Auctioned to the Protective Dom [The Spectrum Auctions 4] (Siren Classic)

by Doris O'Connor

  By the time he had his breathing back under control, Rissa’s face appeared back on his screen. She looked delightfully rattled and slightly embarrassed, as she offered him a shy smile.

  “Does Daddy feel better now?” she asked.

  Reaching across for the wet wipes he kept on his night stand, Jonas smirked at her.

  “Much better, baby girl, thank you. I’m going to have to go and wash up. I would appear to have made rather a mess of things here.”

  He laughed, when Rissa blushed.

  “I speak to you tomorrow, baby. Go and get cleaned up, and dream of me.”

  “Always.”

  Her whispered reply made him feel ten foot tall. It also made him ache to hold her in his arms, to breathe in her scent, to just be with her. It had only been a few days, but he felt as though he was missing a limb. At least now he understood what his father had meant, when he’d described how he knew that Mum had been the one for him.

  It was far too early on in their relationship to say any of this out loud, but Jonas was fast beginning to realize that Rissa was indeed the one.

  For him anyway, and he’d have to work extra hard to convince her to stay with him. This new, delightfully playful, Rissa who was beginning to embrace her inherent sensuality would draw the unattached Doms at the club like a bee to honey, dammit.

  “If you do dream of me, you’re allowed to come this time. Being that you’ve been such a good girl.” He smiled at her sharp intake of breath. “If you do, however, I want to hear all the details of this dream, and I’ll make sure we’ll act that out.”

  Jonas had to wonder at the excited little squeal his girl gave him.

  “Promise?” she asked and Jonas nodded.

  “Promise, and I always keep my promises, precious girl.”

  Rissa blew him a kiss, and Jonas ended the call with a big grin on his face.

  He had an interminably boring dinner to get through and at least two more days of meeting, but at the end of all that, his girl would be waiting for him. Hopefully with some wicked fantasies to play out.

  * * * *

  Rissa woke up with a start, yanked out of an erotic dream where Jonas was making love to her while she was tied in ropes and suspended from the ceiling, gasping for breath. Wow, that had been intense. Something was wrong though. What had woken her for starters, and where was Brutus? She hadn’t shut any doors, so by all rights the little dog ought to have snuck onto the bottom of her bed by now. He wasn’t there, however, nor on the cushion on the floor, he knew he was allowed to sleep on. Reaching across to the nightstand to switch off the flickering telly, she’d sent the cover for the Beauty and the Beast DVD she’d fallen asleep to, flying in her haste to find Brutus. He hadn’t acted himself all day really, ever since Peyton and Laura had been there. Rissa had been too busy having a good time, to take too much notice of him, and while he’d been unusually quiet, he’d still been underfoot, but this?

  “Brutus. Come here, boy. Brutus.” Rissa stuck her head out of the bedroom door calling him, and that sense of unease she’d woken up with intensified tenfold when no straggly dog appeared at the top of the stairs. No scrabbling of claws on the oak wood flooring, not even a yip in response. He might be fast asleep, of course. It was, after all, three a.m. in the morning, but he should have heard her by now.

  Rissa hastily yanked on some leggings, and pulled one of Jonas’s old sweatshirts over her head. Twisting her long hair into a messy ponytail she sprinted down the stairs, dreading what she might find.

  The smell hit her first. The acrid sour stench of vomit, and diarrhea and her heart stopped for the second it took her fumbling fingers to find the light switch.

  “God, no, little guy. What have you done to yourself?”

  Barely conscious, Brutus lay curled on his side, shivers wrecking his small frame as he strained. His fur matted in vomit, the little dog panted for breath in between straining to defecate. Green bile covered his bedding, mixed in with the small amount of liquid feces he had managed to expel.

  Swearing under her breath, Rissa grabbed a towel, and scooping the little dog up as gently as she could, removed him from that mess. His painful yelp tore at her heartstrings, and she swallowed past the lump of tears and the rising panic that threatened to reduce her to a quivering mass of hysterics.

