by Cara Adams
But it was Oscar she needed to sign the paperwork today. His cousin, George Thorne, was determined to take control of the clinic. George said his grandparents had wanted him to have it. That wasn’t what their wills said, and Sierra preferred to trust the written word over George’s protests. So far, George’s attorney seemed to be very unimaginative and easy to outwit. Sierra just hoped he’d tell George to give up his futile attempts to cause trouble very soon. The paperwork Oscar was about to sign showed George had no hope of legally overturning the written wills. With luck, this would be the end of his complaints about Oscar.
She drove smoothly up the long driveway and parked in a visitor parking space right by the door. She grabbed her briefcase and jumped out of the car, clicking it locked as she walked up to the front entry and into the reception area.
An extremely handsome red-haired man was standing at the desk talking to Ambrielle. She’d seen him before but it took her a minute or two to remember his name. Fergus, Fergus MacLeod, a werewolf shape-shifter and a nurse here at the clinic. Oh, he was a fine figure of a man. Around six inches taller than her and every inch of him lean muscle. He could nurse her any time.
The wolf must have heard the door open because he turned and looked at her. Wow! His eyes were a bright blue and she had to hurriedly gather her court persona around her to prevent her face or body language betraying what her mind was thinking. Her brain was filled with images of him naked, on a beach with the sea behind him the color of his eyes. Or maybe in a swimming pool. Ah hell, naked anywhere would work. Unfortunately she wasn’t here to talk to him. She needed to see Oscar and as soon as possible. She really didn’t have any time to waste.
“Is Dr. Thorne in, Ambrielle? I have some papers he needs to sign.”
“He got your text message. He’s in the physiotherapy room with a patient. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”
Ambrielle hurried out of the room, but Nurse MacLeod remained standing by the reception desk. Likely Ambrielle hadn’t finished doing whatever he needed from her. Sierra smiled at Mr. Truly Delicious and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt. This shouldn’t take long.” She put her briefcase down at her feet and stretched out her arm. It was hot and stinging. She hoped it wasn’t bleeding again. The last thing she needed was blood on her clothing. But she refused to look at it. If she ignored it perhaps it would get better faster.
“Your arm’s hurt,” said Fergus.
Oh, shit. I should have guessed nurses and doctors would notice. Why didn’t I stop and put my jacket on when I got out of the car?
“It’s nothing. Just a rope burn.” She made her voice as dismissive as possible.
The nurse didn’t listen to her. He stepped up to her, lifted her arm, and turned it over. “See how red it is? That’s infection. You need to get this treated.”
“Infection?” She looked down at her arm. She’d assumed the red was bruising like the black and purple, but now she looked closely at her arm she could see the edges of one wound were puffy and irritated, likely infected as he’d said. Damn that fucking ropes course to hell. How can I appear in court with an infected arm?
Fergus kept hold of her arm and looked straight into her face, dragging her attention from the arm back to him. “Rope burn? Did your Dom do this to you? He deserves to be thrown out of the BDSM community if he did.”
Dom? BDSM? Oh, hell. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. I had to attend a team-bonding session with some clients and colleagues. There was a high-ropes course and I got a little scratched and bruised. I’ll get some antibiotic cream for it on my way back to the office.”
“It needs to be attended to properly not just some cream put on it. The wound has to be thoroughly cleaned and—”
“Sierra? Fergus?”
“Hi, Oscar. I just need you to sign some papers and I’ll be on my way again.”
“No you won’t. Look at her arm, Oscar. It’s infected. She ought to have it treated properly.”
Sierra opened her mouth to give them one of her court-strength “get the fuck out of my personal space” speeches. But Ambrielle shook her head. “You may as well do as they say, Sierra. Two wolves, two Doms. You’ll never get your papers signed until they clean that arm. Besides, it’ll hurt a lot less if you look after it properly.”
“Well, thank you for that advice, Ambrielle. Just side with the men, why don’t you?”
