Knock, knock, knock.
I stood up straight, spoon in my mouth, and my eyes grew wide. Is it him? Has he come back to claim me?
When I made it to the door, I saw that I’d forgotten to put down my spoon and pint of ice cream. I didn’t want Jake, or Asher, to know I was gorging my blues away. “Fuck,” I whispered.
“Who is it?” I called.
“It’s me, Kit Kat,” Zara said.
I was relieved but disappointed it wasn’t Asher as well. I stuck my spoon into my softening ice cream and opened the door.
Zara, who was wearing sweaty shorts and a tank top, frowned at what was in my hands. “Oh my God. That bad, huh?”
I snorted. “Believe me, it was worse before this.”
I invited her in, and for some odd reason, she turned on the light in the living room then turned it off.
“What are you doing?” I asked, frowning dubiously as I flopped down onto the sofa.
She sat carefully on the edge of the sofa beside me. “Nothing. I thought I wanted more light but decided I didn’t.” She waved her fingers toward me, asking for my dinner.
I sighed and handed her the carton. “Ice cream after a run, huh?”
She rolled her eyes.
“And what are you doing out running this late anyway? You’re begging to be dragged into the alley by creepy-rapist guy.”
She held a large spoonful of my favorite ice cream in front of her mouth. “Or a creepy stalker gazing into the windows.”
“What?” I asked, frowning.
“Nothing.” She plopped the ice cream into her mouth then closed her eyes to relish the flavors. “Now, that’s good.” She gave the carton and spoon back to me.
Zara and I often ate from the same silverware and drank from the same cup. We were not queasy about sharing each other’s germs. I always considered her my sister from another mother.
I snorted. “So, why did you leave the dinner? You left before we did.”
She groaned, closing her eyes. “Long story, but it involves Kirk, the driver. I don’t want to talk about it, not tonight.”
“Wow, did you guys kiss?”
She looked at me with one eye open.
I shoved her playfully on the shoulder. “Oh my God, you did. Was it nice?”
“Personally, I think I should be the one asking the questions.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you said the lovely Dr. Jake Sparrow has secrets. What are they?”
I sniffed, jerking my head back. “Come on. When have you known me to tell someone’s secrets?”
Zara had a slight smirk on her face as she studied me. It was weird.
“What?” I asked then ran my tongue across my front teeth, wondering if I had chocolate on them or something.
“Nothing.”
“Hey,” I said, pointing my spoon at her. “You’re the one who kissed Kirk. You’re the one who has shit to share, not me.”
“Right,” she said, rising to her feet, then she stretched while yawning. “I’m also the one who needs a shower. You smell lovely. Like man sweat and sex.”
I laughed. She was right. I was drenched in Asher’s scent.
“Plus, I have an early morning, and so do you.” She held out her arms, and I stood to hug her.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” I asked.
Her eyes shone bright as she rubbed her hands together. “Photo shoot in Manhattan. Wish me luck.”
“Luck,” I said. “And wish me luck.”
“Luck, because you’re going to need it way more than I do,” she said.
“Ha,” I said as I showed her out.
Only after she left did I wonder why Zara presumed I would need more luck than her. Regardless, I was glad she was gone but only for one reason. I didn’t want to share any more of my ice cream. I dropped back onto the sofa and continued eating it until it was all gone.
Blue Butterfly, your wing’s clipped. Blue Butterfly, you’re cruel. You shouldn’t be so shaky. I shouldn’t be a fool.
That was the chorus of the song. I silenced my alarm before it could repeat. The previous night before falling asleep, I’d eaten the entire pint of chocolate blast. Rich creaminess settled in my stomach like a log. Emotional gorging always had its consequences. A wave of nausea hit me, and while I closed my eyes, waiting for the sickness to pass, I tried to assess the emotional damage from the previous night’s interaction with Jake or Asher. I groaned, clutching my belly, unable to focus on what I wanted to ponder.