  “No, no, no, no, this can’t be happening.” Brutus nudged her hand as she murmured to herself, her hands automatically mapping out his body. He jerked when she reached his belly, and Rissa swore again.

  “Okay, little guy, you’ve eaten something you shouldn’t have, haven’t you.”

  Instinct and her vet nurse training took over, as she carried on examining him, and wrapping him up in another towel to keep him warm Rissa yanked the house phone of its stand. Festher Veterinary Surgery’s telephone number was still written on the whiteboard, but bearing in mind the hour, she ignored it, and dialed the smaller number marked emergencies only.

  A sleepy, deep male rumble of a voice answered the mobile on the fifth ring.

  “Hello?” Rustling came down the line as though the man on the end of the phone was getting out of bed. There was a thump, and before Rissa could speak that deep voice again. “Hello, are you still there. Do me the courtesy of answering my question, at least. This had better be good. It’s….fuck, three in the damn morning. Who is this?”

  The submissive inside her cringed at the annoyance that came through loud and clear the longer the man spoke. Under normal circumstances that deep voice, rough with sleep, and its American accent, would have caused Rissa to swoon in delight. That sinful voice held a myriad of promises, and Rissa had such a thing for accents, after all. This weren’t normal circumstances, however. Jonas’s dog was in dire need of help.

  “I’m sorry. I’m looking for Dr. Festher.” Rissa rolled her eyes at the panic in her voice, and closing her eyes, took a deep breath in.

  Don’t be such a ninny. Think of this as being at work. This is not Daddy’s Brutus, but just another dog needing your help.

  “This is he, but this phone is reserved for emergencies only. How did you get this number, girl? Do your parents know you’re making this phone call?”

  If possible that voice sounded even more annoyed, and Rissa was torn between the urge to sink to her knees or laugh at the absurdity of him thinking she was a child. Okay so, she had squeaked that down the phone, but this was ridiculous.

  Keeping one hand on Brutus to remind her why she was doing this, Rissa tried again, after clearing her throat.

  “Dr. Festher, I apologize for waking you.” There that came out almost normal and far more importantly professional sounding, if slightly out of breath. “I would not be ringing you unless it was an emergency. I have a dog here, which is registered under your surgery and presenting with acute vomiting, extended, and tender abdomen, and straining to defecate. He’s lethargic and going into shock. I suspect an acute GI obstruction, and I need to get him seen ASAP.”

  “I see. And you are?”

  The grudging respect in his voice made her smile.

  “Rissa Nauenburg, and no, my parents are not aware I’m making this phone call because I am very much not in need of their permission, Sir.”

  Lord only knew what made her add that title, yet alone with that snarky intonation, but a soft chuckle came down the line, as though she’d amused him.

  “Touché, Rissa Nauenburg. I fear it’s my turn to apologize. You sound as though you know a thing or two about veterinary care, so why are you ringing me at—”

  “With all due respect, Dr. Festher, we’re wasting time. I’m ringing you, because you’re Brutus’s vet, and Daddy…erm I mean…damn it.” Rissa almost dropped the phone at the sharp intake of breath in her ear. Talk about a Freudian slip.

  “Brutus, you say?” The voice softened further, taking on a soothing quality that Rissa couldn’t help but respond to, and some of her panic subsided. “That wouldn’t be Jonas Sorenson’s hell hound would it?”

 
The little dog strained again under her hand and Rissa’s heart clenched anew.

  “The very same. He must have eaten something in the garden earlier. I found all sorts of rubbish, and I thought I’d picked it all up, but he’s in a bad way. Please, you need to see him now. If something happened to him, Jonas would never forgive me.”

  More rustling came down the line during her fervent plea.

  “Okay, I hear you. I’m heading to my surgery now, little one.” His voice softened further as he said that and hearing this stranger call her by one of Jonas’s pet names for her, made Rissa blink away more tears. “You don’t mind me calling you that do you? Or am I making assumptions here that are incorrect?”

  “No, sir,” Rissa whispered her answer down the line.

