Page 599 of Hell Hath No Fury
I haven’t gotten any texts from the man I’ve been meeting at The Sanctum and I don’t know whether or not I’m grateful. For a moment, I’m glad I don’t have to push the issue. A time will come when I have to pick between Misha, the man I’m quickly falling for, and the man who seems to know every inch of my body better than I do.
As I’m leaving a café with a cappuccino and a scone after my job hunt, I do, however, get a text from Misha inviting me to his office for his lunch break. Apparently, not even a death in the family will keep the man from going into work.
Knowing he has no other relatives and knowing he probably won’t accept the sympathy from anyone else, I get in my bucket of rust and head to the hospital. Of course, I forget that my mom is also working the evening shift, so color us both stunned when I run smack into her in the emergency room hallway.
“Stella. How nice of you to come by and see me at work! Why didn’t you say you were coming? I could have given you a ride.”
“Uh, hi, mom!”
“Hi, sweetie.” Her brows furrow. She pauses and says, “What are you doing here?”
“Um, I came to see you!” I improvise.
“You just saw me last night…and this morning.” Realization dawns, her brows now up near her hairline. “Ohmygoodness. You’re here to see Dr. A, aren’t you?” Her squeal draws the eyes of every patient in the waiting room. At my scowl, she drags me around the corner and out of their view. “He’s just in his office. Go around the corner, then the first office on the left. His name is on the door there. You can’t miss it. Make sure he doesn’t stay here too long, okay? He’d work himself to the bone if we didn’t kick him out every now and again.”
“I’ll try. See you later.”
“Go get ‘em, tiger,” she says, grinning wildly. I roll my eyes at her again and give her a little wave.
I find him as I round the corner to his office. He’s standing just in front of me talking to a pair of nurses.
God, he’s attractive. Even more so in his lab coat and slacks, his stethoscope knotted in one pocket. Even though his eyes are drawn and somewhat lifeless and his smile doesn’t quite reach them, he’s still, quite possibly, the best-looking man I’ve ever seen. All competence and hollow cheeks. I have the sudden urge to muss him up a little, untuck his proper shirt and run my hands through his perfect hair.
Then he finishes his business with the nurses and turns to find me standing just by the corner. His smile brightens, transforming his face. “Stellichka.”
I don’t know what it means, but the light Russian accent he lets come through stirs my butterflies back to life. “Hi.”
“You didn’t have to drop everything to come,” he says, crossing the hall and enveloping me in his arms. I breathe him in and squeeze him tight.
“Of course I did.” I pull back and look up to his face, wishing I was a doctor so I could take away some of his pain. “No one should be alone after they lose someone.”
His eyes cloud over, but he covers it so quickly, I’m not sure I even saw it in the first place. “Come sit with me in my office. I’ve got some paperwork to finish and then maybe we can grab a bite to eat?”
“Sounds good to me. What are you even doing at work today?” I ask as he draws me in the room.
“I’m a workaholic,” he says with an easy smile.
“How’s the tattoo?” I ask.
He flexes his shoulder. “Sore as hell, but worth it. Thank you for going with me, for coming here.”
“Of course, whatever you need.” I say as I take a chair opposite his executive style desk.
“What do you feel like having?” he asks as he shuffles through some papers.
“Whatever you want.”
He gives me a little smirk. “You aren’t one of those women, are you?”
Not sure if I should feel affronted, I say, “What kind of woman is that?”
“The kind who can’t make up her mind about what we’re going to eat so we argue about it for the next ten minutes until you tell me what it is you want.”
He’s smiling. God, it’s a big, beautiful smile that brings out the slightest lines at the corners of his pretty blue eyes. Wanting to keep him smiling, I say, “I’m serious. We can have whatever you want.”
Those pretty blue eyes heat and for a second I feel exactly like a rabbit pinned by a sleek, sly fox. There’s something feral around the edge of his lips and the intensity of his gaze.
If the man from The Sanctum commands me with words and punishment, Misha can do so with his eyes alone.
