Not even this beautiful doctor who furrowed her brow so adorably at me.
“Mister, you need to lie back and rest.” Like a sentinel, she stood next to the bed and lifted her hands to urge me to lie back.
“No, thanks…” I leaned my head to the side, seeking out the laminated badge she wore. “Dr. Donovon.”
“It’s not a suggestion,” she replied primly, as if the fact that she was a doctor in the hospital would work as authority overme. “You’ve suffered significant blood loss. Failure to rest will threaten the strength of the stitches at the site of your injuries.”
Rushing to get up no longer seemed so smart. Not because she dictated that I take it easy, in that prim and proper tone of hers, but because she was the last thing I’d expected.
Soft, yet stubborn as she checked my lungs, pressing a cool stethoscope to my chest.
Unshaken, despite the murderous glare I gave her when she dared to defy my wishes.
And… mysterious, with a cool professionalism that taunted me to make her break, to ruffle her up a bit and see her not as clinical.
“Call it whatever you want,” I replied calmly, leaning back to peer at her. “But you are not the boss of me.”
She arched a thin brow, nonplussed as she continued to listen to my lungs. As she leaned over to press the round tab of the stethoscope to the other side of my chest, strands of her long, light-brown hair fell out of her bun. Tips of the silky strands tickled my skin, but it was her scent—clean and sweet like she’d never belong near the filth of my world—that stunned me.
“Not the boss of you?” she replied as she stood, pressing her fingertips around the stitches near my shoulder where she’d fixed me up. “I don’t know who you are to be able to determine that. I don’t know anything about you.”
I started to smile, intrigued by her admission of ignorance. Because if I let myself daydream about it, I could just so easily imagine that shewantedto know who I was.
“What I am certain of,” she continued in that crisp, somehow polite, yet no-nonsense British tone, “is that you are my patient. In my hospital. And that decrees Iamin charge at the moment. Whether you like it or not.”
A full-on grin lifted my lips now. Picturing this good girl, this innocent, as a figure of authority was laughable. She might speak like she was in charge, but she was nothing to me. She didn’t have the bold power that I did to truly expect others to heed her demands or wishes.
It was almost… cute. Adorable that she could dare to tell me what to do.
“We can agree to disagree,” I said instead of bluntly telling her to back the fuck off and get out of my way. As I sat up, she furrowed her brow and pressed her plump pink lips together. With her fair skin and high cheekbones, she tempted me to lie back down and have her lean over me again. This closeness was warping my thoughts. Her refusal to automatically bow to me was different.
“I won’t be agreeing or disagreeing with you about anything, Mister…” She tilted her head to the side. “Mister…?”
I stared her down, already tripping over how uniquely different she sounded. Her clean British accent wasn’t anything new, but it leant her an air of exoticism. A hint of something unfamiliar compared to what I was used to here.
“Mister…?” she prompted again, with more persistence, expecting an answer.
I sighed, wishing I could give her a chance to learn about me. My name. My mood. My desires—which were quickly waking up and molding to a particular interest inher.
The light green glimmer of her eyes didn’t fade as I refused to speak. Was it confidence? Annoyance? I wanted to chuckle at her prodding me for information.
“I’m not asking for any other reason than to complete my assessment of you,” she explained curtly.
I sat up, swinging my legs over the bed. In this position, she was right there, standing between my knees, her body so close to mine as I acclimated to being upright. “Your assessment?” I set my hands on the edge of the bed and leaned forward. “And how is that going? What have you observed of me so far?” Taunting her as I slanted closer, I was suckered into glancing at her lips as she licked them.
The idea of her being intimidated shouldn’t have thrilled me, but I’d never really enjoyed butting heads with a woman like this before. Never minding her prim and proper appearance, she was giving as good as she got. And I couldn’t get enough of it. Of pushing her buttons and wondering if she’d crack. If she’d lose that professionalism and waver.
“Stubborn,” she stated with a deadpanned smirk. “Perhaps indicative of a need for a scan to rule out a traumatic brain injury or concussion.”
I shook my head. “It comes naturally.”
“Marvelous.”
“What else?” I scooted closer to get into her space. “What else have you noticed in your assessment of me, Dr. Donovon?”
She licked her lips as she glanced behind me. “Your heart rate is increasing.”
“Maybe that’s your fault.”
