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Chapter One

Virginia Templeton arrived at her psychiatrist’s office, ten minutes late as usual. She was always late, as she rather enjoyed a grand entrance. Virginia was beautiful and knew it, tall and graceful, with hips tapering into long, slender legs. A body to die for, as they say. All heads turned when Virginia entered a room; women wanted to be her, and men just wanted her.

She was just as sexy dressed as she was undressed, as she absolutely loved fashion. Her favorite expression was “shop until you drop,” and she did just that. Virginia loved expensive clothes and shoes—oh, how she loved shoes—and accessorized every outfit. She didn’t look at price tags and, luckily, she didn’t need to.

Virginia’s image didn’t allow her to be all smiles or say nice things, as she preferred to play the misunderstood diva and use her good looks for favors. People didn’t cross the line with Virginia often and, when they did, her wrath was like nobody else’s.

Nicholas Waters, her psychiatrist, sat behind his desk, waiting for Virginia to make the first move. Sometimes she didn’t speak during her sessions, instead just walking back and forth, angered that she was wasting her time in sessions that she loathed. The only reason she had even agreed to see a doctor was because her deceitful husband made that a provision in their ongoing divorce proceedings. She wanted every last dime she felt she had earned in their ten-year marriage. She had smiled when she had to, and undressed when her husband wanted her. A small price to pay for getting anything and everything she wanted.

Virginia thought that Nicholas wasn’t paying attention to her, which really pissed her off. Even though he was just her psychiatrist, it was still important to her that he pay attention. Little did Virginia know that Nicholas couldn’t concentrate on anything else when she was near him.

Nicholas Waters was bound by an ethical code to avoid involving himself with his patients. But in his mind, they were just fantasies. Desiring a woman and actually acting upon his desire were two different things, and his fantasies usually went away after a visit or two. Virginia Templeton was a different case. He knew it, she knew it, and so did anyone who had ever come in contact with her.

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