  “I thought so. Hold it together for your Master now, and bring Brutus in. I’ll be at the surgery in less than half an hour. I see you then.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Dr. Festher hung up, and Rissa rushed to find a box to settle Brutus in for the journey, grabbed her car keys and her mobile phone, and headed on out. Her finger hovered briefly over the call button. Jonas had a right to know what was happening to his dog, but he’d had a hard day and it was the middle of the night. What good would it do to phone him now?

  Rissa threw the phone down, started the MG, and with one last glance at Brutus struggling for breath pulled out of the driveway.

  Brutus had to come through this. He just had to.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Forty-five minutes later, Rissa pulled up outside the charming old house that formed Festher Veterinary Surgery. A BMW was parked out front and a single light was on downstairs. She’d barely switched off the engine, and rounded the car to take Brutus’s box out of the passenger well, before the front door swung open.

  The man stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light, gave her a quick glance over, before his attention was taken up by the box in her hands.

  Not as tall as Jonas, Dr. Festher still towered over her, and Rissa couldn’t help but notice the way his biceps strained against the short-sleeved T-shirt he was wearing when he took the box of her.

  “Well, Brutus, it sure pains me to see you like this. Rissa, I assume?” He flashed Rissa a quick smile, showing off a set of even white teeth, and enticing dimples in an angular jaw covered with three day old dark scruff. Rissa got a glimpse of piercing blue eyes, framed by long eyelashes, an aristocratic nose, and a shock of sleep tousled dark brown hair peppered with enticing streaks of grey, before the man turned and strode back into the surgery.

  “Follow me in. I need to examine him to see what the real damage is.” Rissa nodded to his departing back. She couldn’t help but notice the width of his shoulders, tapering down to a slim waist and an ass lovingly outlined by faded denim, before the familiar smells of a veterinary surgery engulfed her. In a funny way that calmed her. Come what may, Brutus was now in the best place to help him, and the man who was carefully taking Brutus out of the box and laying him down on the examining table was rumored to be the best vet in London.

  The care he showed in his handling of Brutus made Rissa blink away fresh tears, as he murmured to the dog.

  “There, little guy, you are in a bad way aren’t you.” Logan Festher glanced up at Rissa. “How long has he been like this?”

  “I don’t know. I found him like this shortly before I phoned you. I was asleep, see, and he wasn’t there when I woke up, so I went looking for him.”

  Brutus yelped when the vet examined his belly and Rissa hurried closer to hold the little dog’s head.

  “Shush, there’s a good boy. Let him examine you. You’ll be okay you see.” Stroking the dog’s fur while keeping a firm grip on his head she looked up just in time to see Dr. Festher’s grim smile.

  “It’s a GI obstruction, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “I’ll need to run some x-rays to be sure, but it very much looks like that, I’m afraid.”

  “Damn it, this is my fault. I should have tidied up the garden earlier, and then I had visitors, and got distracted. I knew he was acting oddly, and—”

  Logan Festher’s big hand closing over hers stopped her torrent of words.

  “Breathe, little one.”

  Her heart skipped a beat, and sure enough, when she looked up, it was to find herself pinned under the intensity of a gaze that only an experienced Dom could bring to the table.

  “I’m going to say to you what I tell all my clients in similar circumstances. You’re not to blame, and accidents happen. His breed are notorious diggers and scroungers. You’ve recognized what’s wrong and brought him in, that’s the important thing. In an ideal world I’d operate on him immediately, but I’m a vet nurse down and Brianne, who’s on call is also newly pregnant, and not up to being called out. I’ll have to ring the agency, but that will take some time, so in the meantime, I’ll put him on a drip and….yes?”

  Logan Festher smiled at her, waiting for her to speak, and Rissa silently marveled at his perceptiveness. She had been desperate to interrupt him, to tell him there was no need for another nurse, but somehow the words hadn’t wanted to leave her mouth.

