Something about her intrigued him, touched him in a way he'd not experienced before. He felt the need to know her and Christopher couldn't wait to hear what her story was when she finally woke up. And why was his right ass cheek burning? Like he had time to scratch it right now!
Chapter Two
Everything went by in a blur of perfectly choreographed teamwork between Christopher and Janice for the next couple of hours. From x-rays, to getting IV's inserted, blood workup, casting her broken ankle, and cleaning her up, there wasn't one wasted moment. Within her personal effects, they hadn't found any medical alert items, so he hoped and prayed she wasn't allergic to anything they needed to give her. As it was, they would have to keep a close watch on her for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours because of her concussion. He'd take the first shift to watch over her, letting Janice go home and rest once Ms. Kane was ready to be moved to her room.
Christopher and Janice worked nonstop until then. The entire time she never woke or even moved a muscle, no matter what was done to her. Poor thing, Christopher really felt bad for her.
During part of all this, he recalled Danny jabbering about how cool her motorcycle had been, while he and Janice worked their asses off. “You should have seen the sweet little crotch rocket she had, Doc. It was, ‘cause now it's history, but it must've been a demon on the road before she laid it down. That beauty was a Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14, painted the brightest Christmas red you've ever seen. Those babies run on a four stroke, four-cylinder, liquid-cooled engine. They're dynamite going down the road. What a darn shame. A recent model to boot."
He remembered smidgens of the conversation and the look of awe on Danny's face; if one didn't know better, it could've been misconstrued as sexual arousal, when it was nothing more than a hard-on for a motorcycle. That boy needed to find himself a girlfriend.
Danny finally left, saying he had to restock the ambulance and get something to eat. Christopher really liked Danny, but when things got hairy, like right now, he could drive a person to hit the bottle.
Christopher was not sure if it was the painful crick in his neck, or the headache pounding behind his closed eyelids that woke him. He had fallen asleep sitting up in a chair next to Candi's bed. His long hours at the clinic had finally taken their toll.
Mumbled words caused his head to snap to attention, chin and eyes facing forward. He looked at Candi still lying unconscious; she hadn't moved a muscle since he and Janice transferred her into this room about four hours ago. He faintly made out the softly whispered words feathering through his mind.
"Daddy, I can hear you."
"Baby, where are you?"
"I'm not sure. The last thing I remember was riding my motorcycle, and then nothing ... Oh ... Wait. I had an accident ... Daddy, am I dead?"
"Oh, my daughter, we could not have this telepathic conversation if you were not among the living."
"Daddy, I'm scared."
Even though her voice was a gentle whisper through his mind, its fearful tone touched Christopher's heart, making him want to reach out and take her into his arms, reassure and give her comfort to drive her fears away.
"Shooo, it is all right, my baby girl.” His mental tone was fatherly and confident, reassuring her. “You must be unconscious sweetheart. When you wake up, you will know where you are and can tell me."
"I love you daddy ... I..."
The last words drifted into silence. Well, I'll be damned; she can talk to her father like I can talk to my parents. Whoa ... wait a minute. I shouldn't be able to pick up on their conversation. What's going on here? Why can I hear what they are saying to each other? That shouldn't happen. Is it because I am tired and my mind is open to their telepathic thread of conversation?
He knew there were other kinds of magical beings; but he wasn't sure which one she was. Standing, Christopher stretched with his arms arched back over his head, working out the cricks and kinks in his back. Groaning, he bent to check her vitals. The moment his fingertips came into contact with her soft warm skin, his right butt check began to burn and itch. He looked around quickly; making sure no one was around before he reached his hand back behind him to give his butt a good hard scratching. Boy, that felt good. Man, I hope I am not getting a rash or something on my backside.
Christopher wasn't about to drop his drawers for Janice to look at his ass, that was for sure. How embarrassing would that be? Hey, Janice would you mind checking my butt out? No, I am not getting fresh with you and yes, I am serious. What's wrong you ask? I'm not really sure, but it itches like crazy.
