PLAYBOY PRINCESS (gxg) ✓

15. Paris Young

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                PARIS DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO FEEL.

                Furious was a start.

                Last night—up until the clock struck twelve—Paris had debated actually going.

                There was probably a rule against ice skating in the middle of the night with one of her patients. There was probably another rule against going out on that frozen lake in the middle of winter. 

                And there was definitely a rule against falling in love with one of her patients.

                Paris had waited outside.

                After hours of thinking it over—and arguing with Alec—she had gathered up every ounce of courage she had, and she had gone outside.

               The moonlight had gilded the snow in silvery light. 

               The sky had shone as black as wet ink against paper.

               Bundled against the cold, Paris had shivered. Leaning back against the glass wall. Alone as the clock ticked to midnight.

               She had waited.

               But Rory had never shown up.

               Paris didn't know how long she had waited there, looking out at the glittering lake. But her fingertips were blue and her hair was crusted in snow by the time she went back inside.

               Rory hadn't shown up. 

               She had asked her out on a date . . . or whatever that had been . . . and she hadn't shown up. 

               Paris should have felt angry. Righteous.

               But last night, she had only been tired and so, so cold.

               Falling into bed, dreaming—it had been a mercy. Even if it had only delayed the inevitable, because now Paris was awake.

               And she was mad. 

              What had Rory been thinking? Had it all just been an elaborate set-up? 

              Maybe she had been trying to see if Paris would do it. If she would go outside. If she would wait there, in the freezing cold, for a girl who wouldn't even show up.

             Maybe she wanted to see if Paris was still that same, stupid girl who had said, I love you. 

             And Paris had gone. She had waited.

             Maybe she still was that stupid girl.

             Why had she thought this time would be different?

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             THE ON-CALL ROOM WAS CROWDED with other doctors and surgeons and nurses who had decided to stay for the next seventy-two hours during the power outage. As Paris shrugged on her white coat, she caught sight of Alec sauntering down the corridor and talking to another nurse.

            When he saw her, he swung her by the arm.

            "Paris," he said. "I have delicious news."