The Highest Bidder

by Chanta Rand

  “I was impressed with you today,” he admitted. “You were professional and cool. You didn’t melt under pressure. You didn’t flinch when the women showed you their burns. And even better, you didn’t get sick and throw up, like a lot of women would.”

  She looked at him incredulously. If that was intended to be a compliment, it wasn’t even in the same ballpark. He came across like an offensive, sexist Neanderthal trying to communicate with human females in the twenty-first century. Apparently, Mrs. Gonzales’ husband isn’t the only one who needs to be strangled. “Of course I didn’t throw up! This is what I do every day for a living, Dr. Silva.” She placed her hands on her hips. “I’m a physician with impeccable credentials. I graduated in the top of my class. I am not your lackey to order around. And if you ever speak to me like you did earlier today – ”

  He stepped forward and placed a finger over her lips, effectively silencing her. “Forgive me,” he said staring at her with those dark eyes. “I meant no harm. I have been away from American women for so long, I have forgotten how to interact. Have dinner with me tonight. Let me make it up to you.”

  She pushed his hand away. “I’d rather chew on razorblades.” She brushed past him and immediately headed for the back door. Why did men always offer dinner as a solution to the world’s problems? Didn’t they know food was the way to a man’s heart – not a woman’s?

  As she reached for the doorknob, she heard a loud crash near the front of the clinic. She took one look at Dr. Silva’s stunned expression and she knew something was wrong. Dogging his heels, she followed him as he hurried to the front room, only to run smack into his back when he stopped abruptly in his tracks. She recovered quickly and tried to stand beside him, but he restrained her with one strong arm, forcing her to stay behind him. Agitated with him and frustrated by her own weakness, she blew out an exasperated breath, the force of it so hard it ruffled his hair like a strong wind. He was a full foot taller than her, so she couldn’t see over his shoulder. She compensated by peering around the side of his broad arm, feeling like a child watching events unfold from her hiding place.

  Her agitation quickly transformed to fear as she realized why he was holding her hostage behind his back. He was protecting her from the barbarian looming in the doorway. Intimidating couldn’t begin to describe him. He stood with his giant legs wide apart like tree trunks. His features were all large: big nose, broad mouth, obtuse chin, widespread eyes. There were shards of splintered wood around him, and pieces that had once resembled a door hung precariously from its hinges. That must have been the crash they’d heard. He’d kicked the damn door down!

  She huddled behind Dr. Silva, wondering who this man was and what could he possibly want? When he spoke, his thick tongue made his words sound muffled. His accent was even thicker. “Where is she?” he demanded.

  As soon as he asked, Alexa knew. So, this was the man who took his anger and jealousy out on helpless women. It was Mrs. Gonzales’ husband. She felt nothing but disgust for him. She would have spit in his face, even though she knew he could probably crush her skill with his pinky finger.

  “She’s not here,” Dr. Silva told the man. “We released her earlier today.”

  “You should not have treated her,” he snarled.

  “It’s our duty as doctors. We cannot turn anyone away. Nor do we wish to.”

  The man took a step forward; the sound of his footstep echoed like an earthquake.

  Alexa felt the muscles in Dr. Silva’s back tighten. “Don’t worry,” he assured the man. “No one reported it. After we tended to her, she left.”

  “I don’t believe you! I know she’s here somewhere.” The man suddenly lunged forward, and Alexa jumped from behind Dr. Silva. It looked as if they were both going to get plowed down by this depraved lunatic!

  Instead, the angry giant stormed past them and began searching each room. She could smell sweat, liquor, and cigarette smoke on him. She wondered what else he’d consumed. The wild look in his eyes could have easily been due to the influence of cocaine. As a doctor, she was trained to look for signs of drug use. If he was high, there was no telling what he’d do next.

  Apparently he didn’t give a shit about their precious medical supplies. He knocked over equipment, threw boxes of medicine to the ground, and broke a mirror. As a further insult, he turned over all the beds and rifled through the cabinets. Seeing nothing, he turned his venom on them. “You screwed with the wrong man. Do you know who I am?”

  At that moment, Alexa noticed that his dark trousers were plain, but his blue shirt looked like it was part of a uniform. A black insignia with three gold stripes decorated the shoulder. Dr. Silva was right. He was a member of the Polícia. Dear God. Please don’t let him kill us!

  “I told you, she’s not here,” Dr. Silva stood firm. “We patched her up and sent her on her way. We were just finishing up for the day.”

  “Who brought her here?” the man demanded.

  “I don’t know.”

  He turned to Alexa. “What did they look like?”

  She stammered. “I … I … don’t remember.”

  “You lie!”

  Dr. Silva defended her. “Over a hundred patients came to the clinic today. She can’t be expected to remember each person.”

  The behemoth eyed Alexa with a mixture of hatred and lust. “Maybe I should take you with me until I find her.” He moved menacingly toward her and she instinctively backed away.

  “You’re not taking her anywhere,” Dr. Silva threatened.

  The man pulled up his shirt, exposing the corpulent flesh of his huge belly. A large gun sat snugly in his waistband. “Shut up, unless you want to taste a bullet.”

