“Lucky guess. You’d be surprised how many guys like it like that.”
“Oh?” I quirked an eyebrow. “You have some experience in this arena?”
“One time, a patient asked me to spank him. It was his dying wish.”
“Get out! Did you do it?”
“Sorry, can’t tell you. Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that.”
“That’s bullshit,” I scoffed, then leaned in, taking the last swig of my drink. “I think you’re projecting.”
“How do you figure?”
“It’s psychology 101. Whatever people say casually to make fun of other people, that’s whattheyreally want. So you want to be tied up and rough-housed.”
Her cheeks went red, and I had my answer. “You don’t even know my first name.”
“Well, help me out then, Doctor Red…”Hot.
“I kind of like it like this.”
“Then don’t complain. Where are you from, anyway?”
“Spain. You?”
“Ohio. Wow! Spain! I thought I detected a slight Spanish accent. Only when you say ‘Vidal,’ though.”
“It comes out a little thicker when I drink. Actually, it’s not a Spanish accent, it’s a Catalan accent.”
“What’s Catalan?”
“It’s the language of Catalonia. It used to be its own country until Spain was ‘unified.’”
My heart began to beat louder and a realization crossed me. I could talk to this girl all night. Something about her put me at ease in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. With other women, they wanted me, sure. But ninety percent of them couldn’t see past my celebrity-dom, and, yes, my extremely large bank account.
Or maybe they were thinking about something else I had that was large. Who knew?
But in this moment, with Doctor Vidal, I felt like I was talking to an old friend who I had known—maybe in another life.
Just then, the casino music changed from David Bowie to a salsa song. I got up out of my chair and extended my arm toward her.
“May I have this dance?”
“Um, right here? We’re in the middle of a restaurant.”
I looked around. It was mostly empty. I shrugged my shoulders. “What’s your point, Doctor? You never salsa danced somewhere that wasn’t an official dance floor before?”
“No, it’s just . . .”
Her protests faded away as she took my hand and we started dancing toVivir Mi Vidaby Marc Anthony.
My hand felt amazing pressed on the small of her back as I led her.
“Where’d you learn to salsa?” she asked between breaths. “Hockey players aren’t supposed to know how to dance.”
I pulled her into my body, and I loved how I could feel the heat of her skin radiating underneath her dress. She pressed into me, and I confirmed. No bra.
“I dated a salsa instructor for a little while,” I said when I brought her in for a spin.