“Only when it’s going to be to my advantage to do so,” said Ambrielle, grinning.
Sierra laughed. Yes, okay, her arm did hurt. Perhaps, just this once, she’d let them bandage her up before they got down to work.
* * * *
Fergus had to force his wolf back down. When he’d assumed a man had damaged the soft flesh of the attractive attorney he’d been ready to tear the careless Dom limb from limb. Finding out she’d hurt herself accidently didn’t soothe him much though. That wound needed to be cleansed properly. Likely there were some rope fibers or dirt inside it. And then, once her arm was cared for, he’d see about touching and caring for the rest of her luscious body.
Fergus had seen Sierra around the clinic a few times, but not often. He was pretty sure Oscar usually went to her office instead of her visiting him here. But he’d heard the story of how she’d demanded Oscar’s cousin’s financial records and the man had refused to provide them, which meant his court case was denied and Oscar still controlled the clinic.
Unfortunately it seemed as if George was a sore loser and winning that day had just been Round One of what was going to be a much longer fight. Well, if it meant he could get his hands on Sierra that was fine by him—as long as Oscar kept the clinic of course. A clinic specifically for shape-shifters was very much needed. The patients he saw had often been unable to access appropriate help anywhere else.
For a brief moment he worried that perhaps Oscar wouldn’t keep the clinic, that George would win the court case. But he refused to believe that. Sierra Bond was a smart attorney. She’d make sure Oscar’s ownership was maintained and George’s lies were overruled.
Oscar took Sierra into a treatment room, and Fergus quickly set up a tray with the things the doctor would need to deal with Sierra’s arm. She sat perfectly still on the side of the clinic bed, her arm outstretched on the rolling tray. He noticed she didn’t seem tense or nervous, but when Oscar reopened the wound to clean it her mouth tightened into a thin line and she blinked a few times. Fergus could only assume it’d hurt like hell. But he was right. It was infected and Oscar used a bunch of sterilized wipes to clean the wound, then he probed it with the tweezers. Sierra was looking over Oscar’s shoulder, her face bland, but her eyes had darkened in color from a yellowy amber to a muddier brownish color. Perhaps they should have given her a local anesthetic before cleaning the area, although she struck him as being a very independent person, not someone who’d be asking for pain killers.
“There’s the culprit,” said Oscar, holding piece of fiber maybe an inch long up in his tweezers.
“That tiny thing?” asked Sierra.
“Yes, now the wound will heal. It’s not all that deep. A couple of days and it’ll be healed, but I wouldn’t go putting any pressure on it for a week.”
“Trust me, Oscar, the next time anyone tells me to go on a team-bonding course I’ll be talking them out of it.”
Fergus had to admire her feisty spirit. “You had that much fun?”
“Let’s just say I can’t wait to meet them in court.”
Oscar and Fergus both laughed. Fergus watched as Oscar coated the wound with antibiotic powder, then they covered it with a gauze bandage and taped it around her arm.
“Do you want some cream for the bruising?” asked Oscar.
“No, the bruises are already healing, but thank you. I appreciate you fixing my arm. It was quite annoying. Now, I need you to sign these papers that I came here for.”
Mentally translating “quite annoying” as “giving her hell,” Fergus again admired her spirit. Most shape-shifters were tough physical
ly, but they healed faster than humans. Here was a human woman who just carried on with her everyday life, refusing to make a fuss about something that was probably paining her quite a lot. He liked her attitude.
Fergus went to the corner of the room where she’d left her briefcase and handed it to her. Quickly she removed a sheaf of papers and held them.
Fergus took the medical equipment off the rolling tray so she could put her papers there, then helped her settle herself more comfortably so she could show Oscar where he needed to sign.
Fergus watched as she laid a bible and seal beside the papers. He wondered if he ought to leave the room, but no one asked him to, so he simply stood back out of the way where he couldn’t read any of the papers. That way they had some privacy, but he was still nearby if needed. He waited while Sierra clearly and succinctly told Oscar what each paper contained, and Oscar signed them all.
