Roxanne

By Tanya Goodwin

In this comedic spin off of Cyrano de Bergerac’s passion for Roxanne, pathologist, Dr. Cyril West, has a big problem in his romantic quest for his partner, Dr. Roxanne Craig; his big nose! At least that’s what Cyril thinks. As Valentine’s Day approaches, Cyril has mustered up the courage to ask Roxanne for a date. About to declare his feelings for her, Cyril’s intentions are wrecked when Roxanne’s best friend sets her up with hunky cardiologist, Dr. Christian Manly.

To wrest Roxanne from Christian’s arms, Cyril gives the floundering cardiologist mischievous dating advice in hopes of derailing Christian’s and Roxanne’s future relationship. However, when Roxanne delights in her outings with Christian, Cyril’s devious plans are foiled.

In his final attempt to compete in a world where looks count, and to win the heart of Roxanne, Cyril finally decides to have that nose job he has always dreamed of.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tanya Goodwin
• Release date: May 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781626202627

Tanya Goodwin

Tanya Goodwin writes romantic suspense with a twist of medicine, medical romance, and mystery. Her experiences as a physician are reflected in her characters and in her stories. Tanya is a graduate of the University of Miami School of Medicine and completed her specialty training as an obstetrician and gynecologist in Tampa, Florida. A former New Yorker, she now resides in St. Petersburg, Fl. Her present life as a traveling doctor allows her to switch from stethoscope to keyboard. Tanya is a member of Romance Writers of America, Mystery Writers of America, and Sisters in Crime.

Book preview

Roxanne

By Tanya Goodwin

Roxanne is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is coincidental.

All rights reserved.

Copyrighted © 2013 by Tanya Goodwin

Smashwords Edition

Cover by Rae Monet, Inc. Design

Paperback version ISBN: 9781626202627

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

About the Author

Other Books by Tanya Goodwin

Chapter One

Dr. Cyril West bent his head over his microscope. Damn! It happened again. His nose smacked the microscope before his eyes could focus through the lenses. He rubbed his impressive proboscis, the one he’d seriously considered altering. Cyril glanced at the gift-wrapped box of gourmet chocolates on his desk. The confectionary boutique had followed his instructions to the letter. The red velvet bow sat perfectly in the center of the box, its tapered ends cascading over the edges of the gold foil wrap. Roxanne Craig, his pathology partner and the woman he had fantasized about for the last two years, was about to walk through that lab door any second. It was over between her and Kevin, Chicago Medical Center’s Pediatrician of the Year, and cheater. Now was his chance. Valentine’s Day was Friday. He had to ask her out today, because women like Roxanne never stayed unattached for long.

Cyril had hinted to Roxanne about Kevin’s past. However, Roxanne was not only blinded by Kevin’s politically backed award, but also by his rock hard abs and chiseled features. She’d not picked up on his warnings. He should have come right out and said it. But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Painfully, Roxanne had to find out about Kevin on her own. Now that her eyes were wide open, maybe she’d venture past their collegiality, past his nose, and see him for a man who’d swear his loyalty to her.

Women! He thought. They say that personality is the most important factor when it comes to men. He knew better. What they all really wanted was the tall, dark, handsome guy equipped with the great personality. But he was tall, with dark brown hair, and his face was pleasant, he reassured himself; that is if his nose didn’t distract from it. He’d get rid of that banana! Of course he had threatened that every day of his life.

Cyril tapped the box of chocolates. The corners of his eyes crinkled upward, recalling how much Roxanne adored raspberry filled chocolate truffles. Last Valentine’s Day, Kevin had haphazardly tossed a box of stale dime store caramel nougats on Roxanne’s desk, the kind that you bite into and then slip back into the box, carefully camouflaging the tooth marks. Clearly it was a last minute token. But sweet Roxanne had kissed him anyway, and later bought three raspberry filled truffles during her lunch break, secretly indulging in her chocolate splurge. Cyril had watched Roxanne devour her guilty pleasure that day out the corner of his eye, pretending to have been busy viewing glass sides beneath his microscope. She had licked the gooey filling from her lower lip, savoring every little drop.

The door to the pathology lab buzzed open, ripping Cyril from his daydream and plucking him into reality the minute Roxanne Craig stepped inside their shared subterranean space in Chicago Medical Center’s Department of Pathology. Roxanne slid off her coat and flipped off her red knitted hat, shaking the snowflakes from it before hanging both on the wall hook next to Cyril’s winter gear. She fluffed her hair. Strands of her shoulder length bob clung to her fingers with stubborn static. Roxanne flicked away her crackling hair only to have it float back up.

Ugh! Winter!

Winter wasn’t so bad. In warmer weather, he and Roxanne would eat lunch together on the hospital’s outdoor patio, the sun bronzing her shoulders and its rays glistening in her hair. But the best part of Chicago’s cold left her cheeks a beautiful rose. That, and the way she filled out that fuzzy pink sweater, and the way her gray skirt was anything but dull as it draped over her hips, the hem emphasizing her perfect curvy calves.

Hi, Cyril. How was your weekend? Roxanne asked with a cheery smile.

Quiet. No calls, He answered quickly.

He inched his fingers toward the box on his desk, debating to the last few seconds whether to present her with the secret chocolates. His stomach tightened as she approached her desk, and his heart beat in tandem with the clip clop of her high-heels; heels that were low enough to be professional, but just the right height to showcase her legs. He decided on keeping his secret longer. He’d wait until the end of the day. That way if Roxanne accepted the chocolates out of kindness, or worse yet pity, then they wouldn’t have to awkwardly dance around the surprise gone awry. Cyril yanked open his desk drawer. It squeaked off key. He quickly dropped the gift-wrapped box of chocolates inside of it. The draw stuttered as he slowly pushed it almost closed.

