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The Doctor’s Second Love

“Good day, ma’am.” He greeted while examining my injured leg. “And here goes someone who doesn’t wear stilettos the right way.” I narrowed my eyes in response to his words, his voice was such a fine one, the sort that would make a woman moan if it meets her ears in night whispers. Alessandro Greco, a dedicated Italian doctor temporarily transferred to Ivory Coast, crosses paths with Sita Kouassi, an enigmatic African politician and philanthropist harbouring a clandestine life as a spy. Drawn together by circumstance, their initial encounter blossoms into a passionate affair amidst the complexities of love and duty. However, as secrets unravel and betrayals surface, their relationship is put to the ultimate test. Can their love endure the shadows of deception and the dangers lurking in the mist, or will the high road they traverse tear them apart? This captivating tale delves into the intricacies of romance, intrigue, and the indomitable power of love in the heart of modern-day Africa.

Mackins · perkotaan
Peringkat tidak cukup
53 Chs

White Doctor

"We will talk later, honorable." I rose to my feet, "I have something I must attend to at this moment."

He scuffed and rose to his feet, then, he strutted towards me. "You know what you will gain if you work hand in hand with us. Money, more connections, great licenses, and mostly..."

"I must leave already, honorable." I bowed a little. "Thanks for the hospitality."

I turned away from him and hurried for the door, while he watched me leave like I was startled by the sound of his voice.

Well, I had a pair of silhouettes on, and I was being careful as I strutted off from the hall, but that was until I found my way out of his residence. My driver was waiting in the car, so I did the good of hurrying towards the car, and that was how the devil came.

Not a fan of silhouettes, but I chose the pair I had on because I wanted to look somewhat different from the usual me that does nothing else but flat shoes.

"Ma'am." My driver called from the car.

"Are you hurt?"

I was on the floor, keeping myself from screaming. The stilettoes had somehow managed to shift alongside the joint of my ankle. That was dead painful.

"Come on, hurry, I'm seriously hurt, can't you see it?"

***

"What happened to her?" the nurse who approached us as my driver helped me into the hospital hall asked. "Was she hit by something?"

"Dislocation, I guess." Said my driver.

The nurse led us to a room not far from the entrance of the hall and offered me a bed. She helped me lay on the bed, then, she took off without going further with questions and words.

"I guess she knew you." Said my driver, Benito. "She offered you this special space."

I smiled. That could be the good thing about being a famous and influential person. Everyone in Abidjan wants to be in my good books, but I still don't like the room. I'd rather have my doctor take care of me than lodge in the best room in a public hospital in Abidjan.

"Are they getting me a doctor or would it take long before they do what they ought to do?" I asked impatiently.

First, I need the stilettoes to be taken off my foot by a doctor or one of those nurses because I don't trust my driver to be careful enough to get the red stilettos out without causing more trouble.

"The nurse wouldn't like to lose her job either." My driver said that quietly and casually as though it was good to take a few people more seriously than you do with the masses.

I wanted to shun him, but as though he was right, three nurses entered the room with a white doctor. My eyes met the tag on his chest, Doctor Alessandro Grecco, special orthopedist.

For dear heaven's sake, I was agitated, but my rage sank into my guts and left as fart the very moment my eyes crept up his face.

Yes, we shouldn't have white men milling around here doing what our doctors should do, but this one, he is not just a white man, he is handsome.

"Good day, ma'am." He greeted me while examining my injured leg. "And here goes someone who doesn't wear stilettoes the right way."

I narrowed my eyes in response to his words, his voice was such a fine one, the sort that would make a woman moan if it met her ears in night whispers.

"Don't worry." He said the nurse who wanted to help take off my silhouettes. "I'll take care of the affected leg."

He looked up at me and broke his face with a weak smile. That could be his way of being nice to patients, but to be honest, that was the sweetest gesture I've had so far.

I knew that the moment my eyes met his brown eyes-those brown balls trapped in his skull, and his mustache.

Men here in Abidjan barely leave such mustaches and goatees. I felt the urge to reach out to him and caress his mustache, but just then, a sharp pain tossed me back to reality.

"Gosh!" I screamed and covered my mouth with both hands, then I laughed. I laughed at the fact that I was so lost in silly thoughts that I had no idea his hands were already at work on my foot, or, was that a trance, or his magic way of dealing with his patients?

"You will be alright." Came his soft voice. He knows the worth of human life, I guess. "Just a little more twist and it will be over."

I waited for the twist but none came. He was already holding my foot together with a white bandage, the very same way the local bone fixers in my childhood neighborhood do.

"Okay, we are good to go." He freed my leg and turned to one of the nurses. I didn't hear what he told her because I was rather busy admiring his skin tone, his height, and that black hair of his.

"I guess your injury wasn't a big deal, ma'am." My driver whispered right next to me. I had long forgotten he was in the room, if I had, I could have played the hard woman I always play when I'm with some of my domestic aids, including him.

"Yes," I whispered back, in a hush.

"Um, I forgot to introduce..."

"Doctor Alessandro Grecco, a special orthopedist." I couldn't wait for him to finish. "It's on your tag."

"Very well." He smiled. "Your injury is not that bad, so, I'm pretty sure you can go ahead with your daily biddings."

That was so kind of him. Other doctors would let you occupy the bed for a few days even if you claim to be fine, but Alessandro; he is far too different.

"Are you bored of having my leg fixed?" I asked. I can't scurry off while I have him to admire in this big hospital. I've never seen a doctor as interesting as he is.

He raised his shoulders and came close to me. I watched him hold out his hand, with a warm smile on his handsome face, but this time, my eyes made for his body instead of just his hand and face.

The white doctor's cloak couldn't let me see much, but at least, he doesn't have a pot belly.

"Come on." He urged me on and I took his hand in mine. Soft palms and strong fingers. "You don't have to sit back here. The bed would be nice if someone with something worse than minor dislocation is nestled on it."

That was meant to sound harsh, but what more can the words of a man you are attracted to sound like in your ears? He was being honest, but I wasn't willing to leave just like that.

"Ma'am." My driver shook my arm. "You are holding him longer than a handshake should go."

I freed the doctor's hand, and as though he knew he had charmed me, he smiled and left with his retinue of nurses, while my eyes remained glued on him.

"Ma'am."

"Shut up.