I roll my stiff neck, my heartbeat picking up speed.
“I…”
Poppy stares down at me, gripping the edge of the desk tight. Her body has curled forward, bowing toward mine, like she’s willing me to believe her. She’svibratingwith how badly she wants it.
And fuck, every instinct in my caveman brain is screaming at me to please her. To satisfy her every whim. Pathetic.
“I need to look into this.”
Just like that, the spell is broken. My patient slumps against the desk, the hope fading from her eyes, and when she drags herself back around to her own chair—Imissher. So messed up.
“Fine.” That dark ponytail shifts as she turns to stare out of the window. “Let’s get this over with. Ask me about my breakfast, Dr Whitaker.”
I clear my throat… but for once, the questions won’t come.
She’s got me. I’m rattled.