by DJ Jennings
And her head was pounding.
Everything was blurry. She reached up and—
Her glasses.
Where were her glasses?
“Nonnie?” she called out.
The curtain swept open as if moved by her grandmother’s outrage alone.
“Mara!” Nonnie declared, hobbling to her and coming in for a hug. The familiar scent of roses and baked cinnamon cookies made Mara nearly weep with relief. “My goodness, you’ve given me a scare!”
A very big, very hot, very young male doctor stood behind Nonnie, wearing a frown.
“Excuse me, Mrs.—” He frowned deeper at Nonnie. “But you don’t have permission yet to talk with the patient. Ah...” He looked at a chart. “Mara Scioto.”
“Don’t have permission?” Nonnie said, bursting with indignation. “I don’t need permission to come and see my own flesh and blood. You, on the other hand, look like you need permission to see an R-rated movie!” Nonnie’s white eyebrows and tightly permed white hairline shot up, her mouth set with determination.
No one told Nonnie what to do.
The doctor was undeterred, though. He stayed calm and in control, eyes searching Nonnie’s face to decide how to proceed. He was in command here. Not Nonnie. That was a new feeling for Mara.
He didn’t look that young. Not to Mara. In fact, if she had her glasses on, she thought she’d find he was about her age.
And cute.
Too cute.
“I’m fine, Nonnie. The shifter didn’t lay a finger—er, a claw—on me.”
Nonnie’s eyes sharpened. “Shifter?” She hit the doctor with her purse. He didn’t budge. How big was he?
Mara squinted, but her eyes wouldn’t focus enough to see his features. His head was taller than the top of the curtain, though. Tall. Taller than her.
That thought pleased her more than it should have.
“You never said a word to me about Mara being molested by a shifter!” Nonnie growled. As much as a four-foot-ten, ninety-pound woman can growl, that is.
“An untrained shifter,” the doctor declared, giving Nonnie a not-so-friendly look. “And if you hit me again, Mrs.—”
“Aielli!” Nonnie hmphed.
“Mrs. Aielli, I’ll have you removed from this hospital.” He dipped his head down to Nonnie’s level. “Are we understood?” He meant it. Nonnie stared back at him. Mara didn’t need to see their eyes.
This was one battle she could feel. Nonnie would not give in.
And neither would the doctor.
The air was charged with something more powerful than the panic of nearly being attacked by the untrained shifter.
Mara felt the blush creep up her face. Her hand fluttered up to her neck, playing with her necklace. “It was fine, Nonnie. The security team got him before he did anything. Jim was great.”
Nonnie was too busy staring at Dr....Dr...what was his name?
“Are you one of them?” Nonnie asked bluntly, giving him what looked like a glare. It was hard to tell without her glasses. Mara was so nearsighted, Nonnie once said she could see the individual crystals on a grain of sand if she held it close enough to her face, but she couldn’t read a billboard from a hundred feet.
“Nonnie!” Mara gasped. “That’s rude! That’s like asking someone their religion!” Or the size of their, well...she thought, her eyes floating down to check out the doctor’s package.
Blurry. Sigh.
“I’m Catholic,” he said in a pleasant voice.
“Probably lapsed,” Nonnie grumbled, though there was a tone there that made Mara cock her head. Was Nonnie... pleased?
“Nonnie, I’ll ask you to leave if you keep being mean to Dr... Dr... ” Mara peered intently at his name tag. It looked like an Impressionist painting.
“Jack. Jack Karsten.” He reached over and offered his hand for her to shake.
She stretched out her arm, his warm hand suddenly enveloping hers. The handshake made her entire body come alive. His hands were so big. So soft and warm and comforting and hot. What could he do with those hands on a woman’s body?
Wet warmth spread to places that were decidedly dormant. Her thighs felt like someone was licking them.
Oh, I wish he were.
Where did that thought come from?
“Hi,” she said in a breathy voice. “So why am I here?” She squinted again. Damn. Of all the times to lose her glasses.
Dr. Jack Karsten seemed as reluctant to let go of her hand as she was to pull away. So they kept pumping.
