BONE_A Contemporary Romantic Medical Suspense Story

by Dee Palmer

  “Tragic?”

  “You’re smart, sexy, and in your sexual prime.”

  “Actually, I read somewhere that British women reach their sexual peak in their mid thirties.” I explain, entirely missing the point.

  “I think that’s a myth or a very old study, besides you’re an honorary Yank. And trust me, you are in your prime.” Cameron grins, and I take the compliment as best I can with a brief nod and a slight change of subject.

  “I’m ashamed for how little self-control I have. It’s like starting a diet or a new fitness regimen. Every Monday I’m determined to resist, I have my mental anti-Joel patch, and yet…” I slap an imaginary patch on my upper arm.

  “I think you need to put that patch somewhere else if you’re really trying to avoid penetration.” Harper scoffs.

  “Do they still make chastity belts?” Cameron asks.

  “They do. Very effective as a punishment in the BDSM lifestyle, I believe.” I blurt and roll my own eyes at my big mouth.

  “Always the quiet ones.” Harper repeats Cameron’s comment from earlier, and they both chuckle at my expense.

  “You know, I always forget your kinky streak.” Harper says after she’s finished laughing. She sighs and continues to look at me with curious eyes.

  “Another gift from Joel that keeps on giving.” It’s not something I shared, not the details at least. I had no idea what I’d like when I started down that path with Joel, but one thing I learnt very quickly was that some things are best kept private. Not everyone understands the marks, and despite reassurances, even best friends worry.

  “I’m intrigued. What other gifts are you referring to? Harper and Cameron both lean closer to me as if I’m about to share some juicy titbit.

  “Shh. Okay, we’re nearly here. Not a word.” I place my finger over my lip, ending all talk of Dr Prescott. I drive us close to the entrance of the hospital and into the basement car park. Since the Christmas Eve break-in incident, Joel lets me use his reserved space in the staff car park. My car isn’t big, and he can easily fit his flashy Ducati Superleggera motorbike beside my car.

  “We’re still in the car, Regan. People won’t hear us talk over the sound of your exhaust dying,” Harper points out with a wry arch of her brow.

  “You’re funny, and you could’ve gotten the train.” I drive slowly around the basement and pull into Joel’s empty space.

  “And miss the midmorning banter? Never,” Harper quips. “I have to say, it is impressive you two have kept your secret in this place.”

  “That’s because only you two know, and I trust you.” I ease the handbrake up, careful not to pull too hard. I fear the thing will come away in my hand. I really need a new car.

  “And Joel, you must trust him too.”

  Harper tries to hold our eye contact. I chicken out and lean over the back of my seat to fetch my bag, dismissing her inquisitive statement with a noncommittal, “I guess.” I push the door wide and jump from the car. “Okay, later, guys. Love you.” After locking the car, I hug Cameron and Harper in turn.

  “You want me to bring some of my ball gowns over later?”

  “You have more than one?”

  “I have more than you, unless you want to go in your birthday suit.”

  “I’d definitely want to go, if you do.”

  “Cameron!”

  “As a chaperone. You’re like a sister, Regan!” He winks and shakes his mischievous head at Harper.

  “I saw that.”

  “I’m a man.” He holds up his hands, either in his defence or by way of surrender.

  “A poor excuse that’s entirely overused, Cameron. Not that my low opinion of your gender needed any ammunition, but I thought better of you,” Harper replies, and I’ve already started to move off. If these two get into it, I’ll never get to work.

  “Ah, Harper, you know I love you best.” He tugs her stiff frame into his all-encompassing bear hug until she yields and hugs him back.

  “I heard that too,” I call out.

  “You are both my favourite ladies.” He releases his hold and waves to me. Harper does the same, and they both disappear up the ramp to work or wherever.

  “Bye,” I call out and hit the elevator button.

  “Hold the lift!” A familiar urgent voice echoes off the concrete walls in the underground car park and there’s a rush of heavy footsteps. David McCallister slides to a stop and steps smoothly through the doors that I just managed to hold for him.

