Aldin's Wish
Page 4
“Cool! I’ll text you the times. Hopefully all will go well.” Candie smiles again as she stands to take her plate to the sink. “Besides, there are some really hot men coming in with this band. You could totally go for a one-night stand, Wren. It’s been too long!”
Cringing at her comment because she’s so right, I head over to the sink with my plate to rinse off before putting in the dishwasher.
“Oh I know, I’ve been going through batteries a lot more over the past few months.” We both giggle at my banter. “I could really go for a tall drink of water!”
I leave Candie to go get ready for a fun-filled day of babies. I start to hum a tune and dance like I’m insane. Well, maybe I am a little. Life’s too short for wishing and hoping for things to happen. I should know. We have to make the best of what we have.
“Whoa! Where the hell did that come from?” I scold myself. Candie must be rubbing off on me.
We’ve lived together here in Manhattan for the past five years since I graduated medical school. We met as college freshmen and have been inseparable ever since. Candie has shared some of my darkest moments, like my mother’s meltdown and admittance into the psychiatric facility. Even though our careers are vastly different, we click.
Continuing down the hall to my room and the shower that awaits, I hum the rest of the way. Maybe today will be different. Maybe tonight, I’ll meet the man of my dreams. Yeah, right. Not going to happen. Nope.
Though, some one-on-one action is what I need.
As the waterfall shower sprays down on and around my parched body, I consider all that transpired last night. Brief snippets of a massive figure with jet black, wavy hair flows through my conscience. He’s silent yet intrusive. Erotic and baffling. I only caught a brief glimpse of the shadowy figure, and then when the baby took a turn for the worse, everything changed. It didn’t make sense. In all reality, that baby should not be alive, but a miracle happened within the few brief moments I felt his presence. An angel from heaven? Why did I see him and no one else did?
It reminds me of an encounter when I was a freshman in college. I was walking home one night from the library and was jumped by two burly guys in the alley between the dorms. I screamed, but no one was around to hear me. Then out of nowhere, a dark figure rose from the shadows. He carried with him a power in the air, thick and obtrusive.
From the corner of my vision, I watched as the lone figure yanked one of the men assaulting me and tossed him through the air into the adjacent wall as if he weighed nothing. The pressure from the second attacker eased as my eyes popped wide open.
My brain couldn’t fathom what it was witnessing. The dark hero briefly looked at me and said, “Run,” as he leaned over one of the assailants. That was all the push I needed to scramble to my feet and hightail it outta there. I never spoke of what happened that night, and I never again walked home alone either. There were no reports of an attack on the news or radio. If it weren’t for the bruises on my arms from the attack, I would’ve thought it was all a horrible nightmare or I was going insane.
My mother’s suffering reminds me that I can’t think that way. That’s how mother ended up with a one-way ticket to the loony farm. I’m not going there.
I push away the thoughts. I’m obviously super tired. It was my expertise that brought that child through the critical circumstance, right? It’s the only logical explanation. Even I’m having a hard time believing it.
After washing my hair along with my cracks and crevices, I exit the shower and get ready for work.
Chapter Seven
Wren
Arriving at the hospital a little earlier than I’d planned, I have just enough time to stop at the Starbucks and grab a coffee: a mocha latte with whipped cream and a dash of cinnamon with a double shot. Just the way I like it. Mmmmm. Inhaling the chocolatey goodness, I enter the hospital and head up to the prenatal ICU.
I check in first with my preemie baby girl patient. “Lana” is posted on the card attached to her crib. Her parents named her overnight. She’s bundled up tight in her blankets, a shock of dark wavy hair showing. Instantly my thoughts lead back to the dark presence I encountered last night. Lana’s breathing is stable and she seems to have thrived overnight. It’s a miracle.
I notice her parents in the corner of the room huddled together with such tenderness and love. I move closer to speak to them. “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. McCaffrey. It seems you have a fighter.”
Even just above a whisper, my voice carries through the small room along with buzzes and blips of the monitors contained in the unit.
