by T. S. Ryder
Moments later, voices came from the corridor. The door had been left open a crack, and, peering through it, she could see the man that Dr. Wolfe had been at the benefit ball with. She chewed her lip, wondering if she should listen to their conversation.
"It's completely inappropriate," the man said, his voice low and angry. "I've done my best to stay out of your personal life except when you shove it in my face, but sleeping with a patient? She could sue you and the clinic and she'd be complete—"
"Clint, she wasn't my patient when we left that party together." Dr. Wolfe's voice was low, calm, and even. "It was a one-night stand. She wasn't my patient. Now that she is my patient, there will be nothing that happens between us. If it makes you feel better, then I will have a nurse sit in with us whenever Miss Flores has an appointment with me."
Lana's face burned with embarrassment. Just when she thought this couldn't get more awkward. Now some man in blue scrubs had to start poking his nose into it, making a bigger deal out of it than it was. She wanted to go out there and tell him it was none of his business – that she and the doctor had already resolved the issue. Yet, she was stuck to her seat. She had a shy, submissive personality and didn't do well with confrontations.
"Simon—"
"Don't push this," Dr. Wolfe warned, his tone dropping. "She is a patient. We are not sleeping together. End of story."
Clint was silent for a moment before he nodded. "That better be the end of it. Friend or no friend, if you start seducing patients, I'm reporting you to the medical board."
Lana gasped, pressing her hands to her mouth.
Luckily, the men hadn't heard her. Dr. Wolfe spoke again, his voice even deeper. The anger was apparent in his tone. "I know that you're only saying that because you're concerned for the patient. But if you ever show such lack of faith in my professionalism again, then you will be looking for a new job. I consider you my best friend, yes, but that doesn't mean I will tolerate character assassination."
If it was Lana, she'd be backing down, but Clint was apparently made of stronger stuff. "I will question your professionalism every time it needs to be questioned. In case you haven't noticed, you're not exactly the best—"
The door shut suddenly, like one of them had just realized it was open. Lana pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to ignore the thoughts racing in her head. Had he had an affair with a patient before? Was that why this Clint was so determined to ensure there was nothing between her and Simon?
She smoothed her hair as the door opened again. Clint, his pale skin flush with anger, came in. She tried to pretend like she hadn't heard the conversation as he set up another appointment for her. But she couldn’t get rid of the embarrassing red in her face, nor could she stop herself from thinking that maybe, just once, it would be okay to have a breach of professionalism . . .
Chapter Four – Simon
"Hurry!" the brunette hissed at him as headlights pulled up the driveway.
Simon languidly yawned, then opened a window that wasn't visible from the garage. "Relax, sweetheart. I came naked; I'll leave without a trace. If you're so worried about your husband finding you here—"
The brunette – her name escaped him at the moment, but she was something like Candy or Cindy – shoved him out the window. She slammed it shut. Moments later, Simon heard shower water running. He chuckled to himself as he sat naked behind a hedge of bushy bleeding heart flowers. Normally, he didn't like to get shoved out windows and, despite his reputation, he normally avoided married women. It just so happened that Cherry's husband was a member of a rival clinic, and Simon knew for a fact that he had three mistresses on the side. He was just helping to even the score.
He shifted when he heard the shower turn off, loping off into the night. His mottled black and brown fur gave him ample camouflage in the darkness, although when he passed a few houses, dogs started barking. Sheila had been quite adventurous that night. He grinned to himself as he headed home, but the grin faded from his face soon enough.
Sharon – that was her name – had just been a distraction. One that he had been needing ever since he came into his office and found Lana Flores: his patient. His stomach knotted as he thought of that beautiful young woman having such a horrible disease. He had amazing results with his patients so far, but she was so young.
It explained why she hadn't wanted him seeing her breasts when they had sex, though. Even though her file indicated that it was a deep tumor, meaning there were only slight dimples in the breast itself, she clearly didn't want to be reminded of it when they were just going to have some fun together.
He was always able to put patients from his mind when he got off work. He was compassionate, yes, but he never got emotionally attached. Just like with his lovers – although he actually remembered the patients' names. But, for some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about Lana.
He shook his head as he got home, trying to throw her from his thoughts. The lights inside his place were on and his ears twitched forward. Getting closer, he saw Clint's car in the driveway. His nurse was probably the only person he considered a friend and had given him his keys for emergencies. So what was he doing here?
Grinding his teeth, Simon trotted behind the garage and slipped through the doggy-door he'd built in for himself. Once in the garage, he dressed quickly and unlocked the house. If Clint was just going to let himself into the house whenever he felt like it, then Simon would take that key back. He found the nurse in the living room, two open pizza boxes on the coffee table, the credits for a movie playing on the widescreen television.
Simon winced. Right. They were supposed to have a movie night. Lana had filled his thoughts so much that he had completely forgotten about his friend.
"Movie's done," Clint said shortly. "Spoiler, the hero dies saving the world, but the girl has his baby and names it after him."
Simon sat on the couch and grabbed a slice of pizza. "I forgot."
