“This is a doctor’s surgery? I’m not sick.”
“This is how they do it, the corrective treatment,” the bailiff murmured to her. “It’s all medical.”
“It’s medical? What are they going to do? Take out parts of my brain?”
“You wish,” the bailiff smirked. Sophie shot him an annoyed look. They really did seem to be enjoying her innocence on the subject.
They were not being terribly professional. They were acting more like boys finding themselves unexpectedly in the presence of their crush. Sophie half expected one of them to try to pull her hair. This was why she was still a virgin. Watching strong men turn into silly puppies wasn’t precisely a turn-on.
A moment or two later, the door opened and Sophie found herself looking into the face of an older man who had nothing silly or puppyish about him. Deep blue eyes locked on her the moment he walked in, an intelligent gaze set in a strong masculine face. His dark hair was cut close to his head, graying slightly at the temples and above his ears. His jaw was square and clinically clean shaven, his shoulders broad underneath a white coat. He looked at her with an intensity which caught her off guard. Sophie was used to being looked at with adoration, with judgment, with excitement, with yearning, but very rarely with curiosity and pure interest. It was as though she was being looked at for the first time, by someone who wanted to see her deeply. Keep reading…