  ”Thank you.” He effortlessly regains his composure and smiles a warm and winning smile at me. Recognition and pleasure illuminate his dark blue eyes, and I have to give at least a little credence to Harper’s observation of the good doctor: He is a little dreamy.

  “No problem.” I hold my finger over the array of floor options.

  “Oh, twelve, please.” He stands with his shoulder to mine, despite the ample space. We’ve had coffee a few times since our first meeting last Monday and we have this Saturday planned, still this contact feels strangely and inappropriately intimate. Manners and elevator etiquette prevent me seeking my own personal space even if the social awkwardness is pulsing off of me in waves. I must have an expression of confusion when I look up. He grins and purses his full lip like something amuses him. “Did you do anything fun over the weekend Regan?”

  I take the question as an opportunity to turn and face him, creating just enough space for me to break contact. My reply is breezy, and I even brush his arm because I now feel more awkward for moving away. It’s not like he had me pressed up against the wall, fingers sunk knuckle deep inside me like someone else I know would’ve done in an empty elevator. I can feel my face start to heat with my wayward thoughts, and I quickly shake the image away.

  “I had a sleepover for three hyperactive five-year-olds who systematically ransacked every room in my apartment and possibly gave me tinnitus.” I rub my ear at the memory of enduring the incessant high-pitched squeals from three feisty first graders all weekend.

  “You were babysitting?”

  “An advance favour for next weekend,” I explain, because no one in their right mind would volunteer for that level of torture. “Only my friend has twins, so she gets a twofer.”

  “Ah, got it. I guess it must be tricky being on your own.”

  “It was. Not so much now. I have a great network of friends, and besides, I’m usually a hermit, so it’s not like I’m always draining the favour bank.” I shrug. As hard as it was in the beginning, it’s more than manageable now. I love my life with Ruby, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

  “Then I’m honoured you chose to use one of those favours for me.”

  “Right back at you. I’ve never been asked to a ball.” I go to slap a playful hand on his chest, my tone light and jokey, until he captures my hand and holds it in his. He tugs me to close the gap I had created. I look up as he looks down.

  “That’s a crime right there.” His words are almost lost with the swoosh of the doors opening.

  “Nurse Jones.” The voice is a calm greeting, his tone like a reprimanding slap. I snap my hand from David’s but don’t move away. I’ve not done anything wrong, although turning to face Joel’s dark and dangerous scowl, you’d think I’d burnt his UP cabin to the ground.

  “Dr Prescott.” My professional, polite response is standard, even if this exchange is charged and making my tummy tighten with tension. It’s our unspoken golden rule: We both keep us secret. We never play, flirt, or anything in front of witnesses.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting something? I can take the next ride if you need a little privacy.” Joel pushes the words out deliberately through a taut, ticking jaw. His loaded inference makes my eyes widen like saucers. The comment was bad enough, but the proprietary way he said it made it so much worse.

  What the hell!

  “Don’t be an ass, Joel.” David responds, because I’m momentarily speechless.

  “My bad, Mac. Nurse Jones has better taste than to look tw
ice at a dork like you.”

  Joel steps into the elevator, punching David on his chest with enough force to make him step back. Joel fills the space between David and me, but lets out a bright easy laugh, which goes some way toward easing the burgeoning tension.

  “Think my taste is somewhat questionable these days.” I think I say that in my head but recoil when David responds.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, no… not you! I didn’t mean you, David.” I step behind Joel and then in front of him so I am now directly in front of David once more. I place my hand on the top of his arm, a firm reassuring grip I hope will do the trick. David gives me a gentle smile and nods. His eyes narrow above my head when Joel cuts in.

  “Then who…Regan?”

  “Nothing, I didn’t mean anyone. I was talking about…” I fluster, and my brain seems to be set on pause, as nothing is coming out.

  “Yes?” Joel’s smug knowing smile snaps me right out of my stasis.

  “David, would you like to meet up for lunch and we can talk about Saturday night.” I take both his hands in mine. The touch is so much more intimate than I am ready for, but I feel Joel forcing my hand, and for some unfathomable reason, I can’t be the adult and just ignore his childish behaviour.