  Alexa froze. They were dealing with a madman. He was obviously used to getting his way, no matter what the consequences. Well, she’d be damned if she’d let herself become his next victim. His wife might have to suffer his abuse, but she certainly didn’t. If he tried to move her even one foot from this clinic, she would fight him every step of the way. She would do whatever it took, including biting him, scratching his eyes out, kicking him in the–

  “Sergeant Gonzales!” she heard a voice bellow. She turned to see a group of police officers standing in the doorway. One of them, she assumed the leader, stood in front of the group with a stern look on his face. He had the same dark, curly hair as Dr. Silva. And no doubt, the same arrogance. “Get your ass out of here and back to the station,” the leader ordered.

  The madman immediately came to attention and saluted. “Sí, Capitan.”

  “And don’t let me catch you back here disrupting the work of this clinic,” the Captain reprimanded him. “If you treated your wife better, none of this would have happened.”

  Alexa watched as the huge brute walked away, joining the group of officers at the door. In one split second, his entire demeanor had changed from a deranged psychopath to an obedient soldier. And it was simple as that. All of the men departed without saying one word. No apology. No offer to clean up the mess.

  Alexa breathed a sigh of relief when she realized the clinic was empty again.

  “Are you alright?” Dr. Silva asked.

  “Yeah,” she shook her head. “But for a minute, I thought we were both dead.”

  “Oh, you were never in jeopardy of dying,” he told her.

  “You could have fooled me.”

  “You’re too pretty to kill. He would have probably just kept you as a sex slave.”

  She opened her mouth to object, but then realized he was only trying to lighten the mood with his brand of dark humor. She indulged him. “And here I was worried for nothing.”

  “Men like Sergeant Gonzales are part of the many hazards of working here.”

  “You mean that’s happened before?”

  “Yes, but not with him. Other men have come here upset that we’ve treated their women. Over the years, I’ve become used to it.”

  She shook her head. “No wonder you were so calm.”

&nbs
p; “I wouldn’t say that. My heart was thundering inside my chest.”

  “Well, at least you knew what to do. You stood up to him.” It occurred to her that if Dr. Silva had not been there, that beast might have succeeded in carrying out his threats. “And you protected me,” she added. “Thank you.”

  “So, does that mean you like me now?”

  “You’re okay.”

  “And you’ll have dinner with me?”

  “Don’t push it,” she said walking away. She was tired and all she could think about was going to sleep. She didn’t think the madman would be back. She knew he wouldn’t disobey his captain. “I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted, and this has been one hell of a day.”

  “Alexa!” he called after her. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see him give her a charming grin that nearly knocked her off balance. “I’ll see you tomorrow, doctor,” he said.

  Despite her anger, she had to grin. She had a real life Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde on her hands. She didn’t know which one was worse: The uptight and rude Dr. Silva or the charismatic rascal with the disarming smile. If she had to spend the remainder of her time in Brazil helping him, one of them was going to be in a world of trouble. It remained to be seen who it would be.

  * * *

  That night, she dreamt of Tristan. No words were spoken between them, but the smoldering look in his eyes told her how much he desired her. He captured her lips, branding her with the heat of his hot kiss. Like a fine wine she sampled the taste of him, savoring the flavor of his tongue. Her body immediately responded to him, letting itself be shaped and molded by his tender caresses. Her fingers gripped the firm lines of his buttocks. He felt so good. So right. She welcomed him inside and held on tight as she rode a cloud of heavenly bliss. He played her body like a cello. A symphony of music began inside her as sweet notes of ecstasy finally exploded into a crescendo of thunderous beats.

  Her scream shattered the air, abruptly waking her up. Her breathing was heavy and labored. She heard her own quick bursts of breath as she struggled to calm her racing heartbeat.

  “Alexa, are you okay?” It was Max’s voice calling out in the darkness.

  Alexa steadied the rocking hammock. Tristan had managed to find her even in the remote villages of Brazil. It seemed her mind would never be free of him. These reoccurring fantasies had become a part of her life now. She just had to learn to deal with it – and the fire between her legs each time it happened. “I’m fine,” she told Max. “It was just a bad dream. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next day, Alexa was determined to work even harder. She beat Dr. Silva to the clinic by twenty minutes. When he came through the door, she was chatting with Max and Gary while sipping from a cup of Brazilian blended coffee – the one luxury she’d quickly learned she couldn’t do without. Thankfully, Max knew some local harvesters who were happy to supply the coffee beans – for a very small fee. Of course, that was to be expected. These days, you couldn’t get anything for free, except bad advice and contagious diseases.

  “Good Morning, Alexa,” Dr. Silva said as he approached the group.

  So, Dr. Jekyll was making an appearance this morning? She guessed that by midday the evil Mr. Hyde would show up and make her life a living hell again. “Good Morning,” Alexa replied.

  “I’ve brought some clean lab coats for everyone,” he announced. “My housekeeper laundered them last night. Feel free to take one.”

  Max almost choked and Gary’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “Thank you,” they all murmured in unison.

  As soon as Dr. Silva left the room, Max spoke up. “What did you do to him?” she whispered.

  “Me?” Alexa asked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You were the last one here last night. When I left, he was still in his surly mood.”

