Page 39 of The Healer

“Doc, two kids broke their arms. Coedwig needs you.” Dane’s voice was muffled as if he stood to close to the door.

Two? At the same time? “They can heal.” Guilt pinged through her heart. She had sworn an oath to do no harm. Her circumstances didn’t mean her vow no longer mattered.

“Broken bones work the same on shifters. If they’re not aligned properly—”

“So help me, Dane.” She sucked in a shuddering breath. But he was right, and her not going was harming the children, wasn’t it?

Silence rang out, deep rumbles followed, and a thump jerked her fully awake.

“I have coffee.” That was Rhys’s voice, right?

No, Dane waited at the door. No point in getting wishful and dragging her dreams into reality. That way led to disappointment.

She flipped onto her back and threw a pillow at the door. “Come in.”

In her boy shorts and a baggy T-shirt, she was more than decent. Her hair was a mess, but she didn’t care. Taking the time to brush it would only encourage Dane. Developing a crush on him would never happen. She was a one-man kind of woman. Not to mention the eager hopefuls flirting with him were striking, beautiful, and unscarred.

The door banged open, and he crept in, balancing a tray. The aromas of coffee, waffles, bacon, and sausage filled her bedroom.

“You’re wonderful.” She sighed, smoothing a spot on her duvet.

He lowered the tray, his tongue sticking out in concentration. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and almost spilled the coffee.

“Jake’s warming the clinic and trying to find out how it happened.” Dane ran a hand over his face which didn’t lighten the dark circles under his eyes. “If you hurry, we can be there in fifteen minutes. I’ve asked Harriet to pack your things, assuming you’re moving into your house when we return from the clinic?”

Ilona cupped the coffee mug to her chest between sips and nibbles of bacon. Did she want to stay? To discover the possibilities of his blood? “Yes, thanks.” She studied his cheek for any sign of the slap she had given him the previous night. Grimacing, she ran her thumb along the edge of her cup. “Sorry about…” She nudged her chin at his cheek.

“I should apologize. I wanted you well, and as an alpha, I don’t ask first before I do something.” He captured her hand holding the last bite of a waffle. “Dr. Ilona, please may I have your permission to share my blood should any harm befall you?” Those big ice-blue eyes, those pouting lips…shit, the man was a natural lady killer.

She smiled despite her best intentions. “Charmer.”

He grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

When he released her hand, she popped the piece of waffle into her mouth, chewing as she assessed this virile man in his jeans and T-shirt. She sucked on her thumb before gesturing to the door, asking him to leave. Then froze. Rhys filled the space, his shoulders almost brushing the door frame.

“Morning.” She gulped and clasped her hands on her lap. Fussing with her hair would accomplish what?

“How are you feeling?” His deep voice caressed her ears, sparking goosebumps along her skin.

She shivered, relishing the tingles sliding down her back. Her nipples pebbled under the T-shirt but covering them would bring attention to her reaction.

When conversation turns awkward, take control of the situation. She lifted her coffee for another sip. “Dane, give me ten minutes. I’ll meet you out front.”

He glowered, scooped up the tray, then rose.

Rhys stepped aside to let him pass, entered her room, then closed the door behind him. Her breath caught at having him alone. Right, like she knew how to seduce. Not that she wanted to. No, of course not.

“So?” He grinned and scattered her heartbeat

That wasn’t possible, medically. She pinched her lips and dipped her chin, hoping to hide her burning cheeks behind the fall of her hair.

“How do you feel?” He crossed the room to stand at the foot of the bed.

His black jeans hugged thick thighs; his white T-shirt clung to his ripped chest and torso. But more than running her hands over his indents and hard edges, she longed to bury her fingers in his hair, to rub her thumb over his beard and bottom lip.

“Good.” At her rasp, she cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop Dane.” Rhys’s blue gaze rested on her wounded shoulder. “Politics and pack boundaries play a part.”

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