  “Saturday?” Joel asks, and I smile widely at the irritation in his tone.

  “I’m sorry, was I talking to you, Dr Prescott?” I glance over my shoulder dismissively, and then look back to David.

  “Yes, that would be nice. I’ll look forward to it. My floor.” David squeezes my hand and steps between the opening doors.

  “So it is…bye, then, David,” Joel sing-songs and sighs with mock disappointment. I suck in a huge breath as he stands flush against my back, one hand on my shoulder and one on my ass. His grip tightens, and I swallow the rising lump and gasp. “It looks like you’ll have to leave Nurse Jones in my capable hands for the rest of the ride.”

  “It’s not a ride, Joel,” I grit, forcing an easy smile as the doors close on a confused-looking David.

  “We’ll see about that.” Once the doors are closed, my knees buckle with the motion of the moving car, or is it from Joel pulling me back into him? He swings me around until my back hits the wall, his strong frame caging me, his thick thigh pressed between my legs. As angry as I am, I still sink down onto his leg, my eager core needy for contact. What’s wrong with me?

  “Joel, what the hell are you doing?”

  “What do you think I’m doing?” His mouth collides with mine; his tongue dives inside, swirling, tangling, and drawing my body into his. He breaks, and breathlessly his gaze bores into me. Somewhere my sense and reason surface.

  “I think you are all but pissing around my feet marking your territory. I’m not yours to mark.” I challenge. “We’re a secret, Joel. That is the only thing we have going for us. That no one knows and now David will think—”

  “Why do you care what David thinks?” He cuts in, his tone clipped with hostility.

  “I don’t.” I shake my head, because that’s not right. And why the fuck does it matter to him? I’m nothing to him. “I mean I do. We have a date on Saturday, and I don’t want him thinking we’re anything.” I move my index finger rapidly between our two faces.

  “Date?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s taking you to the ball?” His face is still close to mine, but he pulls back as if trying to keep focus.

  “Yes…Joel.” I press my hand on his chest. He leans into my touch and then moves back, his face deep in thought. The car comes to a stop, and when that brief moment of weightless subsides, the doors open. I grab my bag from where it rests at my feet and step onto my floor. It’s Joel’s floor too. I turn since there are no footsteps following me. He is standing holding the closing elevator doors at bay. The way he is looking at me has me rooted to the spot.

  “Regan.” It’s not a question. He says my name like it belongs to him.

  “Yes.” I exhale.

  “You may not be my territory, but you are mine.” He lets the doors close and leaves me confused, hot, and dripping wet.

  Damn him.

  “I’m going to cry. Our little girl is all grown up.” Cameron hangs his long arm over Harper’s shoulder and pretends to wipe his eyes dry.

  “Girl clothes.” I beam, smoothing my hands down the slinky satin of my floor length electric blue ball gown. The material is heavy and hangs like a sexy second skin. I can’t stop touching it. A simple fitted vest type front hangs from spaghetti straps that criss-cross over my shoulder blades. The back is scooped and cut low, to just above indecent. I can feel the emotion well and bubble in my throat and behind my eyes. I indulge in a slow spin on the spot in Harper’s hallway, checking my unrecognisable reflection in the full-length mirror.

  I dropped Ruby at Shannon’s and decided to get ready for my big night at Harper’s house. Unlike me, I knew she’d have all the magic to assist this transformation. Ruby owns more make-up than I do. Dresses are in short supply, and forget anything to do with taming my hair. I’m happy to be a ponytail and PJ kinda girl, but tonight, I needed the big guns. I’d like to say it’s because this is my first ball, or that I want to look nice for David, when the truth is far more shallow. Tonight we are sharing a table with Joel and his ‘date’.

  “I feel a little sick.” Cameron’s mouth jerks with what I hope is a fake heave.

  “I’ll get some water.” I start to gather the abundant sways of material in one hand to give me enough freedom to move my legs. I turn around toward Harper’s kitchen.

