The Doctor's Damsel (Men of the Capital Book 3) by Cara Nelson Page B

tummy cutout dress when you were dating Jasper, as I recall.”
    “I wasn’t meeting his parents that night,” Hannah corrected.
    “Fair enough. No tummy cutout. Are you sure about the leather shorts, though? They’re darling. Although I do have that jumpsuit I could pack. It’s dressy and polished-looking. I bought it when I thought I’d actually get to go onstage as understudy and would need a nice outfit for the press conference once everyone realized I was a natural star.”
    “You have an outfit for that?” Hannah asked, astounded.
    “I have an outfit for everything, but especially for being discovered as a natural star. Okay, I don’t have a dress for the Oscars or the Tonys, but I expect I’ll get a designer gown loaned to me then,” Becca continued.
    “Focus, Bec. You have to take pants and tops that cover you up. I know you work hard for that body, but you don’t want to give Opa the stroke that finishes him off by showing too much skin,” Hannah said.
“Good point. Natural star jumpsuit and probably the serious actress pencil skirt and blouse.”
    “Condoms. Remember the condoms.” Hannah reminded her and hung up.
     
    Oo00oO
     
    By the time Becca returned to Abe’s apartment, he was out of the shower, which she considered a wasted opportunity on her part.
    “I thought you bailed on me for a second,” he said, buttering a slice of toast and offering it to her.
    “No thanks. I’ll take a bite of chocolate in the name of solidarity, but you can count me out when it comes to Wonder Bread slathered with hydrogenated fats. You’re a doctor. You should know better.”
    Abe bit into the toast and rolled his eyes at her.
    “So what do you eat for breakfast? Some kind of protein shake?”
    “Berries. Egg white omelet with lots of veggies if I’m feeling creative.”
    “Sounds very...healthful,” he remarked, dropping his towel and heading for the bedroom to get dressed. Becca shot up off her chair and trailed after him, still not accustomed to seeing him in the altogether. He was worth following, she decided, just for the view.
    Once they were on the plane, which was smaller than she’d imagined, Becca kept his spirits up with jokes about the mile-high club and repeated demands for assurance that he was, in fact, allowed to use this jet whenever he wanted. He raised the armrest between them and put his arm around her, pulling her against him. His embrace felt more like the plea for an anchor than any hint of desire, so she snuggled in his arms and fell asleep.
     
    When she woke up, they were touching down in Germany. It was foggy and at least twenty degrees colder than home, but there was the crashing sound of the sea and the stark beauty of a coming storm. Disoriented from sleeping in the middle of the day and the long flight, Becca shouldered her duffel bag and stumbled to the waiting car. Abe thanked the pilot and joined her.
    “Were you speaking German to him? You speak German?”
    “That’s two questions. Yes, I speak German, and no, I was speaking Dutch to the pilot.”
    “How many languages do you speak? I only speak menu Italian.” She sighed.
    “English, German, enough Dutch and French to get around. After med school I feel like I should be able to claim Latin, but I only know textbook physiological terms, so it doesn’t really count.”
    Becca looked at the beautiful scenery as they left the airfield and made their way into the city. Abe gripped her hand tighter than was strictly necessary on the ride to their hotel.
    Abe accomplished their check in at a cosmopolitan high-rise hotel while Becca gawked openly at the shining marble lobby, the high, elaborate floral arrangements. A uniformed employee offered her a goblet of water with a slice of strawberry in it. Their room was lovely and posh. Almost before the door was closed behind them, Becca was shucking off her wrinkled traveling clothes and donning a huge white robe from the closet. Beaming at Abe, she stopped the words on