Page 13 of Knot Your Baby

I step back, maintaining professional distance. “I don't frequent Club Midnight, Miss McAllister.”

Her red lips curve into a smile that makes me uneasy. “But you're not denying I could take your knot!”

“Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss McAllister.”

“Thank you, doctor.” She sashays toward the exit, hips swaying, thinking I’m watching. But I’m already returning to the reception desk.

I blow out a breath. “Who’s next?”

Geri shuffles through some papers. “Can you fit Miss Rose into your schedule? She’s usually Dr. Landers’ patient, but he’s full and he asked if you could see her.”

“I don’t have the time,” I tell her, rubbing my temples.

Geri nods toward the copper-haired woman. “I’ve been observing her, and she really is in pain.”

I glance through narrowed eyes at her. She’s leaning back in the wheelchair, staring at the ceiling as she cradles her swollenbelly. That strawberry scent wafts over again, making my mouth water.

It’s her.

“And she’s an omega,” Geri adds. “She probably just needs some reassurance.”

I grab the chart. “Put her in examination room three.”

Minutes later, the door swings open, a dark-haired girl wheels her inside the room.

“Hey, Doc. I’m Freya Rose,” she says, holding out her hand to me.

She glows under the fluorescent lights despite the dark circles under her eyes. Her long hair cascades over her shoulders, and that intoxicating scent of strawberries wraps around me like a warm embrace, but something seems off.

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Is it okay if my friend Harlow stays with me?”

“Of course.” I smile. “Sit down. I’m just reading Dr. Landers’ notes.”

Now she’s closer to me. The strawberry smell is coated in another perfume.

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

“Just reading your past complications.” I clear my throat, forcing my focus back to the task at hand. “Miss Rose, when’s your due date?”

She shifts in the chair, glancing at Harlow before answering. “Three weeks and two days.”

“And your pack mates? Where are they?”

“They’re at work.” She gestures toward Harlow. “My friend brought me.”

As she speaks, that strawberry scent dims even more so—like someone turned down the volume on my senses. It’s disorienting and unusual.

Scent blockers.I hold back a growl as I ask, “Can you lie back on the bed, please?”

She shuffles off her seat and stands beside the bed, dropping her hand on the top as her friend takes her free hand and helps her to hop on top.

I take a step closer and place my hand on her baby bump. The moment my palm makes contact, a surge of electricity zips through me, igniting something primal I can’t ignore.

It’s strange because I’ve never felt this with a patient before.

Freya watches me closely, suspicion causes her to knit her brows together as I slow my movements.

“Are you on scent blockers?” I ask, pulling back slightly, waiting for her to lie to me.

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