“Lana … I really like that name, by the way,” I go on. “She seems to be doing really well this morning. Her vitals are stable and she’s breathing rather well for a preemie. After the touch-and-go last night, I’m impressed.” I give them much deserved hope. “I’d like to do a few more tests just to make sure everything is functioning properly inside of her. I’ll need consent, of course, but it’s just routine. Like I said, she seems perfect. A miracle.” I finish up with my observation of how Lana is progressing.
Her parents seem bewildered yet hopeful. In awe and grateful, Mr. and Mrs. McCaffrey seem pleased with the good news. I’m happy to give it. After obtaining their agreement, I let them know I’ll be back later or tomorrow with the results, although some may take a few days longer. I leave the couple and go to the nurse’s station. I order the necessary tests and move along to my next patient.
I continue checking on all the babies born the day before while making my rounds to visit with parents and their new bundles of joy. No new arrivals today. So far so good.
Around lunchtime, I head to the break room for a bit of R&R, at least until I’m needed in an hour or so. I pop some lunch in the microwave, then eat the spongy-tasting cooked dinner as if it's a gourmet meal. Well, I’m trying to. Ugh! Chicken enchiladas from the freezer.
Afterwards, I find one of the semi-soft cots in the on-call area adjacent to the break room. I’m trying to relax from the hectic morning. Before shutting down and drifting off to sleep, I set my phone alarm to wake me up in an hour. A power nap will be awesome!
I jerk awake suddenly with an awareness of being watched. The same ominous feelings from the ICU last night seizes me. Scanning the room with only my eyes, I see a figure from the corner of my vision. I jolt upright as I feel big warm arms wrap around my body. Struggling to get loose, I can't see anything from the wide chest my face is thrust into. Panic floods my senses, followed by a sudden sense of peace. What the—? I calm from the warmth. My nostrils are filled with a welcome scent of masculinity, woodsy fresh and man. I close my eyes again, reveling in the sensations that are rolling through my system while a heavy hand slowly, seductively strokes my hair. I enjoy the whisper-soft presence of his voice as he holds me and quiets my fears. Before long, I succumb to the ministrations, drifting back to sleep, dreaming of a faceless mysterious man that haunts me.
Aldin
Stroking her hair softly and whispering comforting words is not something I’m used to. Not my norm. But I can’t help the feelings that are overwhelmingly clear in my mind. This woman belongs to me. I have an inherent, instinctual need to protect this fragile human woman in my arms. I can’t explain it, but I must.
After seeing the lovely doctor last night in the prenatal ICU room, I was immediately obsessed with her and knew something was different about her. She could sense me, even when I was cloaked. Only mates can feel other mates. I fled the hospital after aiding the newest member to the family. I went for another bike ride to try and clear my head. We haven’t even officially met yet, but my thoughts were owned by the mysterious Dr. Bishop. An aligning of delicate tendrils pulls me to her. I had to see her again. On the ride over this morning, I confessed to myself it was just to check on my niece, Lana. Then I saw her again. All sensibility faded away and I yearned to touch her.
Unsure of how to approach, I just watched her, carefully cloaking myself as she finished up her lunch and then took a nap in the adjoi
ning room. I watched her in fascination while she carefully rested her coat out on the chair beside the bed and set her phone alarm. I am baffled by how beautiful this creature is. No, not creature—human. Her chestnut hair was tied tightly on top of her head in a bun, a few wisps flowing down the sides of her beautiful, round face. She has an angelic face with high cheekbones and round blue eyes that compliment her overall attractiveness. She’s tall for a human woman, maybe around five-ten. And the curves of her body scream out to me, calling to me. Dr. Bishop is perfectly made for me.
I feel her stir from my induced, hypnotic sleep and drop her gently back down onto the makeshift bed. I don’t understand these feelings. Is this the mating? Have I found my true mate? Shaking my head and tucking her in, I leave Wren to her sleep. As an Enchanted Immortal Vampire, I don’t need to sleep, but humans do, and she was up late last night taking care of the newest addition to my family.