The documents were all about cementing Oscar’s right to the clinic, the land, the property itself, and to run a clinic on the property. Sierra had carefully documented every inch of the land, and Oscar’s right to it, and each step of the journey of turning the house into a clinic. Fergus was impressed with the effort she’d expended. Every tiny part of the process was detailed and documented and now sworn as accurate and honest.
There was no way George would be able to call Oscar’s right to the clinic into question now. Sierra had nailed down Oscar’s ownership in every possible way.
Then Oscar put his hand on the bible and repeated after her that he was who he said he was and that this was his signature and no one was forcing him to sign the papers, and then Sierra signed them, too, and placed her seal under her name.
Fergus was thoughtful. He hadn’t realized just how much effort was going into Oscar’s battle to retain the clinic. Sure he knew that the attorney had filed paperwork and been to court, but it wasn’t until now, when she was obviously injured and many people would be taking a few days off work to recover, that he understood Oscar was just one of her clients, and if she did this much work for him, likely she did it for them all.
We’re damn lucky we’ve gotten ourselves such a dedicated attorney. And I want to get to know her better, much better.
Sierra put all the papers back in her briefcase, but Fergus noticed she let Oscar help her down off the bed, and that for her first few steps she was moving a little stiffly.
She’s got bruises other places we haven’t seen and I bet she won’t let us see them either. She said a high-ropes course, so likely her thigh muscles are stiff from climbing. One day I’ll see those thighs. One day those legs will be wrapped around my hips and I’ll be fucking her brains out. Me and Campbell both. But first we need to get to know her. She’s just the woman for both of us to share and I want her.
Chapter Two
Fifteen years ago, as a vulnerable teenager, Campbell Smith had watched his mother die from breast cancer. He’d promised her he would become a nurse and care for ill shape-shifters as soon as he graduated high school. He’d meant every word of his promise, but it was harder than he thought to achieve it.
First, very few nurses were men. More than ninety percent were females. But he kept at it, even though sometimes he was the only male in his class. Then there was the fact of being a wolf. Wolves were not seen by the average person as being suited to the caring professions, especially not to nursing. He didn’t let that stop him either. Finally he’d thought he’d have to establish a private nursing practice so he could focus on shape-shifter patients, until the day he’d heard about the shape-shifter clinic, now called Thorne House Clinic. But at last he was doing exactly what he’d promised his dying mother he’d do, caring for ill shape-shifters.
It was a good feeling to have kept his promise. With his career all sorted out, now he was ready to get his private life sorted out. Since he’d started work here at Thorne House, he’d become close friends with one of the other nurses, another male wolf, Fergus MacLeod.
Fergus had bright red hair and was about two years older than Campbell and two inches taller than him. He was also a Dom in the BDSM scene. Cam was a sub. He’d have been perfectly happy with Fergus as his Dom as well as his friend, but Cam liked to fuck women, and he liked sex in a dungeon scene as well as in the bedroom, so they were currently looking around for a woman to join them in a ménage relationship, because Fergus also liked women.
All of which meant that his sex life right now was nonexistent. Fortunately he was extremely busy at work, so he could pour all his energy into his job, but they really needed to find a woman to share, and sooner rather than later.
So when Fergus came to him as he sat sipping half-cold coffee in the break room and asked, “What do you think of Oscar’s attorney, Sierra Bond?” Cam was pretty sure Fergus was meaning in a bedroom sense, not that he was urgently in need of legal advice.
He knew all about her winning Oscar’s court case, and he also knew she had a reputation as a hotshot lawyer, someone they termed a rainmaker, for bringing in new clients as well as winning unwinnable cases. He couldn’t really remember what she looked like, just average, he thought, but she had to be smart and personable to do so well in a tough career so he was more than happy to learn more about her.
