by Misti Murphy
Synapses in my brain fired as I leaned in closer to her, drowning in her. They screamed at me to pull away, but her gravity pulled me in. Did she feel it too?
Then the guy had called out, and she’d disappeared before I’d been able to find out who she was. I massaged my neck as the man who saved me from her strode toward me.
He stuck his hand out, and I took it. "I’m Tom, the owner here. You signing up?"
"Drake. I used to box out at Lanston. It’s been a while."
"Well, why don’t you get ready, and I’ll meet you in the ring."
I grinned. "Excellent."
He pointed out the change rooms, and I went to get into my gear. Had her hair been brown, or the color of sand? Scratching my jaw, I pondered the question. I hadn’t expected to be sucker punched by the gravity of her. She was magnetic.
I changed my jeans for gym shorts and tossed my T-shirt in my bag. What had gone down could be blocked out by a good fistfight and a cold shower. Grabbing my gloves from my bag, I swung them over my shoulder by their laces and sauntered out of the change rooms. The set up here wasn’t much different from the gym I’d gone to in Lanston, but it was smaller. The guys acknowledged me as I walked past them on the way to the center ring. With any luck, I’d be part of their family before long. I just had to prove myself.
Tom was dancing around throwing air jabs when I slipped between the ropes and started putting on my gloves. The man was fit; his six pack more of an eight-pack, and his shoulders broad and well defined. I was still in good shape, but I’d lost some of the definition over the past year. Rolling out my shoulders, I stretched the muscles in my neck. That definition would come back over the next couple of weeks.
Gloves on, I tested the mat and put my hands up to guard my face.
Tom threw light punches at me, until he realized I hadn’t been talking out my ass when I’d told him I’d boxed before. He grinned as he changed his approach and made me work to keep his hits from landing.
Why had she looked so scared of me? Tom landed a clear shot to my shoulder in my moment of distraction.
"Who was that girl in here before?" I asked him as I tried to pay more attention to guarding.
He frowned at me as he swung, and I blocked him. "Birdie’s a regular here, and she’s not on the market."
I cocked an eyebrow. "So, you and her?"
He pursed his lips, and I got the distinct impression he wanted the answer to be yes. "No. She has an issue with men, though she tolerates most of us. Give her space and we won’t have a problem."
"Are you telling me that bombshell is a lesbian?" I couldn’t wrap my head around that.
Tom guffawed and put up his hands to block as I danced around him and started warm up jabs.
"Not that it’s any of your business, but I don’t think so. Still, you leave her alone, or we’re going to have a problem."
I took the opportunity to sneak a jab to his ribs. That she had issues was clear. It had been written in the open book of her eyes, and the pain that I was all too familiar with had been there too. There wasn’t enough time in the world to deal with my own issues, let alone hers. I’d just wanted someone to warm my bed. It didn’t need to be that girl. The one at the front desk would do just as well. "We're not going to have a problem."
I marked her down as another girl I didn’t have time for. Except she wasn’t, was she? She’d been smart enough to run from me, and that made her infinitely more interesting.
The rest of training went smoothly, and by the end of it I was sweaty, breathing hard, and wondering how the hell I'd let myself slip so badly. I tossed my gloves back in my bag, showered, changed, and decided to hit on the girl at the front desk.
She looked up at me from behind the desk and pinched her lip between her teeth, letting me know she was up for whatever I asked of her. But her eyes didn’t grab me like they had before, and I decided I didn’t need that second workout after all. "See you next time," I said over my shoulder as I stalked out the door.
Birdie
I dumped my bag on the edge of the mat and waved at the usual guys. Some waved back, but mostly they focused on their bags as I planned to. Strapping on my gloves, I furrowed my brow when I didn’t see the stranger among them, but I hadn’t expected to. I shook my head and started warming up. It had been two long weeks since I'd set foot in the gym. I’d gone so far as to ask Tom about the man, hoping I would be able to avoid him. He’d signed up that day I bolted from him and hadn’t established a routine yet, so I’d had no idea if I would be able to avoid him, but I wasn’t going to put off my schedule any longer. Boxing and the release of tension it brought was important to me, and I wasn't going to stop because of some man. If I saw him, I’d simply keep my distance.