  “You don’t move!” Harper’s finger flies toward my nose, halting any further movement. “I’ll get him some water…to go with his vagina,” she calls over her shoulder, and I snicker.

  “I’m nervous for Regan, that’s all,” he defends with an adorable full lip pout.

  “Pussy.” Harper hands him a glass of water and skewers him a deathly stare. She turns to me. “If there’s any to spare, you might want to bring back a set for Cameron.”

  “Spare?” I scrunch my face with confusion.

  “Balls at your ball. Cameron’s turned into a big girl,” she remarks, smug pleasure at her taunt curling her lips. “It’s a real turn-off, by the way.”

  “Tell me you’re not a little nervous.” He ignores the gibe with a flick of his middle finger. “Regan hasn’t been on a date-date since fuckface five years ago, and David actually seems like a good guy. This could be it.” His explanation makes my stomach tighten with knots and roll with nausea that wasn’t there two minutes ago.

  “Thanks for that, Cam, but calm down; it’s a date. I’m not walking down the aisle.”

  “I had no idea you were such a romantic, Cam.” Harper mock fans herself, but I notice the curious expression she has fixed on him. A blink and it’s gone, and I’m too distracted to give it any more thought.

  “There is much you don’t know about me, Harper the Ice Queen.”

  “I doubt that, lover boy.” She blows him a tight kiss and returns her focus in my direction. “Are you okay, Regan? Are you worried about David being a serial killer?”

  “What? No!”

  “Just checking. I mean we don’t know the guy. I know I’d feel better if we’d met him beforehand. Still you don’t look at all nervous, not like the princess here.” She jerks her head back to Cameron who has a dark, unamused scowl furrowing his brow. “What? If I’m the queen, you’re my princess, only fair.”

  If I wasn’t a mess of uncertainty, I would be picking up the strange vibes firing left and right, but as it is, I choose to stick with the knitting. What does that even mean?

  “Well, unlike Cameron, I have set the bar quite low for tonight. I’m just hoping I don’t trip up in this gorgeous dress, that I don’t spill anything down the front, oh, and that Joel stays away from me.”

  “Two out of three ain’t bad, because, trust me, babe, looking like that, there is no way he’s staying away.” Harper arches a knowing brow.

&nb
sp; “It’s not that bad, is it? I just wanted to wear something that didn’t smell of baby puke or have flame retardant in the fibres for a change.” My shoulders sink a little as I take in the unprecedented amount of cleavage and skin on show.

  “It’s stunning. You’re stunning, and Joel is a lucky man.” Cameron eases up from the arm of the chair and walks over to me. He stands directly behind me, and firmly holding my shoulders, he straightens my frame and squeezes his own unique brand of confidence into me with his sweet touch.

  “David, David is a lucky man,” I correct.

  “Sure, that too.” He flashes a wink at Harper and nods at me with no conviction. The doorbell chimes, making me jump.

  “Okay, he’s here. Wish me luck.” I take Harper’s coat from her and hug them both.

  “Enjoy yourself. You deserve it.” Harper hands me her silk clutch bag that perfectly matches the dress and Jimmy Choos.

  “We won’t wait up.” Cameron says just as I open the door to David.

  “Good, because I’m not coming back here.”

  “Ooooh, get you. You might be getting that slut badge after all,” Cameron says. I know he was using his indoor voice, but the damn door was open.

  I cringe, and make a tight-lipped reply to his untimely innuendo. “I meant I’m going home. Jeeze, Cameron, you have a one-track mind.” I shake my head, my face flaming bright red, giving a little warmth to the chilly night air.

  I make the introductions. “David, this is Cameron and Harper.”

  “Best friends, and I’ve put a tracker on her phone.” Harper holds her hand out, only her joke didn’t sound at all jokey.

  “Noted. It’s good to meet you. I’ll take good care of her, I promise.” David oozes charm and isn’t remotely fazed by Harper’s strange hostile parent act.

  “She’s only teasing about the tracker. Isn’t that right, Harper?”

  She nods. “Yeah, I’m teasing.” Her smile is easy; however, her eyes are directing a warning glower at my date.