"I can smell that." Clint leaned over and sniffed. Damn him for having the most sensitive nose in the pack. "That's Jennifer Blossom, isn't it?"
"Naw, it's Shauna, right?" Simon frowned. "Or Cheryl. Jennifer?"
Clint rolled his eyes. "You really disgust me sometimes, you know that? It's bad enough that you go around sleeping with dozens of women, but would it kill you to remember their names?"
"Hey, her husband's just as bad. They're only married for the money. It's no wonder why divorce rates are so high when these humans keep marrying people they don't even like."
"Stop acting like you're completely blameless," Clint snapped. "If you had any—" He cut himself off and stood. He paced away and stared out the window for a moment. "It's like I don't even know you anymore, Simon. We were best friends all our lives, and then you hired me and I thought it would be like old times. But you're completely different."
Simon scowled. He didn't need a lecture. "And you're a stick in the mud."
"I'm worried."
Simon scoffed. "Worried about what? That I'm enjoying my life?"
Clint turned back to him. His face was hard, much unlike the normally open, friendly expression that he wore. "Worried about these self-destructive habits that you have. Ever since Katie—"
"Don't talk to me about Katie," Simon snarled, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.
"Ever since she died, you've been distant, arrogant, and cruel," Clint pressed on. His hands were clenched at his sides, and Simon knew that he wasn't going to let it go that easily. "You decided to be a doctor so you could help people. You wanted to make their lives better."
Simon pointed at the doctorate on his wall. "That piece of paper means that I am making lives better. I'm giving families more time with their loved one. I am making serious headway against a terrible disease."
"You also go through women like paper napkins. You use them and then throw them away like they're nothing. God forbid that they start developing feelings because then you have to make sure they know they're not worth your time." C
lint's eyes were glowing, the tell-tale sign that he was on the verge of shifting and lunging at him. "You don't care who you hurt and what marriages you break up."
Simon snorted and turned his back. They'd been over this before, and he was done talking about it. Bringing up Katie was crossing a line, and Simon wasn't about to let Clint manipulate him into feeling guilty for things he shouldn't have to feel guilty about. When they were teenagers Clint was just as bad at chasing skirts, but now that he was mated and had kids, he was in a position to look down at the men who continued that time-honored tradition?
"Have you even visited her grave since the funeral?" Clint's voice was soft, but it woke fury in Simon anyway.
"This is none of your business!"
"Katie told me she was worried about how you'd react to her death. She wanted me to look out for you."
Simon clenched his fists to avoid swinging at Clint. Right now, he didn't feel much like a friend, a fellow pack mate, or even an employee. The guard hairs on Simon's arms stood on end. He narrowed his eyes, his muscles trembling. An open, raw pain sliced through his chest. What right did Clint have to come into his home and put him through this sort of pain?
"Get out," Simon growled, claws forming at the ends of his fingers, canines sharpening in his mouth. ''Get out!"
Clint stared at him for a moment before grabbing his coat. He moved slowly, so slowly that Simon was tempted to just grab him and toss him out on his ass. His fists shook with fury and his whole body was rigid. If he moved, he might just snap. He tracked Clint's movements as he left the room. As soon as the other Wolf was gone, something inside him eased.
Simon stomped into the kitchen and pulled a vodka from storage. He quickly made himself a martini, his hands shaking as he did so.
There was nothing wrong with what he did. Other people did it all the time and Clint didn't go hounding them about their actions. Hell, Clint had quite a reputation as they grew up. It wasn't like he was some sort of sinless saint. The girls he had been with could probably tell a few stories. So why was it different for Simon?
He gulped his martini down and made another one. A tremor moved up his arm, and he growled, flexing his fist. Phantom pain flashed through his knuckles. When Katie had gotten sick, he had beat the wall so many times he almost lost his position at the hospital. Her death had nearly ruined him in more ways than one. He had found a way to live without her. Why couldn't Clint just leave it be?
Katie had been human. Dark curls, dark eyes, and a smile like sunshine. He met her when they were both in elementary school, and from that moment, he knew she was his mate. It took a bit of convincing over the years. During high school, he had started to doubt it himself and played the field a little, but he always circled back to her.
And now she was gone.
As he sat drinking his second martini more slowly this time, Lana suddenly intruded into his thoughts. Her mischievous green eyes and bubblegum lips. The knot in the pit of his stomach eased a little and he closed his eyes. Her naked body appeared in his mind's eye and he smiled. A tightness built in his loins as he remembered that night in the hotel: tearing her clothes off, how meek and submissive she had been towards him.
The desire to call her and ask if he could come over had him reaching for his phone before he could stop himself. His hand froze inches above the phone.
He knew her too well. There was always distance between himself and his lovers. A bit of mystery. They weren't fully realized persons, only fantasies that he could escape into. They didn't have children. They didn’t have deadly diseases. They weren't patients.
Besides that, he was her doctor. That automatically made any further sexual relationship impossible between them. He was her doctor and it simply wasn't appropriate.