I jabbed the bag. It was bad enough he’d crawled into my mind, that moment replaying over and over again. When I closed my eyes, I still saw his piercing blue eyes drilling into me. No matter how much I tried to block him out, his voice still echoed in my ears. He was dangerous, and not someone I wanted to cross paths with, because I had the feeling, he’d want more from me than I was willing to give. Shaking it off, I focused on the bag. After I got finished here, I would go to the hospital and see my brand new niece.
***
I stared through the glass window at the rows of cribs. In the back row, among the humidicribs, was my niece. Hannah had come into the world late last night via cesarean. I’d stayed at the house with Seb, snuggling up to my nephew on his twin bed. From what Orion had told me when he called to tell me Hannah had arrived, it'd been touch and go, but not as bad as Seb’s birth. I’d let out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding for those hours I’d waited and watched my nephew sleep. To think I’d spent so much time hating Clo for stringing my brother along. My heart had been in my throat all night as I prayed it would all go well. Orion couldn’t survive without her, but neither could I. She was one of my best friends.
I scanned the cribs until I found the tiny bundle capped with red fuzz. She was beautiful, and I stared at her while she wriggled and shoved her tiny fist in her mouth. My fingers caressed the glass between us.
"Hey."
I whipped around, stumbled, and fell against the window. What was he doing here? He stopped beside me, and I darted glances at the floor, the ceiling, allowing myself to catch glimpses of him but not looking at him directly. Lines around his eyes and mouth emphasized the exhaustion in his eyes, and his movements were drawn out as though his limbs were too heavy for him. He yawned, and I stared at his hand when he covered his mouth. They were cleaner than the rest of him, his fingernails short and square on long fingers. Was he an artist? His hands looked like they belonged on someone used to working with intricate detail, not the rough looking man standing beside me.
He was quiet as he stared at the babies through the viewing window, and I followed his gaze. Was one of them his? There was a heaviness in my belly that I hadn’t expected at his being taken. I should have been relieved he wasn’t interested in me, and that he was only being friendly. It made him safe, or at least, safer. "Is one of them yours?"
He inclined his head as if trying to catch the words I’d spoken. "Yes. The back row."
"Which one?" I peered at the line of humidicribs.
"All of them."
I turned so fast, my neck twinged. He stalked me with the gaze of a predator. I’d thought he was only dangerous to me. The attraction between us caught me off guard each time I came face to face with him. There was no twitch to his lip at his announcement, no twinkle in his gaze that would give away the joke. He stared at me openly, making me think he believed what he said. I’d thought he was trouble before, but now I was convinced.
"Ah, no. I know for a fact they aren’t all yours." I backed up as he advanced on me. "Leave me alone or I’ll call security."
His eyes widened, and he reached out to grab me. "Hang on, I meant—"
Flinching, I opened my mouth to scream, but he was quicker. He clamped a hand over my
mouth, stifling any noise I could make. My heart slamming, my mind went into overdrive. What was he going to do to me? Nausea hit me when he picked me up and carried me down the hall to an unmarked door. The faint smell of antiseptic covering his hand penetrated my mind, and I pushed my teeth into his skin. The bitter alcoholic taste made me want to gag. I struggled against him, but he held me with ease and kept my arms pinned to my side with his arm. If I could get one hand free, I’d show him how much Tom had taught me.
Kicking the door shut behind us, he put me down but kept his hand over my mouth. "Promise not to scream."
I nodded, and he removed his hand. What an idiot, of course I was going to. Drawing a lungful of air, I sucked in a breath and screamed. His hand hurtled back over my mouth, blocking the sound. Behind me, he moved his other hand near my ass, and I trembled. No, this wasn’t happening. My hands free, I angled my elbow and aimed at his chest. He exhaled as I jabbed him, bending from the impact, but he kept me pinned in place between his body and the hand over my mouth. "Easy, darlin’. I’m not going to hurt you."
I refused to believe him. Bringing his hand from behind my back, he dangled a lanyard in front of me. It swayed in front of my eyes as I scanned his picture and name. Dr. Drake Barclay. So, he was an obstetrician, and he’d probably delivered all those babies, but he was still holding me against my will.
"I’m going to let you go, okay? I’m not going to hurt you."
I nodded. My head swam as he let me go, and I swayed. Gripping my arm gently, he leaned me against his chest while I regained my composure. Tears stung my eyes and my body sagged into him. Hard muscle and the heat of him against my back eased the frantic beating of my heart. No, he wasn't going to hurt me.