“I can’t really picture her, but I know who you’re talking about. I do like a woman with brains, someone I can talk to as well as fuck. Although I suppose you’ll gag us in the dungeon so there’ll be no conversation there,” said Cam.
Fergus grunted at Cam’s attempt at a joke. “She’s smart all right, but also beautiful even when covered with bruises.”
“Covered with bruises? Has she been in an accident? Is she a patient here? I thought she was human.”
“She is human. She was just visiting with some paperwork for Oscar to sign. I only saw her arms, but she was moving stiffly so I know she’ll be bruised other places as well. She went climbing some high-ropes course for her job and got a bit battered. She’s tough though. She didn’t say a word of complaint even when Oscar had to prod the wound on her arm for a rope fiber.”
“Yuck. But you think she’ll be right for us?” asked Cam.
“I know she’s right for us. She’s beautiful, intelligent, and tough, exactly what we both need. I think we should ask her out on a date.”
“Fine by me. Where and when?”
“Nowhere that’ll remind her of ropes, that’s for sure.”
Cam laughed. “No seafood restaurants then. I wouldn’t want her to be frightened by a fishing net.”
“I doubt if anything less than a full-on terrorist attack would frighten her, but yes, somewhere soothing and freeing. Likely she eats out in restaurants a hell of a lot, so somewhere different.”
Different. Cam sat and thought, still sipping his now completely cold coffee. “What about that garden place? You know, they sell plants and flowers there, but they have a restaurant as well. It’s all surrounded by flowers and decorated with plants, so very relaxing and nonthreatening. I just can’t think of the name right now.”
Fergus pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and began clicking through various screens. “I know the one you mean.”
Cam finished his coffee and put his cup down, waiting patiently as Fergus scrolled down page after page on his phone.
“Here we go. Daisy’s Garden Store and Restaurant.”
“You know she probably has to work lots of evenings. You’ll need inside information on which evenings she’ll be free to go to out with us,” said Cam.
“Oh, good point. Let’s go ask Ambrielle to sound out her assistant or clerk or whoever it is who keeps her calendar.”
* * * *
Sierra had her calendar set up so she could access it using either her cell phone or her computer, and her secretary could also update it. The calendar was intricately color coded with times in court blocked out in red, time in the barrister’s rooms in blue, meetings with her clients in gold, other meetings in green, and a rainbow of colors for less important meetings and
events that could be cancelled or moved if court appointments were altered.
So she was intrigued when she checked her phone and a purple event popped up for the following night. Purple was code for “I haven’t accepted it, but I really should go if possible” and was commonly used for parties being given by important clients.
She clicked on the purple line and read, Daisy’s 8:00 p.m. Fergus and Campbell.
Fergus was the delicious redhead at the clinic, but who was Campbell? Was he a potential client? No, wait, he worked at the clinic, too. Of course that didn’t mean he wasn’t a potential client. After all Oscar was a client but…She rather thought this was a social event not a work one. Well, she’d see how she felt about it. It might be nice to spend time with the luscious man. It certainly wouldn’t be hard to sit opposite him and look at him for an hour or two.
Impulsively she clicked on it again and wrote down the cell phone number then texted Fergus—well she supposed it was Fergus, but it might have been Campbell—Thnx CU @ 8.
So what would she wear? Her arm had already started healing, but she wasn’t going to make the mistake of showing it in public yet and having anyone ask about it, not even the nurse who’d noticed it was infected. Daisy’s didn’t require a floor-length dress so perhaps she’d wear a long skirt and a jacket. That way no one would comment on her arms being covered.
Having dealt with the matter, Sierra pushed it from her mind and pulled an enormous file into the center of her desk. Oh yes, ABC Constructions. A total pain in the ass, but far too profitable to turn over to one of her associates to deal with. She stopped and a made herself a note to check back on the situation with the clinic. She was certain she had it totally under control, but she didn’t quite trust George Thorne and it was better to double-check every step of the way. Then, sighing, she opened the file to see what problem had arisen now.