I walk away from the woman who now plagues me. I have to find out what all this means. Is it just an attraction like all the others? No. Everything is different with this woman. She calls to me like no other. Could she be my mate?
Heading down to the garage where Dr. Bishop’s car and my bike are parked, I survey my surroundings. Business matters weigh heavily on my mind along with my newest interest… “Wren.” Saying her name on my tongue fires a desire and longing within my soul.
After I carefully put on my protective gear, tightening down the flaps and zippers of my jacket and gloves, I throw my leg over the seat of my Harley. Cranking it up, I rev the engine as I pull out of my space. There are dealings that must be attended to for the moment. In a little while, my Dr. Bishop.
Later in the evening, I’m back at the hospital hiding in the shadows as I see Dr. Bishop walking towards her car. I suck in my breath from the sensual beauty she exudes. My dick stirs between my legs and I have to adjust myself. Not wearing her usual doctor attire, she’s dressed in a skirt that trails just above her knees with a pair of delicious fuck-me boots trailing down her long legs. The halter top accentuates her ample breasts with a wrap thrown around her shoulders. Her hair is a bounty of russet curls trailing round her face, shoulders and back. My fangs ache as I long to claim her as mine.
“Bollocks,” I whisper to myself. “What are you doing to me?” I’m caught in her snare.
She approaches her car and gets inside, none the wiser that she is in the midst of her greatest admirer. Starting up my bike, I wait for her to pull out so I can follow her. I long to talk to her, to get to know the woman. The longer I was away from her today, the more my mind solidified my need. I have found my true mate.
Dr. Bishop reverses from her parking spot and travels out onto the busy street. I follow closely behind, but not too close. After a few blocks she pulls into the parking garage of a popular night club—one we do business with. She exits her car and goes inside. Because I’m captivated by the attraction, I pursue with hopes of talking to my beautiful doctor. I’m smitten.
Chapter Eight
Wren
The music blasts through the speakers, caressing my body, and igniting a fire deep within. I’m still thinking about my nap at the hospital. Someone was in the room with me, treasuring me as if I was a precious jewel. A longing inspired from the encounter wraps around me, although it feels like something … other. I’m not sure about the hows or the whys, but it’s a feeling I just can’t shake. My intuition is going haywire, warning me to be cautious.
Walking around the wall of people to the opposite end of the bar, I see Candie doing what she does best: talking. She’s behind the bar flipping glass bottles and pouring drinks, all while smiling and chatting up the customers. She’s awesome.
Candie received her business finance degree from Harvard. Now, she’s co-owner of this amazing night club. I’m her silent partner. She’s a hands-on type boss and won’t ask anyone to do anything she wouldn’t do herself, always sticking to bartending, which she loves the most.
She spies me after her latest bottle flip and walks over, leaning against the bar to give me a hug. “Hey, Wren. So glad you made it.”
“Thanks, me too. I wasn’t sure, but it all worked out. I let my hair down and I’m ready to have some fun! What’s on tap?”
She nods with a warm smile. “Well, we have a couple of new things, but I think I know just what you’ll like, sista. Be right back.”
Candie walks off to make me a drink. I take a deep breath, scanning the room for prospects for the night. No one in particular catches my eye. Shrugging, I turn back around just as Candie walks toward me with a tall glass of beer in one hand and a shot of something dark in the other. Smiling brightly, she sets the beer in front of me.
“This is a new honey wheat specialty beer crafted locally. It has a sweet taste, you’re gonna love it! And this,” she adds, holding up the shot, “is top shelf whiskey and makes it a boilermaker.” She pours the shot into the beer and peers across the bar at me with anticipation.
“Alrighty then. Bottoms up!” I say as I pull the sweating glass to my lips.
I take a big gulp and set the glass down gently on the bar. The combination of beer and whiskey burn down my throat while causing a warm feeling as it settles into my stomach. I instantly feel the alcohol taking root, relaxing my tense muscles. I wipe my mouth with the napkin Candie tossed my way as my lips turn up into a crooked smile.