  “We had a visitor who came in mad as hell because we treated his wife. He threatened to kill me unless we told him where his wife was. Dr. Silva handled him like an expert. I guess he feels like we bonded or something.”

  “I’ve never seen him so nice,” Gary said. “I think he has the hots for you.”

  Alexa dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s just an overgrown bully trying to save face after we bumped heads earlier.”

  “Next thing you know, he’ll want to bump more than just heads with you.”

  “Ugh,” Alexa shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

  “Okay,” he shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “We could use this to our advantage,” Max suggested. “Alexa, maybe you could talk to him and tell him to take it easy on us. He’s got the others walking on eggshells. Also, our beds haven’t arrived yet. See if you can ask him to speed up the process.”

  “Why me? You’ve got more pull than I do.”

  “Like Gary said, he obviously likes you. What will it hurt to try?”

  Alexa watched Dr. Silva pass through the adjoining room. His manner was cheerful, a total one-eighty from yesterday.

  Was he humming to himself?

  As he slipped on his lab coat, she saw his large biceps strain against the sleeves of his shirt. She hadn’t noticed before, but the man was in great shape. She studied him for a few quick moments. Thick lips and an aquiline nose hinted at his mixed lineage. He was definitely easy on the eyes. Too bad his abrasive personality overshadowed his good looks. She wondered what her friends would think of him. If Jade were here, she would have told Alexa to think like a man, throw caution to the wind, and have sex with him. No, she chuckled to herself. If Jade were here, she would have probably jumped his bones the minute she saw him – regardless of his bad attitude.

  “C’mon, Alexa,” Gary urged her. “Take one for the team.”

  His words snapped her back to reality. She’d let the Board of Directors at Mercy persuade her to do the same thing with Tristan – and look how that turned out. Disaster was too weak a word to describe what happened. She’d tried to be a team player and in the end, she’d ended up miserable and alone. “Nope,” she said. “I think it’s best to steer clear of that man.”

  Max teased her. “Well, if he reverts back to his old self, it’s your fault.”

  Alexa shrugged. “I’ve handled worse two-legged creatures than him. I’ll take my chances.”

  * * *

  Tristan stared at the images flickering across the T.V. screen. A tropical ocean. A welcoming sunrise. A happy couple laughing. It was all too good to be true. Real life was not happy. It was filled with bitter disappointments and devastating setbacks. He was living proof of that. Just months ago, he was a star football player with the world at his fingertips. Now, he sat in his parents’ living room, wondering what to do with the rest of his life. He still had his football career. But many of his endorsements had dried up. Once, his face had sold millions of dollars worth of merchandise. Now, with his scar, product companies weren’t so eager to plaster his photograph on their products.

  Last week, when he showed up to film a commercial for a popular soft drink, the director had the bad taste to ask him to turn the other cheek – literally. The man wanted to shoot only the right side of his face. Pissed, he stormed off the set. Two days later, the cola company pulled the plug on his contract. Word quickly got out after that. Nobody wanted a celebrity with a damaged face and a bad attitude.

  An image of a young nurse flashed on the television screen. Her crisp, white uniform reminded him of Mercy. And Alexa.

  He missed her laugh. He missed her smart-ass sense of humor. He missed her soft lips. He missed her voluptuous curves. He missed what could have been between them. But he couldn’t bring himself to call her yet. He was still coping with his attack. He didn’t want Alexa to see him like this. He didn’t want her to know the depth of his anger. How could he explain it to her when he didn’t fully understand it?

  He closed his eyes, deep in thought. He didn’t have a clue what to do with himself. His
life felt like a stagnant puddle of water. He was still on the active roster for the Predators, but he’d missed the last four practice sessions. His heart just wasn’t in it. Nothing held his interest anymore – not even football. Right now, his dream of a promising season didn’t seem so important. He ignored calls from his teammates, the coaches, and even the owners. He didn’t feel like dealing with any of it. He just wanted his old life back. And his old face too.

  He’d thought about having reconstructive facial surgery, but his doctor had warned him he would need to wait at least six to nine months for the deep tissue to heal before scheduling any procedures. He couldn’t understand that. Scientists could send a man to the moon, but he had to wait nine months for someone to operate on his skin. It was just one more brick in the tower of disappointment he’d been building.

  What else can you throw at me, God?

  “Hey man, I hope you realize you’re watching an infomercial.”

  He turned find Lou watching him. “So?”

  “So, it’s in Spanish. I know you can’t understand a damn thing they’re saying.”

  Tristan punched a button on the remote control. It didn’t matter which button. He didn’t care anyway. Television was just a distraction to keep him from his negative thoughts. “I was just flipping channels,” he lied, “trying to find something to watch.”

  “Yeah, right.” Lou approached and spread his long frame on the sofa opposite Tristan. “Man, you’ve been doing this crap for two months straight.”

  He continued to stare at the screen. “What’s that?”

  “Flipping. All you do is sit on this couch and let that TV hold you hostage. And you’ve been wearing that same robe for a week. When is the last time you showered?”

  “Don’t you have somewhere else you can be, Lou? I’m sure there’s a UFC fight on.”