—and he’s being so gentle. Her purr is loud in the tiny room, as if she’s enjoying the attention. Yeah, I’d probably love those hands massaging me, too. I bet he could make me purr.
Fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking this way. Isn’t it wrong to objectify someone sexually, no matter how attractive they are? And he’s way tooold for me anyway. I need to get my mind out of the gutter and remember why I’m here.
When he finishes and stares at me expectantly, I realize he must have asked a question while I was daydreaming about those talented hands roaming my body. Whoops.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
He doesn’t answer for a moment, and the intensity of his blue eyes pulls at something deep in my core. Our gazes lock, and I can feel my entire body responding to him again as my heart races and my skin tingles. It’s pretty inconvenient to be lusting after my cat’s vet, but there’s something about him that stirs up desires I haven’t felt in months—probably me and every other hot-blooded woman in this town. I swear the air is charged with sexual energy, but it’s probably wishful thinking. It’s been way too long since I’ve had sex. I make a mental note to dig out my sex toys as soon as I get home.
After I broke up with Ben, it took me a couple of months to figure out what I was doing with my life, and I haven’t been interested in playing with my sex toys. Hell, Ben was my first and only lover, and Dr. Harrington is the first guy I’ve been attracted to since becoming single. I’m not used to this feeling. My libido is coming out of hibernation, but did it have to be today?
I need to pull myself together. I’m acting like a romance novel character making eyes at the sexy small-town veterinarian—well, with my kinky self as the protagonist, it would have to be an erotica…but that’s not the point. He’s not going to bend me over this exam table, no matter how much I wish he would. Those things don’t happen outside of books.
After a pause that feels endless, he gives Agnes a gentle scratch behind her ears and repeats himself in that deep voice. “She’s a little dehydrated, which would make her not feel great, so I’d like to give her some fluids under the skin. I can also do some blood work to rule out any other issues.”
I let out a sigh of relief, grateful he knows what he’s doing. “Okay. That sounds good.”
He nods, all business again. “I’ll just step out for a few minutes with Anges and fix her right up.”
After he leaves with Agnes, I sink back into the chair, feeling flushed. Grabbing a magazine with horses on the cover, I fan myself with it. I need to pull it together before he returns. I’m sure he’s got women falling at his feet all the time. A mature, successful man like him probably has a line of eager dates. And here I am, a mess over a simple vet visit.