Oh ... he could just imagine the look on her face right now. Nope, not even going there.
With her hair brushed back from her face, he saw Candi had a refined, heart shaped face, with porcelain-textured skin that flowed over her bone structure. A small nose tipped up at the end, gave her an impish appearance. Her full, pink tinged lips had a slight bow shape, giving them a plump bee stung look.
He already knew what her eye coloring was, having looked at them when she was first brought in. They were an unusual shade of violet blue, speckled with gold flakes, as if fool's gold had been sprinkled in her eyes, giving them a unique sparkle, which even in her unconscious state took his breath away when he lifted her eyelids. Dark blond brows arched over her eyes, with a thick layer of eyelashes that shadowed her cheeks with femininity. Light blond hair framed and fell along side her shoulders and face.
Whoa ... Christopher startled by his intense interest in Candi. Along with that, his fingers itched to touch her as only a man could touch a woman. A touch wholly sexual, awakening all the senses to bodies writhing as one in an impassioned embrace. Lips consumed in wet heat, devouring and untamed. Christopher's cock hardened and his heart rate accelerated as his passion rose. His thoughts had turned sexually vivid and arousing toward her. He'd never had any sexual interest in any of his patients before, yet with Candi it was different and he didn't know why.
It was definitely time to go upstairs and get some sleep before he would be needed again later in the morning. A cold shower wouldn't hurt either, now that he thought about it.
* * * *
Candi's eyelids felt like lead as she tried to pry them open. Who in the heck cemented her eyes shut? Her body didn't fair much better. A semi-truck must have run over her ass when she wasn't looking; even her hair hurt. She finally managed to slit her eyelids open.
Bright light from a window, pierced across her vision, causing shards of pain to prick at her eyeballs. Damn that smarts. When she reached up a hand to shield her eyes; a slim tube filled her vision. It was then she noticed she had an IV inserted and taped to the top of her hand. Now, that looks like it should hurt, but it doesn't.
Her eyes finally adjusted to the light coming into the room, which really wasn't much with the blinds pulled. Everything hurt, so why not a small beam of filtered light?
Candi let her eyes roam down her draped body, noticing she wore an unflattering hospital gown. Then her eyes zeroed in on the major lump that was her lower left leg. She tried wiggling her toes. Holy hell that hurts! Okay, now what?
Looking around the white washed walls of the room decorated with strands of Christmas garland, added a festive touch to the walls with its vibrant greens and red richness of the berries clustered among the leaves. Twinkle lights draped around the one window, giving off a heavenly sparkle caught her eye and beneath that was the most scrawny ‘Charlie Brown’ type Christmas tree she'd ever seen. Someone had overloaded it with decorations weighing down its poor fragile limbs. The top of the Christmas tree bowed with the weight of a glass tipped topper set precariously at its tip. That someone had taken the time to decorate the tree, which more than likely someone else would have thrown away, touched Candi.
Her eyes stung. Until this moment did she glimpse the depth of what Christmas could be like. She didn't understand why, suddenly, she felt this overwhelming urge to cry over decorations, but she did. Maybe the medication was affecting her? Maybe she felt a kinship
with the tiny Christmas tree, small and weighted down like her, by personal problems.
She tried pulling herself up on her elbows to sit, but she didn't have the strength and fell back onto the pillow.
This was all her fault if she hadn't run away from her feelings of being between two worlds the fey and the human one, taking off for who knows where on her motorcycle. And she wouldn't be lying right now in some hospital bed, in a strange place with a broken ankle if the pain was any indication when she'd wiggled her toes earlier. Who knew what the rest of her body looked like? She had royally screwed herself this time. Great job Candi Kane. You haven't a clue who you really are or where you fit into this world, being Half-human and half-fey leaves you without a real sense of heritage or belonging in either world.