When the nausea disappeared, I hopped to my feet, happy it was gone. I had no time to think about Asher, since I had to get ready to go to work. Once again, I found myself counting minutes as if they were Weight Watchers points.
First, I showered. That took eight minutes. Next, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail. That took less than a minute. I didn’t take an extra minute to primp, even though I cared how I would look when I eventually ran into Asher. Frankly, I was too tired to fix any messes the mirror revealed.
Even though the sight of food made me want to hurl, I knew I had to pack snacks to keep my energy up throughout the day. It felt as though it had been forever since I prepared my nutrition for a long shift. I still had dry snacks in my bag, but once my belly was less cranky, I would be hungry enough to win a hot dog eating contest. Just about all my baby carrots had turned mushy and slimy, but I washed the freshest ones and put them in a plastic Ziploc bag. That took three minutes.
I was out of apples and oranges. Note to self, go grocery shopping. Then I remembered I should have a big bag of raw almonds in the cabinet. I padded over to the other side of the kitchen, found them in the cabinet, then put them in my bag as well.
Even though I felt as if I was leaving tons of things behind, it was time to go, so I grabbed my bag, rushed out of my apartment, went down the elevator, and once I stepped out of the building, my hopes were thwarted.
A part of me had expected to see Asher standing out front, waiting for me. Such a romantic gesture certainly wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. He had shown up at the airport yesterday, which impressed me. Then we’d walked to the bookstore and danced at the outdoor concert. All the flowers he left me every morning when I stayed at the penthouse, the masquerade party, the rides in hired cars—it all indicated that he was a romantic guy, but that morning, he wasn’t.
Disappointed, I moved fast up the avenue, not paying much attention to those who were heading to the hospital to start their shifts with me. I had to put my mind into surgeon mode. A long time had passed since I’d gone more than two days without being in the OR. Strangely, I hadn’t missed it much. I might have had senioritis as far as my residency was concerned. It was almost over, and I needed a bigger break than two days. I needed frivolous time to do nothing but sleep in for several days and not worry about my missing mother or how a patient was progressing throughout his recovery.
I wanted to read a newspaper and learn who was who in the world. What about those Christmases? Asher had two brothers and a sister. Never had I been more curious about them than I was then.
Freedom was on the horizon, but when I stepped onto the grassy quad of the hospital grounds, I stretched my fingers. I hoped I was scheduled to perform an early procedure. An early surgery was just what I needed to put me solidly back in a surgeon’s state of mind.
“Morning, Pen,” Kevin said as he swept past me just before I entered the lobby.
He didn’t even give me time to respond, which was odd because he wasn’t the type to not wait for me to say good morning back.
When I entered the building, Cecily and Nina, the two check-in clerks, observed me without saying a thing.
“Good morning, ladies,” I said since they wouldn’t.
They both looked down at the desk, as if something had suddenly occupied their attention. That was weird.
I passed two other familiar faces walking toward the care station, and they averted their eyes too.
I chewed on my lower
lip. Right. Not only had Asher and I left the party early, but we’d made it clear we were a couple. They didn’t know that Julia Valentine had tossed a grenade into our hot and heavy love affair the previous night. As far as they knew, Asher and I were blissfully breaking the rules.
But I wanted to yell at everybody to give me a break. I was almost done. Like, I literally had my big toe on the finish line.
The care station was in sight, and Deb was standing at the counter, doing paperwork. Shit, I’d forgotten about the look on her face when she got an up-close-and-personal view of Asher and me kissing. Damn it.
“Penina, let’s talk,” Deb said without looking up from her paperwork once I made it to an EMR station.
Panic made me feel as if I had been struck with a sudden bout of vertigo. “Talk about what?”
She swooped up the papers and file folders off the counter. “A lot. Follow me.”
We went into one of the small instruction rooms off the central care station. Her expression was unreadable, but she watched me closely as I sat across from her at the table.
“How involved with an attending are you?” she finally asked.