That didn't stop his desire to call her. It burned into his palm like the cellphone was seeping radiation into him. He pulled his hand back. It wasn't right.
Her laugh sounded in his ears, so audible that he had to check to make sure he was alone. He was, of course, but that didn't comfort him. Simon let out a deep sigh. It didn't hurt to fantasize a little bit, did it? Wonder about what she was doing right now.
Had she enjoyed their night together as much as he did? What other lovers did she have? A swell of jealousy rose in him just thinking about that, but he pushed it aside. Only for another swell of pain to rise. His mind flashed to Katie, and a raw wound opened in his chest again. He grabbed his phone and dialed a number. He hadn't seen one of his former nurses – Maria? Mandy? – for quite some time.
"Hey," he greeted her when she answered. "What are you doing tonight?"
Chapter Five – Lana
The sound of whimpering woke Lana. The room was utterly dark, but there was a shuffling at the foot of her bed indicating movement. A soft scraping on the carpet and another whimper. It sounded like an animal. A dog? The covers tugged to one side, and then a soft weight on her feet. Adrenaline shot through Lana's body. With one hand, she grabbed the baseball bat she kept by the side of the bed, and with the other, she turned on the lamp beside her bed.
She uttered a short cry, jumping out of bed. There were two wolves in her bed. Or rather, wolf pups. The two furry bundles yipped and tumbled back over the bed, onto the other side. Lana stared, jaw hanging slack. Her hands gripped the bat, held up in preparation. How had two puppies gotten into her bedroom? She checked the window. Closed. The door was closed as well.
The two wolves started to howl plaintively. Lana edged around the bed, keeping the baseball bat on hand in case the mother was somewhere around as well. The sound of the howling changed, and by the time she rounded the bed, it had turned into the sobbing wails of two little girls.
Elaine and Evie sat on the floor, their golden hair braided as Lana always did for bedtime, faces scrunched up and red as they cried. Lana gasped. She managed to push aside her shock long enough to gather her twins onto the bed and start soothing them.
"Mama scared me," Evie sobbed.
"I'm sorry." Lana kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't recognize you. I've never seen you as puppies before."
Her stomach twisted as the girls still sobbed. Shifters. Her daughters were shifters. Which meant that the anonymous donor that was their father was a shifter. Wasn't that something the hospital could have told her? She understood not giving her his full file since he wanted to be anonymous, but this was something that had a huge impact on both her and her daughters . . .
Kari came to knock on the door a few moments later, asking about the noise, but Lana didn't tell her what she had just discovered. She didn't know how to handle it herself yet. After her step-sister left and the girls fell back asleep, Lana slipped out of her bed and grabbed her cell phone. She padded into the bathroom and called Dr. Wolfe. He was a shifter. He'd be able to help her with this.
It was only after he answered that she realized what a stupid thing it was for her to do. For starters, there was no reason why he should be at his office – why was he at his office at this time of night? – and he didn't want to become involved in her personal life. He was her doctor. Nothing else.
"Hi," she said awkwardly. "This is Lana Flores."
"Miss Flores." The doctor's voice was pleased but confused. "What can I do for you?"
"Uh . . . " She wanted to hide her face in her hands as the silence stretched on, but, considering that he couldn’t see her, it would only make the silence linger longer. "Um . . . it's about . . . Well, it's not about my medical condition. It's personal."
A pause. "Go on."
Was it her imagination, or did he sound even more pleased? It must be her imagination.
Fumbling with her words, Lana explained what had just happened with her girls. When she finished, Dr. Wolfe was silent. Lana swallowed hard. "I'm sorry for calling you. I just sort of panicked. I didn't know their father was a shifter, so I wasn't expecting this. I thought about you because you're a shifter, too. I thought you might be able to direct me to some sort of . . . I don't know
– shifter group for children?"
As she finished, she realized that it was a lie. She wasn't looking for information about shifters. She had wanted to hear his voice and have him reassure her that everything was going to be fine. Her girls being shifters was unexpected, but as long as she didn't bar them from their heritage, it would be fine, wouldn't it? But she knew very little about shifters and their culture.
"I don't know about anything geared to children myself," he said slowly, "but I’ll tell you what. You can bring your girls and meet me at the shifter cultural hall tomorrow. I have appointments all morning, but I'm free after three."
Relief washed over her. Lana closed her eyes, fighting back the desire to thank him over and over again. She wasn't going to fall into becoming some hysterical, sobbing woman every time she felt any little emotion. It was bad enough that she had called him in the middle of the night.
"Thank you," she said, just once. "I'm sorry to disturb you so late."
"It wasn't a disturbance," Dr. Wolfe replied kindly. "I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to get more work done. I'll see you tomorrow."
He hung up and Lana let out a sigh. Tomorrow. She went back to bed and her two girls crowded in next to her. The fact that they had been wolves mere moments before still stunned her, but she relaxed as she pulled them closer. They were still her girls, and it was just that she had to learn more about them. She smiled as she stroked their soft hair. Tomorrow, she would begin to plan on how to handle this unexpected development in her life.