To the fey, she was a mongrel, no better than the dirt beneath their feet. The only thing remotely un-human and magical about her was her telepathic ability, and even that was draining on her human half, so her cell phone came in handy most of the time. Crap, she was truly a misfit.
Her father had been left alone to raise her after her mother passed away during childbirth. He had tried so hard to give her a balanced and normal life that at times, and without meaning to, he would smother her emotionally, giving her too much attention and overreacting to the littlest things. She was afraid she had let him down this time. Running away from her fears and doubts seemed to have created more problems, rather than helped.
He had given up the magical realm of the fey to be with her mother, he loved her that much. He'd been stripped of all his magic, but mental telepathy. Sometimes Candi wished that hadn't been given to her. It was the only reminder that she was half-fey.
Candi could remember bits and pieces of the telepathic conversation with her father while she was unconscious. She'd call him when she felt stronger and more in control of her emotions. Right now, she felt empty, hurt, and tired. She could barely keep her eyes open.
A tickling of tears threatened to overflow. Dammit! Candi wouldn't let herself cry. She needed to suck it up and deal with the here and now, wherever the hell that was. How much worse could things get?
Now, what was she to do? Don't be emotional, use logic, Candi. All this worrying had drained her injured and tired body. With a yawn, she stopped fighting her exhaustion. Her eyes slowly shut and sleep overtook her exhausted body.
* * * *
Christopher woke refreshed with the two hours of sleep he had gotten. He was used to very little sleep during his days as an intern and he never got out of the routine of snatching a couple of hours here and there. If he could stretch out, then he could sleep.
Around 7:30 A.M. he descended from his living quarters upstairs and made his way down the stairs. Just as he stepped off the last step he heard voices coming from Ms. Kane's room. He stopped dead in his tracks, straining to hear what was being said. He could make out Janice's; her voice was strong, with a forthright tone, easily discernable from anyone else's.
"How are you feeling Candi?"
"I feel pretty good for a girl that feels like she kissed the grill of a semi using only her body for introductions,” Candi said with a hint of humor.
Her sultry voice and laugh licked deliciously at his senses, sending a direct hit to his groin area. His cock pushed up against the front of his pants, and the zipper started to bite into its expanding length and girth. Holy hell, if her voice affects my body this way, what will I do if she talks to me or touches me?
Without making a noise, he crept back upstairs to change into his longer white medical jacket, the one with his name clearly embroidered in blue threads on the front breast pocket. Hanging to his knees, it would camouflage his arousal. His cock was like a Yule log at a Christmas harvest, large and hard. All he needed was a tent in front of his pants announcing to the world, ‘look at me'. That would be too damn embarrassing for words.
With a resigned breath, he turned on his heels and made his way back downstairs, trying to take light steps so that the planks in the wooden steps wouldn't squeak in protest. This was going to be a true test of his willpower today, dealing with Ms. Kane if his body was any indication of how she affected it—him.
Would he be able to control his body's reaction to Candi? He needed to get laid at the rate his hormones were bouncing all around in his pants. Opening the door to his office, he tried to recall the last time he'd had sex. When? Damn, he wasn't really sure. Crap! How pathetic.
Chapter Three
Christopher walked to the doorway of Candi's room a little while later, minus a woody and found Janice sitting by her bedside. The two of them were chatting away like they two were old friends. The conversation flowed with an easy and unhurried current. For a second, he was jealous of Janice having something he didn't; this lovely woman's attention, smiling and talking to her.
He wanted that with Candi for some unknown reason. His emotions were getting the better of him and he scolded himself. He had no reason to be jealous of Janice. She was sweet and kind to a fault. And he was thinking like an ass.
Neither woman had noticed him standing at the doorway. As he watched, the full impact of seeing Candi awake took his breath away. His right ass cheek started to burn and itch again and that bothersome hard-on was back in full force.
