Page 4 of Tormented Dreams

"The doctor is running on schedule and you're in next, so you probably won't have time to finish those. Just take them in with you, so he has the pertinent information."

Grace took herself off to a chair in the corner with a sigh of relief. She might be able to skip some of the paperwork after all. And that became all the more conceivable when her name was called just minutes after she'd sat down. Well, she had to give him brownie points for that. It looked like the doctor really was as good as his word.

Grace followed the immaculate receptionist through a set of security doors and down a short hallway lined with a plush carpet and tasteful framed prints, until the woman gestured to a door to her right.

Nodding her thanks, she gave a polite, perfunctory knock before opening it to face the music.

What she was actually faced with was approximately six feet of dark, Latino good looks and impeccable manners as the doctor stood to greet her and shake her hand before motioning for her to take a seat and holding the chair while she did so.

"I'm glad you followed my advice to come here and have those dressings changed," he said with an easy smile and a complete lack of judgement, which immediately put her at ease.

"Did you get a chance to fill in any of the patient forms?"

It took Grace a moment to answer, so lulled was she by his smooth, deep voice that left her slightly flustered. Which, in turn, morphed into embarrassment when she realised she had neglected to reply.

"Oh! Um, I'm s-sorry…no. You were very punctual, and I…" she stammered and trailed off, thrusting the clipboard out to him and remonstrating with herself as she did so. Good grief! What on earth was wrong with her? She was behaving like a love-struck schoolgirl and she was way past that era of her life!

In fact, she was rather bemused. She was at an age now where she thought she’d already seen or experienced anything and everything that might interest her, and there were no more surprises left in life. And…oh Lord! He had spoken again and was now looking at her expectantly and she'd completely missed it! Way to go, Grace. He probably thinks you're a complete flake!

"Sorry." She had to stop and clear her throat. Heat flooded her face and she decided there was nothing to do but to face it head on. "I was a little distracted. What were you saying?" she asked in what was supposed to be her calmest, most well-modulated voice. Except it came out sounding a little too much like a squeak. Oh please ground, just open up and swallow me now!

At least the doctor was well-mannered enough not to react at all, whatever he might be thinking.

He depressed the top of his pen in readiness to write, and the sound seemed abnormally loud in the quiet room.

"I said, shall we fill in a few of these details so we can get things processed? I imagine you are reluctant to share, but I can assure you everything…" He looked up at her then and pierced her with dark eyes that almost read as black in their intensity. "…absolutelyeverything is treated with the strictest confidence here."

Grace sucked in a breath. She could hardly argue, after all. "Of course," she agreed, still somewhat dubious.

The doctor nodded. "Okay, then. Full name?"

"Grace Elizabeth Miller."

"Address?"

She rattled it off, knowing she wouldn't get away with leaving the pertinent information off, this time, as she had in the ER.

This man struck her as being a stickler for detail, and she doubted she'd get anything past him at all. Still, she couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief when he stopped after filling in just the most basic personal information.

"Right, that will do for now since, technically, you aren't registered as one of my patients. Why don't you take your shirt off and settle yourself on the examination table behind the screen, and we'll take a look at those wounds?"

It was really more of a command than a request, but for the moment, Grace was glad to be away from his unswerving scrutiny. The man was doing funny things to her insides, and that wasn’t a sensation she was used to.

As she stripped off, Grace couldn't help wishing it was under slightly different circumstances. Jesus! What was wrong with her? Sure, he was hot with his dark good looks and that jet-black hair with the sophisticated touch of silver at his temples, but it was quite unlike her to daydream about what might lie underneath a man's clothes. She usually got hot and sweaty thinking about whether or not a dominant would have a decent whip hand, not what his body was like. That sort of thing was just a lucky bonus.

Was Dr. Diaz a dominant, or was her overactive imagination just fantasising about such things? As soon as the thought entered her head, she involuntarily conjured up a picture in her mind of the good doctor, his naked chest displayed and an implement of sadistic pleasure in his hand. She couldn't control the full body shiver of anticipation that shuddered through her frame as she settled herself onto the examination table.

"Are you cold?" came the query from somewhere behind her.

Oh, hell! Thank goodness her flaming face was averted this time. Would there be no end to her embarrassment today?

"I'm fine, thank you," she assured him, her voice muffled from where she had her head buried in the crook of her elbow.

Still, she had to steel herself against the next shiver that threatened to rip through her when she felt his hands on her back as he peeled away the dressings.

Down, girl! she warned herself sharply.

"Ah, these are healing nicely at last," she heard him say, satisfaction evident in his deep voice. "I'm going to apply some petroleum jelly before I redress them. That will keep the wounds clean and moist and also provide an occlusive layer, which will help keep the wounds sealed, decreasing the risk of further infection. It will also hydrate them, which in turn, stimulates the healing process. It would be a good idea for you to keep some on hand for future use, if you incur such lacerations on a regular basis."

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