Chapter 17
I might be pushing sixty, but my doctor always tells me I have the body of someone at least twenty-five years younger. I know she exaggerates—she’s the flirty, overly complimentary type, which is why she’s been my doctor for so long—but Dr. Fererra’s confidence boosting words mean I never have any qualms about undressing in front of someone else. Although, truth be told, apart from medical examinations, of which I’ve had enough to, literally, last me a lifetime, it’s not a very frequent occurrence in my life.
“Why the rush?” Leila asks, after she’s given my bedroom a once-over. I can’t wait for her to rake her gaze over me like that.
She’s right, of course. My self-imposed number of days to live has nothing to do with tonight. In fact, I’d better take my time to enjoy this.
