Page 22 of Sunshine's Grump

“What in the hell are youwearing?” The words flew out of my mouth before I could think of anything else to say. “Is this what you consider appropriate?” My cock apparently thought it was just fine, as it was already trying to salute her sartorial choices. I crossed my hands over my front, ignoring Juliette’s sudden fit of coughing.

“Good morning, Mr. Grantham,” Soleil replied coolly, spots of color rising high on her cheeks. “I’m afraid you caught me changing clothes.” She waved to a pile of white fabric in a bucket on the floor. “I was… ill.” She wobbled a little and swallowed hard.

I walked toward her, my hand rising to feel her brow for fever before I knew what I was doing. I checked the motion at the last minute, and she smirked as I ran my fingers through my hair instead. I’m sure I looked like an idiot. I didn’t care.

Up close, I could see her face was flushed, with sweat at her temples. “Are you running a fever? I have a ship’s doctor; he’s been with my family for decades. I can have a helicopter on board in two hours if necessary—”

“I’m not sick,” she interrupted. “I mean, I was sick to my stomach. But I’m fine now.” The air around us filled with the combined scents of coconut and tropical flowers. That wretched perfume, and her own addictive aroma.

I moved toward her. “No. You’re flushed. You’re feverish. I’m taking you to the ship’s doctor now.” I lifted her in my arms and had her halfway through the dining room when I noted the waiter staring at her chest.“Fuck,” I growled, pulling a tablecloth off the nearest table and throwing it over her head, obscuring her entire body from view. She sputtered and complained the entire way to the medical office, and when I set her down in front of the elderly doctor, she managed to claw the starched fabric away from her face.

“Dr. Rimbolt, this is Soleil Fairweather. She’s ill. Please examine her,” I said with a nod to the shocked man. He stood and smiled at Soleil.

Who rolled her eyes. “I’m not ill. I’m fine. Mybosshas lost his mind. I don’t need an exam. I just threw up once.”

My fingers itched to pick her back up and shake some sense into her. “Remember that Iamyour boss, Sunshine. And your safety on board is my responsibility. You could have some communicable disease.” I frowned, knowing I was a hypocrite. I wouldn’t have rushed anyone else to the infirmary; I would have confined them to their cabin. What was it about this woman?

“Could be something simple,” the elderly doctor said in a soothing voice. “Seasickness?”

“Sure,” she agreed, that telltale blush spreading over her chest. I reached over and tugged the tablecloth back up over her shoulders, covering her chest. I glared at the doctor. He might be a beta, and old enough to be her grandfather, but he wasn’t dead.Fuck, hers was the kind of beauty that raised the dead. An entire army of zombies. I knew my own cock hadn’t gone down for more than a few minutes since I’d met her.

“Keep it professional, Doc,” I whispered.

Dr. Rimbolt coughed in his hand. “Let me just take a few vital signs, put all our fears to rest. Would you like privacy for the exam, Miss… Fairweather, was it?” His icy blue eyes met mine. “I may need to ask questions that are personal.”

“Well, I don’t have to answer them, do I?” she asked. “And call me Soleil.”

“Thank you, dear, and no, you don’t have to answer.” He patted her hand. “But if you’d like the alpha to go, I know he’ll respect your decision.”

I swallowed a growl, but when she shook her head and muttered, “He can stay,” I felt a wave of satisfaction.

He puttered around her, checking her heart rate, taking her blood pressure, frowning slightly when he read her temperature. “I need to ask one of those personal questions now, Soleil. Are you sure—” She covered her face with her hands, and I walked to the far side of the room, reading the medical degrees on the wall and listening as hard as I could. The doctor scowled at me, and spoke very quietly. “Your elevated temperature makes me wonder. When was your last heat cycle, dear?”

“Three months ago. I’m not due for another eight months, at least.”

“Ah, your cycles are regular? I see. And you’re single?”

“Yes,” she said, then gasped. “Well, I mean… I guess technically, I'm engaged.” Her hand went to her bare ring finger.

Technically?What the hell did that mean?

“Congratulations, dear. Well, you may need to get back to shore sooner rather than later, if you want to spend this heat cycle with your fiancé.”

“Heat cycle? How can I… Oh.” Her voice sounded so small, and I felt her gaze on me, burning holes into my back. “You mean a mini-heat?”

“Yes, dear. You haven’t experienced one before?” His eyebrows rose as he waited for an answer. She shook her head.

I fought to remember what I’d learned about omegas’ heat cycles, but it had been decades since the mandatory sex ed classes all alphas took in our teens, before our first rut.Everyone knew omegas had an annual heat, where they were most fertile. But I remembered something about shorter mating heats, which were extremely rare. They occurred when an omega was in the presence of an alpha their body perceived as a very close scent match.

The doctor’s voice drew me back to the present. “...and as you know, until the omega is bonded with her alpha, the mini-heats can recur. Flare up, if you will. But usually not when the alpha is no longer physically present. When did you become engaged?”

“The, um, the day I boarded the ship.”

“Ah, that must be it. Your fiancé triggered this heat. It happens, as I’m sure you know, with some very lucky omegas and their alphas. But the timing is unfortunate, with you here and him at home. It could fade with time and distance. Or, perhaps, if you ask Mr. Grantham, he’d take you to the nearest port so you can fly home and spend the next few days with your intended?”

I wasn’t sure when I’d stopped breathing, but the room had gone so quiet, I had a feeling everyone else had as well. “I don’t… I don’t want to go back to shore,” Soleil burst out.

“I see,” Dr. Rimbolt said gently. “I have some heat suppressants.”

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