“That’s damn good, Candie. The beer by itself is smooth, delicious. Add the whiskey and it takes it to a whole new level.”
“Yep, I knew you’d approve. Enjoy, BFF. I’ll be back in a bit to check on you. I’m off in an hour and a half. Oh, and Wren? Try not to use the number rule when looking for a bed buddy.” Candie saunters away as I sip on my new favorite drink.
Ha! She’s crazy if she thinks I won’t. I have this number rule, as Candie likes to call it. It’s three strikes and you’re out. Pretty simple. But at the same time, it’s three yummies and you’re in. It’s my way of weeding out unwanted attention or potential stalkers. Hey, at least it works!
As I’m drinking the delicious boilermaker, I survey the crowded bar again. It was loaded when I first walked in, but now it's bursting at the seams. I catch the eye of a tall dark and handsome figure leaning against the other end of the bar sipping on what looks like the same drink I have in my hands. He appreciates my stare by holding his glass up and nodding. I can’t make out his eyes from this distance, but one corner of his mouth is turned up, anchoring me to his presence. Nodding back at him, he pushes off the bar and starts toward me.
The air sizzles and I gasp. I’m swamped by the same ominous feeling from the hospital. He’s familiar, yet unknown. I shake it off, blaming it on the beer as I watch as the most mouthwatering hunk of a man strolls my way. At first glance, I’m struck by how enormous he is. At least six-and-a-half feet tall and full of raw, male power, he’s a man that makes me feel short at my unusually-tall-for-a-woman height. Dark, unearthly eyes gaze intently toward me. Tight-fitting black jeans snuggle his muscular legs, pulled over biker boots and a black long-sleeved shirt stretched taut over an extensive chest. Yummy #1.
When he finally gets to me, he leans in and whispers in my ear, “Hello, Dr. Wren Bishop. I’m Aldin Kovac. Do you like the beer?”
Wait, what? Stalker strike #1. Apprehensively, I say, “Yes, it’s delightful. But how do you know my name? Aldin, is it?” I study him skeptically.
“Your friendly bartender helped me out.” He points with his head to Candie and her face confesses for her. She spilled the beans! Note to self: talk to Candie about keeping me out of her extracurricular conversations.
“Oh. Well, shit. Okay then. Are you having the same thing?” I clank my glass with his. His close proximity distracts me and causes lightheadedness from the power this man is wielding around me, over me, and pooling between my legs.
“Of course. After all, it comes from a distillery I own. It is exquisite.” His black, piercing eyes are stalking me, laying claim on my body.
I’m instantly attracted to his brand of alpha. Yummy #3—he’s in. Let’s hope he agrees. And as if he can read my mind, Aldin caresses my cheek and then firmly grabs the back of my neck, pulling me in to him. The connection is instant. Our lips are a hair's breadth from each other. I lick my lips, anticipating what this dominant man will do next, and I’m ready for it.
He looks into my eyes and says, “Let’s dance.”
Left feeling breathless, I guzzle down the last of my drink and follow where he leads out onto the dance floor. Our bodies move sensually together, effortlessly, as if we were made for each other. This man can dance. He moves seductively to the beat of the music, stimulating and tantalizing, never taking his captivating, dark eyes off of me. Aldin pulls me to his front, grinding his massive erection against my ass while tightly gripping my hips. It’s foreplay at its finest, claiming me, possessing me—his promise of things to come, if I accept it.
When the song Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran comes on, Aldin pulls me closer, if that’s even possible. Caressing my back in slow circles until his hands are cupping my ass, he stares down at my mouth while licking his sexy lips. The music takes us on a journey to another world, and time stands still. I’m held hostage by this big, beautiful man. Aldin moves in swiftly and seizes my mouth with his in a sensual, dominating assault. My brain explodes into a million blissful particles. Aldin continues to sway to the beat while rubbing his dick provocatively against my belly and the apex between my thighs, settling greedily there for the rest of the song.