What was it about this woman that caused him to lose control of his body in a matter of seconds just by watching her talk? He needed to find out who and what she was after eavesdropping on her telepathic conversation, and fast, before he lost his control completely.
Just as he was about to make his presence known to the two women, he overheard Candi ask Janice if they had the fanny pack that she'd had on her when she had gotten into the accident. It contained her cell phone and she needed to call someone.
Who did she want to call? A boyfriend? A husband? Someone as beautiful as she would have a boyfriend or husband stashed away somewhere. Why the heck did he care? Get a grip, Christopher. Your professionalism has just hit rock bottom. Doctors aren't supposed to have sexual urges toward their patients. Doctors were to keep their point of focus on the medical welfare of their patients, not their bodies. Someone needed to tell his pecker that, ‘cause it had a mind of its own lately. And, he was having a hell of a time talking it down from its perpetual heads up position where Candi was concerned.
* * * *
The moment Candi opened her eyes she spied a woman standing at the foot of her bed looking down at a chart. She guessed it was the one that had been in the plastic bin attached to her door, since the one she noticed briefly when she'd woken earlier was now gone. The woman wrote something on the clipboard, before returning it to its resting place.
When the woman turned back, she noticed Candi was awake. “Hello there. My name is Janice.” She then walked up to the side of Candi's bed and patted her hand, in a reassuring gesture. “How are you feeling Ms. Kane?"
"Please, call me Candi. Ms. Kane makes me feel old."
"You got it. Candi it is.” Janice's face was an open book of kindness to Candi. She felt instantly at ease with this woman. “How long have I been here?"
Janice smiled, pulling up a chair right next to Candi's bed so they could talk for a while. “You were brought in last night about 10:30."
Janice proceeded to grill Candi to see how her memory was. Surprisingly, for having a concussion, she remembered everything up to the accident and then after, conversing mentally with her father. Not that she would tell that to Janice.
"Candi, do you remember anything about the accident?"
Candi frowned in concentration. “I remember very little to be honest.” Candi used two fingers to rub along the lines of her forehead. “I'm sorry, but my mind is foggy."
Janice patted Candi's hand in reassurance. “That is okay, dear. Loss of memory is common in patients with head trauma. You were lucky you were wearing your helmet. Give yourself time and it might come back to you."
"You've been so kind to me.” Candi couldn't help but think Janice must have the patien
ce of a saint taking the time to reassure her. “Janice are you married? Have any children?"
With a smile touching her lips and flowing up to her eyes, Janice spoke, “Yes, I was married until my husband died four years ago. Sadly, we couldn't have children."
"I'm so sorry. I hope I haven't offended you by asking."
"No, dear.” Janice shook her head. “We had almost forty years together. We were high school sweethearts and I was lucky to have met and married the man of my dreams."
Tears stung the back of her eyes. “How wonderful for you. I don't have much luck with men."
"Don't be silly. You're young and beautiful. Any man would be proud to have a pretty thing like you to call their own. You just need to rest and get better. You need anything, you just let me know."
Janice's smile warmed Candi's heart and made her feel loved even though she hardly knew her. “Thank you. It's comforting to know I'm in such good hands.” Candi smiled weakly.
She really liked Janice. Kind, considerate and soft-spoken, but she wouldn't want to cross the woman. She exuded a backbone of sheer steel and strength. She was a motherly type and Candi wouldn't have minded having her for a mother. Moisture gathered in her eyes. She sniffed a couple of times to gather herself together before talking. “I noticed I have a cast on my left ankle. How bad was it broken?"
"It was a clean break, and should be nicely healed in six to eight weeks. You're young and strong, so overall, you'll be back on your feet in no time.” She took Candi's hand in hers. “You're in the best of hands now, so just relax and get some rest. Everything will work out fine. Aside from the mild concussion, thanks to your motorcycle helmet and the leathers you were wearing, you really came out of this accident with minimal skin abrasions. You are a very lucky young lady."
Babes in Toyland II Page 7