Page 23 of Outback Mate
“Yes, Ida.”
“Please be gentle with Poppy. She’s a lovely girl. She’s young, but her aura sickness is… well, it’s not been kind.”
I pause, the question on the tip of my tongue. What is Poppy’s aura sickness?
It’s a violation of her privacy, and I have no medical reason to ask. I’ll need to ask the patient herself.
“Understood.”
The phone clicks as she hangs up, and I shove the device into the front pocket of my jeans, turning to the door.
Poppy’s still fast asleep.
I scrub my hand over my face again, and flinch when I realise I’m smiling. I’m standing there in the waiting room, staring at an injured, vulnerable patient, grinning like a lunatic.
“She’s not for you. Rein it in, mate,” I utter to myself, because apparently, today I’m going insane. She’s sending me insane.
Pulling myself together, I check her IV. She was dehydrated, and will feel much better after getting fluids into her body.
My next task is the other cute bundle in the room.
The joey is basking under the heat lamp, and it’s time to tend to his needs. He’s not the first baby kangaroo I’ve nursed from infancy, and he won’t be the last. Life out here can be ruthless and merciless against the weak. The vulnerable simply don’t survive. Most country folk don’t bother dealing with a burden like an orphan joey because they require round-the-clock care for nearly a year.
Not me. I can’t seem to stop myself from helping.
I think it’s the doctor in me. The one part of my nurturing instincts that haven’t frozen over with my aura sickness.
I carefully lift the joey into my arms and tuck him against my chest to keep him warm.
The small kitchenette behind the waiting area has the supplies I need. I set to work, sterilising the water by boiling it and preparing a bottle of special kangaroo milk replacer for the little guy. Settling in a chair in the waiting room, he suckles at the bottle like a champ, drinking every drop until his eyes grow heavy.
“Hey, buddy. You’ve had a big day, time to rest,” I murmur as I walk back into the small treatment room and settle him into his box with the heat lamp buzzing overhead. I smile as he shuffles deeper into the blankets before drifting off to sleep.
I feel calmer and more in control after tending to my furry patient. Helping animals is like therapy for me.
“Alpha,” a soft voice calls.
I look up to see Poppy, still half-asleep, watching me with a dopey grin.
“Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time for a checkup.”
Her nose twitches, her breath stuttering, and I realise I’m growling at her.
Shit.
Her perfume blooms, responding to my primal call.
I didn’t realise I was doing it, and I don’t like my body acting of its own volition.
“I can’t sleep with the storm. It’s too loud. Will you stay in here with me?”
I want to roll my eyes at her barefaced lie: she’s been asleep for an hour already.
Her sleepy tone sends a pulse of need straight to my dick, making it stiffen in my jeans. I bite down on the inside of my cheek as I study her, my eyes dropping to her parted thighs, the scrubs straining against her flesh. They don’t fit her rounded behind, clinging to her thighs and leaving very little to the imagination.
Fuck.
My skin flushes with desire.