Ah... not that kind of pumping. But suddenly she wished Nonnie would disappear and Jack would climb in her bed.
And lick her thighs.
“You’re here because you fainted,” he said.
“I fainted? From the attack?”
She looked in the direction of his head. Brown. He had brown hair, and lots of it, framing a wide, strong face.
He nodded. “They sedated the new shifter. He’ll be sent off to camp.”
Nonnie snorted. “I should certainly hope so. Untrained shifters who haven’t gone through their proper month of training at Camp Shifter are a menace to society! And you never answered my question, doctor. Are you a shifter?”
He cleared his throat and paused. Mara could feel him inhale slowly, then exhale. It was as if he breathed for her in those seconds. It was as if she truly came alive for the first time.
Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away from his. The answer to Nonnie’s question was too important. it was, in fact, the most important question in the world.
“No,” he said without emotion. “I am not.”
Mara exhaled, the sound so loud and full of obvious relief that Nonnie burst into gravelly laughter. Mara didn’t need to see her grandmother’s face right now. Her eyes would be filled with mirth.
“Thank goodness,” Nonnie cackled. “My granddaughter seems to agree.” Nonnie’s bony fingers wrapped around Mara’s biceps as Mara struggled to manage her emotions, her face flushing, heart pounding.
A monitor began beeping.
“Your heart rate just spiked,” Dr. Karsten said, his voice filled with amusement. He made her wet. He made her want to strip naked and kick Nonnie out of the sterile hospital room and have him make love with her for hours, naked and writhing and hot and frantic and yum.
Instead, she sat there, trying so hard not to let either of them know all the erotic thoughts that invaded her brain. Which were all the erotic thoughts. Every single one of them.
In the whole wide world.
All she could do was look down at her hands and mutter, “Well, thank goodness I don’t have to be attacked by you, then, as you seek out a mate.”
Every molecule in the room froze.
Nonnie’s hand on her arm paused. Her little body began to tremble with repressed laughter. Something metal and glass slid across her hand.
“Here, Mara. I brought you your spare pair of glasses. And I need to go to the powder room now. I’ll be back shortly,” she said pointedly.
Mara looked up as Nonnie hobbled out, her form blurred and slow.
Oh, no.
Had Mara actually just said that?
The doctor stood, immutable like a wall. He said nothing.
He didn’t even breathe.
Slowly, with a painful embarrassment that made her want to crawl into a cave and hibernate forever, she put on her glasses.
And looked up.
Into the most gorgeous set of eyes attached to a heart-poundingly hot man.
Intelligent attraction radiated back at Mara, his eyes a deep, rich brown with flecks of amber around the pupils, which were slightly dilated. He had the wide cheekbones of a very muscular man. With her glasses on now, she could take him in.
He was enormous.
His white lab coat was tight around the shoulders and arms, outlining a broad, muscled back and the arms of a man who did manual labor. His chest was wide and strong. He could block out the sun, and clearly towered over her own fairly
large, five-foot-ten frame.
Yet those big hands were so soft...
Bear.
If he were a shifter, he would be a bear.
Mara shuddered. A sudden memory of the untrained bear shifter who mauled her two years ago rushed into her memory.
And her heart rate spiked.
Dr. Karsten moved faster than any man that size had a right to maneuver, by her bedside in under a second, fingertips on her wrist, then neck, the touch making her nearly moan with pleasure. This was so confusing. How could she keep two completely different thoughts in her mind at the same time?
How could she remember the trauma of the untrained bear shifter event and be so turned on by this doctor touching her?
It didn’t make sense.
It didn’t have to.
Because it was happening, whether Mara liked it or not.
“Ms. Scioto? What’s happening to you? Tell me.”
“Call me Mara.”
“Mara,” he said. Her name sounded like warm hot fudge pouring out of that nice, strong mouth.
“I’m fine.”
He chuckled, fingertips on her wrist, making her wish they’d visit every square inch of her body. “Mara, you’re anything but fine. Tell me what’s going on. Your heart rate is spiking and you look like you’re close to syncope again.”