Roxanne jerked her head up. What was that?

Cyril grasped for an excuse. Darn this old desk! I was just getting a pen out.

Roxanne sat and pulled her seat to her desk. Yeah, these desks are ancient. She pointed her finger at Cyril and teased, We’ll have to ask the Chief of Pathology for some new ones. You know, ones crafted in this century.

Cyril swung his chair toward Roxanne and rubbed his chin, a mischievous grin on his face. As Chief of Pathology, I’ll be sure to make a note to myself. After all, who can work under these conditions?

Roxanne laughed. We better get to work. Then she grabbed her overstuffed purse. But before we do, I have something for you.

What a coincidence? He had something for her, too.

She rummaged through her bag. The soup has to be in here somewhere, she muttered.

Cyril arched his brows. You have soup in your purse?

Roxanne winked. I do.

God, he loved when she did that.

A few seconds later she yanked out a can of soup, and plunked it on her desk. Roxanne hummed and dug back into her purse, whipping out another can. She stamped a can of chicken noodle soup on Cyril’s desk. Lunch, Roxanne announced. Hot soup on a cold February day, just in case we don’t get to go out.

She leaned over to place her purse into her desk drawer, a drawer that abutted Cyril’s drawer, the same drawer that held the box of chocolates, and the one that was precariously ajar. Cyril shoved his knee into the handle of his drawer, and winced as he shut it.

Let’s get going so that we can finish up before lunch.

Cyril quietly breathed a sigh of relief. He’d successfully hidden the box. Yes, that’s certainly incentive enough. He meant sharing time with Roxanne. The soup was a distant second.

Roxanne grabbed a set of glass sides from Friday’s surgical cases and eased one under her microscope. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she peered through the lenses.

Cyril darted his eyes over to Roxanne. He shifted in his chair. Oh, those fleshy little earlobes of hers. He ached to brush the tips of his fingers across them.

Roxanne lifted her head and leaned back in her chair. Something wrong?

Heat rose to Cyril’s face. The embarassing warmth dipped all the way down to the tip of his nose. Nope. Just looking at this interesting case. He dodged his head back to his work. Unfortunately, there was no glass slide under his microscope. Will she notice? Now what?

Cyril slowly slid his fingers across his desk while peering under his microscope, pretending like hell to be busy. Ah, thank God! He felt the beveled edges of a glass slide. He picked it up and gingerly placed it onto scope’s stage. Mission, safely accomplished! He let out a long exhale. The cushion of Roxanne’s chair softly crunched. Cyril, his eyes fixed to the lenses, could tell she was getting up.

Must be a fantastic slide, she said.

Her breath grew closer, minty with a shade of coffee. She leaned over him. Her slender fingers pressed gently into his shoulder. The pulse in Cyril’s neck slammed against the collar of his shirt. He tugged on his necktie.

Oh, let me see, Roxanne begged.

He hadn’t paid attention to what was under his microscope. Heck, it better be fascinating.

Cyril crossed his ankles and focused through the lenses, his eyes darting about the lace of magenta tissue fixed to the random glass slide.

He tilted his head away and let Roxanne peek into his microscope. Cyril inhaled, lost in her floral-scented shampoo.

Roxanne pulled away from the microscope. Oh lucky guy. A benign lymph node.

Their gazes collided. Her eyes softened.

I love a happy ending, don’t you? She asked, punctuating her query with a smile.

Cyril nodded with a dreamy grin on his face. Absolutely.

He was feeling just as lucky.

Cyril glanced at the can of chicken noodle soup on his desk. God, he couldn’t wait for noon! And just now Roxanne had just leaned over him, purposely he happily interpreted, her fairy-like feminine touch upon his shoulder. Cyril gripped his desk drawer handle. His confidence took flight. He’d strike now. Why not? They’d share the raspberry truffles for dessert. Chicken noodle and chocolate. Yeah, that would work. Spontaneous! Unpredictable! What could be more romantic? Then he’d ask her out for Valentine’s Day. He’d have time enough before then to think of a grander surprise.

Roxanne turned and sat at her desk. She drummed her fingers on the top while gazing at Cyril. His heart galloped along with her beat.

Roxanne flipped her hair behind one ear. So, what are your plans for Valentine’s Day?

Aha, now was the moment. He raised his eyebrows just a hint, enough to look interested, but not shocked. Go for it! As a matter of fact…

Cyril tugged open the drawer. He had just laid his hand upon Roxanne’s gift when Gracie Andrews, a cardiologist, and Roxanne’s best friend, burst through the lab door.

Shit, Cyril whispered. He whipped his hand out of the drawer and eased it along its squealing tracks, praying it wouldn’t tell on him. The last thing he wanted was for Gracie to discover his secret and make some snide comment about the box of chocolates. She’d embarrass him in front of Roxanne. He’d known Gracie since medical school. She was a snob then, and still was.

Gracie clattered across the tiled floor in her red spiked high heels. Her Hollywood blonde hair bounced against her white starched lab coat. All she had to do was to smile and toss her hair to give any of her male patients a stress test they’d long remember. Gracie plopped her behind onto the corner of Roxanne’s desk, leaned back on her arms, and crossed her legs. Gracie waggled her perfectly shaped brows at Cyril.

Hey, Cyril!

Hello Gracie, he muttered.

Gracie twisted her body toward Roxanne. "So what’s happening in the lab-bore- atory?"

"Actually, we’re anything but bored here," Roxanne replied.

That’s for sure, Cyril thought. It was never boring, with Roxanne next to him. But five o’clock always snatched her away from him. He prayed that would soon change, at least a few times a