  “Is there something you’d like to say?” Again he ran his gaze over Rissa, lingering on her neck, hands and wrists, as though he was searching for something. When he brought his gaze back to hers, Rissa was pretty sure she didn’t miss the spark of interest in his eyes. It gave her a much needed boost right now, and clearing her throat, she managed to get the words out past the huge lump of anxiety that seemed to be firmly lodged in her throat.

  “There’s no time for that. And I can help.” Belatedly she tucked her hand out of his grasp and those far too perceptive eyes narrowed briefly, before he stepped back, and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I’m a vet nurse. Well I haven’t practiced in over six months, but my registrations are all valid, and I used to assist in theatre all the time at my old practice.”

  Logan ran a hand over his stubbly jaw and quirked an eyebrow at her.

  “Which was where? The practice you worked at, I mean?” He collected some saline solution and a cannula while he was talking and lining them up on the table next to Brutus, gestured for her to step closer.

  “Erm, Barent Vets.” Rissa’s mouth went dry, just uttering that hated name, and Logan Festher’s reaction did nothing to help defuse the bile churning in her gut.

  “That’s not a recommendation. Barents is under investigation by the RCVS right now. I’ve reported that charlatan myself, having cleaned up his messes more than once, so—”

  “I’m glad he got reported but I started my work there when it was still Dr. Johnston, and he was an excellent surgeon, who would turn over in his grave if he knew what that…that…what he…” Her voice faltered and the room spun as the old familiar gut-churning fear threatened to overwhelm her. Brutus’s yelp as he moved focused her back on the urgency of this situation. Swallowing hard she forced herself to continue. “I’m glad Dr. Johnston didn’t live to see what that man did to his beloved surgery.” Rissa drew a much needed breath into her lungs, and slowly uncurled the white-knuckled grip she had on the side of the examining table.

  “I see.” She looked up to find Logan Festher watching her with the most curious expression on his face. “I did a rotation under Dr. Johnston myself. I wasn’t aware he was the previous owner of Barent Vets?”

  “The practice changed names under the new ownership.” Rissa dropped her gaze to stop Logan Festher from seeing how much it cost her to have this conversation. “A lot of things changed and not for the better. I hope they strip him of his license, lock him up and throw away the key.”

  The words came out far more wobbly than she would have liked them to be, but it felt wonderfully freeing to be able to say them. Finally she could summon some rightful anger at the man, no, the monster, who had turned her dream job into a nightmare, and given her no choice but to leave it all behind. Who would em
ploy her, having worked for that asshole? John Barent had sullied her name to all who cared to listen and while Rissa had applied to numerous surgeries, none had been even willing to interview her. Had it not been for the bar job at Club Spectrum she’d have starved.

  “That sounds very personal, little one.”

  Her gaze flew back to his, when he uttered those words, and straightening her spine, she pulled her shoulder back and lifted her chin up.

  “Please don’t call me that. It’s not your place, only Master Jonas’s.” A flash of something akin to admiration crossed Logan Festher’s face and he inclined his head. “My name is Rissa, and I’m more than capable of assisting in this surgery, despite what false statements that charlatan, as you put it, spread about me. Let me prove that to you. We need to save Brutus.”

  Rissa lifted her chin a fraction higher and tried her best not to fidget under Logan’s unblinking stare.

  “Very well, on that, I’m in agreement. Show me how you put that drip in, and I’ll make a decision.”

  Rissa blew out a breath of relief, and hastily picked up the equipment needed for the job. Her hands shook, as she was all too aware of Logan watching her every move, but on the second attempt she found a vein. It was testament to how poorly Brutus was that he didn’t even attempt to struggle.

  Having set up the drip, Rissa stepped away, waiting for the eminent vet’s verdict. Her heart beat so fast she felt faint and her fingernails dug painfully into her palms with the effort required to not let her anxiety show.

  “I’m impressed. Getting that line into a dog as poorly as Brutus on only the second attempt, especially as you haven’t done this for six months…that’s good work. Okay, let’s get this done. X-rays first, though I’m pretty sure we’ll find an obstruction, so prep him for theater, while I look at the films.”