Yes, it was slight hostility in her eyes. I wanted to make some smart-ass comment, asking her how involved we looked. I sure as hell wasn’t going to let myself be written up for falling in love with Jake Sparrow, not then or ever.
“Deb, I’m less than a month away from being a fellow. So just let it go.”
She stabbed the tabletop. “But you’re still a resident now, and I’m still your supervisor.”
“So what are you asking? You want me to lay off of—” Shit, what do I call him? The previous night, before I’d gotten out of the limo, he said everyone should get used to calling him Asher. But it was his duty to inform our colleagues first, not mine.
Deb watched me curiously. “Dr. Sparrow,” she said, finishing for me. “Are you okay, Penina? It’s been a while since you’ve been on shift, and you look very tired.”
I sat up straight, attempting to appear as though I had more energy. Deb’s perception was spot-on. I was tired, more emotionally than physically. “I’m fine.”
“Well,” she said with a sigh, “you and Dr. Sparrow are adults. I wish you would’ve said something. I didn’t enjoy finding out that way.”
I nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” She opened a folder. “But I asked you here for a different reason. You have a fellowship offer from this hospital and—”
Claudette, one of the triage nurses, pushed the door open wide and announced, “Deb, we have reporters all over the place.”
It had gotten out and spread like wildfire. All media outlets, big and small, print and internet, reported Asher Christmas was a neurosurgeon at Unity Medical Center in New Orleans, Louisiana.
I’d never known how vastly popular the Christmases were. As I stood at the EMR machine, searching for my assigned patients, everyone around me talked about Asher, their voices spiked with excitement. It was as if people had just found out Prince William had gone missing for six years and turned up in New Orleans.
“When did you learn who he was, Penina?” Angela asked during handoffs.
I stopped searching the database and looked at all the curious faces watching me. I shrugged. “A few days ago.”
“Then the last time we saw each other, you didn’t know?”
My cold glare didn’t seem to faze her. She still appeared insistent that I answer.
“No,” I muttered, not because I didn’t want to upset her but because it was the truth. I sighed sharply. “And where are my handoffs?”
“You’re off rotation,” Angela said.
With one hand on my hip and the other massaging my right temple, I closed my eyes, needing a moment to process that. How could a surgeon, especially one of my caliber, be off rotation? Was Deb punishing me for last night?
“What?” I finally asked.
Angela raised her eyebrows as she shrugged. That was her way of saying, “Tough luck, and that’s what you get for fucking Asher Christmas.”
I stomped away from the EMR console, on my way to find Deb and have it out with her. I was plodding down the corridor where all the patient care consult rooms were when a large hand covered my mouth and an even stronger arm wrapped around my waist, and someone carried me off.
At first, I was shocked, then I became terrified as I realized I couldn’t yell for help, bite, or elbow the guy. And I only thought to use my heel to kick him in the shin when he had already pulled me into one of the lightless exam rooms.
“Dr. Ross,” he whispered, his mouth close to my ear. “Don’t scream. It’s me.”
“Who?” I asked, although I couldn’t do more than hum the word.
“Me, Greg Carroll.” He removed his hand.
“Greg Carroll?”
“Yes. I’m going to turn on the light.”
I shook like a leaf, but at least I felt less afraid as the light clicked on and it was indeed him.
Chapter Nine
Asher Christmas
12 Hours Ago
From where I sat in the back of the limo, I could see Penina standing in front of the elevator. I kept my focus glued to the entrance of the building, making sure no one sketchy came in behind her. My eyes narrowed a fraction more as I paid attention to how delicate she looked with her arms folded tightly against her ribs and her shoulders hunched. Then I pictured her erect nipples against my tongue and the heated flesh of her breast in my mouth. Fuck. I grabbed my dick as it stiffened. It took every ounce of willpower to stay put.
