Page 16 of In Control

He’s an alpha. I should have known by his build.

I hold the card up to my face and squint at it in the dark.

Liam Stand.

“You’re a surgeon. Do you even know anything about ankles?”

“I’m an orthopaedics surgeon. I know all there is to know about bones.”

I nod, impressed. He’s older than me by a good decade and a half but I note no wedding band on his finger.

“OK. Dr Stand. You may assess my ankle.”

“Mr Stand,” he corrects.

I pass the card back to him and he slides it back into his wallet with a smile.

“Surgeons are always misters.”

“Or missus,” I remind him.

“Of course.” Tucking his wallet back inside his jacket, he rests his fingers gently on my right ankle. “This one?”

“Yes.” His touch is warm and pleasant as he traces his fingers down the bottom of my calf and around the back of my foot.

“It’s a little swollen. I’m going to press a little harder now, to check the bone. Ready?”

I scoff, then squeal as he presses his fingertips into my ankle.

“You can slap me afterwards if you want. You’ll be surprised how many patients do.”

“You like to be slapped?” I try to joke, although the words come out in a hiss through my teeth as he continues to poke at me.

“Depends on the circumstances.” He lifts his gaze to mine and smiles with mischief at me.

I take back what I said before. He is very good looking. The kind of man who causes butterflies to flutter in stomachs. I bet he charms all his patients. I bet he commands them to get better and they goddamn obey.

“I’m pretty certain that your ankle is fine.”

“No trip to the hospital?”

“Dreadful place, I wouldn’t recommend it.” He holds out his elbow towards me. “Here. I also wouldn’t recommend lying about on the ground all night. You never know what strange man might find you there.”

I hook my heels off my feet and hang on to his arm. It’s solid beneath my fingers and he heaves us both easily to our feet.

“Can you stand on it?” he asks.

I test my weight on it. A little pain shoots through my leg but I suspect walking on it will actually help.

For a moment, I consider lying to him. I like the idea that if I can’t walk, he’ll be required to sweep me up into his arms. In fact, although there are many fantasies I have enacted, being carried in the arms of a stranger is one left untouched. However, I’ve never been any good at faking it.

“I’m good.”

He nods, but doesn’t release my arm, instead guiding me back along the path and allowing me to lean my weight on his arm.

“I didn’t catch your name,” he says as we walk back towards the palm house, lit up like a light bulb against the night’s sky.

“I didn’t give it to you.”

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