Whirling on him, I jabbed his chest. "How dare you."
He arched back as I continued to poke him, his hands up but not defending himself. I advanced on him. "You scared the life out of me. You’re meant to look after people, not give them a heart attack. I should call the police."
"You’re right. There’s a phone over there." He pointed at the small table beside the bed in the corner, and I marched over to pick it up. My finger hovered over the buttons. I should call the police. That was the least he deserved. I glanced at him still leaning against the wall, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at me, and I put the phone down. "You don’t normally kidnap women, do you?"
My gaze narrowed as I waited for his answer. He rubbed the back of his neck and straightened. "Do I look like I do?"
"You look... dangerous."
"I’m a doctor. I deliver babies. And I didn’t hurt you, did I?" He stalked toward me.
"I guess not." No, he hadn’t hurt me, but there was a real possibility he could. "Then why did you do it?"
"A couple of reasons." He counted them off on his fingers. "One, you were about to scream outside the nursery, which would have woken all the babies. Two, I’m coming off a thirty hour shift, and I am fucking tired, and three..."
He was right in front of me, and my breath hitched as he stared into my eyes, recreating our first meeting. Unable to tear my gaze from his, I locked my knees and inhaled. Too late, I realized I could smell him beneath the antiseptic. The smell of sweat and his pheromones intermingled in an addictive combination. I leaned closer. "And three?"
"Huh?" He scrunched his brow for a second. "Oh, right. Three, I wanted to see what you would feel like in my arms."
"Oh." I licked my lips and butterflies flitted in my belly.
"And, I’m going to do it again." He hauled me against him.
"No." No, no, no. Warning bells were going off inside me. My hands fluttered on his chest torn between exploring him and punching him. "Let me go."
He stepped back but kept hold of my arms. "You’ve got a boyfriend."
"No." I trembled as gravity pulled us closer together. I should have lied. I would have been safe. Why didn’t I tell him I had a boyfriend?
He palmed my chin and tilted my head back. "There’s something else I need to know."
"What?"
My breath hitched in my throat as he lowered his face an inch from mine. "What it would feel like to kiss you."
His mouth caught mine, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Supple yet firm, his lips brushed against mine in a whisper of a caress. On the outside, I froze, waiting for him to stop, but on the inside, I was an explosion of nerve endings on fire, and molten heat stole through my muscles. So, this was what kissing was like? I couldn’t really remember my first kiss, but I was certain it had been nothing like this. He ran his tongue over my lips, and I knew he wanted me to open to him, but I couldn’t, even though I wanted to. If I let him take more, he would take everything I had, and I would be the one who would regret it.
I pushed at his chest and stumbled back when he released me. He reached out to steady me.
"Please don’t." Shaken up and spun about, I needed to get away from him. "Where’s my bag?"
He glanced behind him. My bag was near the door. I must have dropped it when he dragged me in here. Hurrying toward the exit, I scooped it up.
"Can I see you again?"
I gazed over my shoulder at him. How I wished I was the kind of girl who wouldn’t get hurt by him, but I wasn’t. I was the girl who made stupid mistakes and had to live with the consequences for the rest of her life. One innocent kiss had led to my world being turned upside down, leaving me to live with the memories of that night and the decisions I’d made because of it.
"No." I pushed through the door and into the hallway. I caught one last glimpse of Dr. Barclay as the door shut between us, leaving him staring at the spot where I’d been.
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Acknowledgments
It takes a lot to unscramble my brain and write a story readers want to read. I don't do this alone. Thank you to my children who put up with my incessant whining for writing time and actually giving me the space to do it. To my husband for letting me run ideas and scenes with him and never getting jealous of my characters.
Thank you to Sheri William's, Jennifer Ray, Jennifer Stewart, and Katrina Blake for always having time to run ideas and sort out the kinks and kinkiness.
Thank you to my editor Tami Lund who pushed me to take these characters and make them all that they could be. And finally you, yes you, the one reading this book. Thank you for picking up one of my books. I do hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. You are the best!
About the Author
Misti Murphy writes about smart, sexy women and the dirty talking alphas that love them. She also enjoys emotionally torturing them. Damaged alphas with a twist are her favorite.
When she's not writing, she's enjoying her own happily ever after with her teacher hubby, four hellions, and two fur babies. She has a weakness for chocolate, procaffinating, and stalking Facebook.