I was less of a man and more of a deadbeat boyfriend for not at least escorting her to her apartment. But I knew why I couldn’t do that. I wanted a lot of shit in my life, but never had I wanted anything more than to make love to Penina that night. My cock begged me to let it slide inside her again and thrust into her nice and slow. I loved it when she tightened her pussy around my shaft. Whenever she did that, I knew shortly thereafter she would come. I wanted nothing more than to hear her sigh when she felt it and see her eyes expand and her mouth open as if she were struggling to breathe. That fucking turned me on.
I had no surgeries scheduled for the next day. Penina thought her shift started at five a.m. But it had been decided. Her residency was complete. In the morning, when her alarm played the song about the blue butterfly, I was going to reveal that Si would be presenting her with a fellowship she couldn’t refuse. Then I would draw her under me, separating her thighs, and ram my engorged cock into her wet wonderland. Later, when we were done making love, we would go to the hospital, and sign the contract, and wouldn’t have to report back to the hospital until the first of October. For several months, Penina Ross would be all mine.
I was the boss. I was in charge. And I had securely ensured that surgical duties wouldn’t hinder me indulging in Penina Ross. The only obstacle that could get in the way of my need to overdose on her had sent several text messages to my cell phone and then had the balls to call. When Julia wanted something, she sought to acquire it with all guns blazing. She was capable of anything and was an expert at pulling the rug right out from under a person’s feet while looking them in the eye.
I pressed the button on the console to talk to Kirk. We were still separated by a tinted window. I would’ve rolled it down, but I wanted to keep the sweet aroma of Penina’s skin, which filled the air, all to myself.
“Ready,” I said.
He started the engine and pulled away from the curb.
I was restless in my seat, unable to get comfortable. Asher Christmas was back and residing beneath my skin. I wanted Penina to read the book about my family, which had some true details about me, and decide whether she could love me or not. Jake was a man with no past or future. He existed in that beautiful reality called the present. In the present, I had made love to Penina, taken her dancing, and bared my fucking soul to her. Jake carried no shame, nor was he burdened with constantly feeling inadequate.
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I wiped my hands over my face and whispered, “Fuck,” into my palms.
My feet were back on the chessboard. Julia was a parasite threatening my tranquility. I had to make moves that ensured I wouldn’t get eaten up from the inside out or lose the one woman I’d ever loved. That was why as Asher Christmas, I picked up my cell phone and made a call.
I dropped my phone on the seat then grimaced while shaking my fists. I was agitated. The call I’d made to my sister, Bryn, had gone straight to voice mail. I was losing both my shit and my resolve.
How did Julia know how to find me, anyway? It couldn’t have been Spencer. He wasn’t the same brother I could never trust. I shook my head. It wasn’t him. And it sure as hell wasn’t Jasper.
“Ash?” Kirk’s voice rang through the speakers as the culprit’s face came to mind.
I stretched my neck, hot under the collar as I smashed the communication button. “Yeah, Kirk?”
“I see reporters in front of your building. A whole fucking lot of them.”
Shit. They knew where to find me, which further supported my conclusion that it was Gina who’d sold me out. However, it wasn’t her style to throw the press a bone. That was all Julia.
“How far away are we?”
“They’re watching my approach.”
Shit.
“Should I make a U-turn?” he asked.
“No. That’ll only alert them. Don’t slow down, but don’t speed up. Cruise past at the speed limit.”
“Got it.”
The action was performed to perfection. A few of the reporters looked after the limo as if something of value might be inside, but none of them followed up on their suspicions.
“It worked,” Kirk said. “Where to now?”
I glared out the window as we passed storefronts of closed businesses. New Orleans wasn’t my home. If we were in New York or Rhode Island, I would have plenty of places to hide. But there, I was a sitting duck. I couldn’t go to the hospital either. The most sagacious reporters would be camped out there, pretending to be patients. But none of them were loitering in front of the place I had just left.
Embrace: The Secret Billionaire Asher Christmas Duet, Two (The Dark Christmases Book 9) Page 8