“Sing-go-what?”
“Syncope. Fainting. Medical term.”
“Oh.” The way he looked at her, with those kind, compassionate eyes. The restrained tension in that huge body, so powerful yet tamed. The cut of his pants across his hips as his lab coat draped open. The hint of aftershave that wafted from his neck and jaw as he bent to grab her chart.
Oh, my.
What was wrong with her?
“I’m just remembering a previous shifter attack,” she whispered, trying desperately to cover up her obvious arousal for Dr. Karsten. She looked down at her own curvy, full figure. He was cut and fine, like an army ranger blown up to the size of a small hulk. Guys like him didn’t date women like her.
Unless they were untrained shifters on the prowl.
He tensed at her words. “Previous attack. You were attacked before. Yes, it’s in your medical files.” The tone in his voice held something more than surprise. Was she imagining it?
Was he being protective?
“Yes. Two years ago. At the library desk.”
He frowned. She took it as a sign of confusion.
“I’m a librarian at the main library downtown. I work the circulation desk at night, mostly. Handle the interlibrary loan shipments and organize all the requests. We’re right next to the police station,” Mara started to explain.
His tension released a bit. “That’s good.” His eyes jumped from monitors to the chart. “That’s safer.”
“Except for the ex-cons visiting their parole officers next door.”
His body tightened. He was so muscled. Her eyes watched his shoulders hunch in reaction to her words. It was fascinating. How his body loosened and tightened was a barometer of his emotional state.
“And the ex-cons come over to the library for... what? To read Hemingway?”
She couldn’t help the outburst of laughter that poured out of her. “Mostly to watch porn on the computers,” she said through giggles, “though you’d be surprised. Some of the ex-cons love Rick Moody and Jonathan Franzen.”
“Felons with a taste for literary fiction. Learn something new every day,” he said drolly. “And I just learned something about you.”
He looked down at her, his face less than a foot from hers, and smiled.
The world brightened, as if it had been on a dim setting and now was turned all the way up.
Turned all the way on.
Oh, holy hell, he was angelic when he smiled. It was like Dr. Karsten was the only face Mara ever needed to see for the rest of her life.
“What?” she gasped. “What did you learn?”
“Your heart rate goes back to normal when you laugh,” he said, pulling his fingertips from her wrist.
It felt like a part of her died when he stopped touching her.
“Hmmm,” was all she could say.
“And...” He hesitated, as if he weren’t sure whether to say the next part.
“Yes, doctor?”
He blinked a few times and paused his writing on her chart. Clicked the pen three times, then said, “Call me Jack.”
“Jack.” His name felt like a prayer when she said it.
“And your heart rate spikes when I’m close to you. Especially when I touch you.”
Busted.
His eyes met hers. There was no question in his words. He knew what he was saying and knew the implications.
Mara was speechless.
Just then, another doctor walked into the room. He was an older man with salt-and-pepper hair, and nearly as short as Nonnie. Bright brown eyes and a face covered with moles. The man looked old enough to be her father, if her father were still alive. He smelled like cloves and oranges.
“Is that because you’re afraid of doctors? After your last attack?” Jack’s voice went from a sultry, sensual tone to all business, as if someone had flipped a switch. Long gone was any hint of flirting.
Mara felt confused. Hot, aroused, and confused as hell.
“Ms. Scioto,” the new man said, “I’m Dr. Paranatha. I’m the attending physician and am here to assist Dr. Karsten. Dr. Karsten?”
Jack went into a short speech about her. “Mara Scioto. Twenty-four. Librarian who was attacked by an untrained shifter. Untouched, but experienced an episode of syncope...” As his clinical words describing her case poured out of him, Mara watched. Just watched.
He was young, like Nonnie said.
He was also everything Mara didn’t want in a man.
Too bad, a voice inside her head whispered. Because he’s the one.
A machine began beeping again. Dr. Paranatha turned his back to her and examined it. Mara looked at Jack.
Who winked.
Chapter 4