“Oh, I get your drift.” He gritted his teeth, fighting a laugh. “Believe me, it’s not wee. And here we were having a civilised conversation before you once again brought it back to my cock.”
“Your cock seems so big it just naturally gravitates all topics around it.”
He chuckled. “You can see it if you want? Make up your own mind?”
“Wow, first you offer me to touch it and now you’re giving me permission to look at it?” I gasped loudly. “Whatever will be next? The generous opportunity to suck it?”
He shuddered, groaning low. “Careful what you say, Vesper. I’ll hold you to it.”
My entire body jerked with white hot desire as my name fell from his lips. It took all my control to remain coy and light-hearted rather than get on my knees right there—stuffed-up nose or not. “You’d actually force me to suck your cock?”
His eyes blackened. “Only if you get off on that. I’m not into forcing anyone to do anything. But if it’s another game between us…then, I’m open.”
Holy crap, did he just hint at role-play?
How had this escalated so quickly?
And how the hell do I slow it down?
I kept my hands busy, massaging the Chiweenie so I didn’t do anything else stupid.
He laughed low and so damn sexy, I think I blacked out for a second. “This chat really veered into R18 territory.”
“When do we not take a detour down that route?”
“Oh, I dunno. Whenever we’re not talking about my cock or you’re face planting into it.”
My cheeks flared pink. “One time. One time and never bring it up again.”
He smiled triumphantly, highlighting his insanely gorgeous cheekbones and god-chiselled features. “I plan on bringing it up again and again—in fact, every time I come in here—which you know is a lot—I’m going to remind you of the sexual harassment suit I could use to make you go out with me.”
I waved him away, sneezing as the flu attacked me fiercely. “Whatever. It was an accident. And that threat doesn’t work anymore. You already took that back—about the same time as you begged me to sleep with you.”
“I didn’t beg.”
“Oh?” I snatched a tissue from the box by the scales and blew. “I seem to recall the word beg in there somewhere.”
“Would it change your mind if I did it again?”
“Maybe.”
Probably.
Ryder smirked, moving around the table. “Okay. Vesper, I’m hard and never been this attracted to anyone before. Please will you consider allowing me the pleasure of sticking my cock in—”
I sneezed again.
Not just a quaint achoo but a full on fog horn.
The room swam as tears streamed from my eyes.
“Holy shit, are you okay?”
I held up my hand as Ryder tried to grab me. “Yes, I’m fine. Just…I’m not feeling all that well.” Blowing my nose again and wiping away the irritating tears, I said, “As much as I’m enjoying the flirting, can we just focus on the Chiweenies? I really need to get home.”
I clamped a hand over my mouth as a sudden rush of nausea and hot flashes attacked me.
“You really aren’t looking so hot.” Ryder ignored my need for him to stand back and took my elbow, keeping his body blocking the convenient jumping exit just in case the Chiweenies got any ideas.
Not that they were moving. They’d snuggled up into one fur pretzel with their snouts burrowed into soft tummies.
Poor things really needed tending to but I could barely stand now the shakes had started.
“Here, sit down.” Ryder guided me away from my patients, but I fought him.
“No, let me go. I’m fine.”
Reluctantly, he did as I asked but hovered annoyingly close.
“Don’t talk to me. Don’t touch me. Don’t do anything but stand there. Let me get this over with, make sure they’re okay, and then we’ll finish the flirting another day when I’m not swimming in mucus.”
“You say the hottest things.” He laughed quietly but did as he was told, fading into the background.
I shut everything off apart from the stored medical education in my head and grabbed a few syringes to flush out the Chiweenie’s eyes before assessing what medical drops to administer for their conjunctivitis.
I also pulled out a small infant bathtub that I’d bought from Bouncing Beautiful Babies (could they pick a more cheesy business name?) and turned on the tap for warm water. The sound of splashing caused two terrified pairs of black eyes to lock on me.
One Chiweenie whined in fear.
I hated when this happened. When caring and making them better caused them horror.
I swallowed back the terrible scratch in my throat, ready to console them. “It’s okay, poppets. It’s not going to hurt you.” I sneezed again, sounding more and more like a wicked witch than a soothing vet.
Ryder bent over and placed his forearms on either side of them, caging them in but giving them a safe haven to huddle under. His murmur was as delicate as velvet. “It’s all right, Corn. You’ll be fine, Chip. Just a little bath to make you feel better. Trust me, okay?”
He tickled under the chin of the closest one who’d pressed against this arm, seeking salvation. “Remember the long drive together? I didn’t let anything happen to you, did I? I even shared my lunch with you.”
While I poured antiseptic shampoo into the warm water and did my best to stop my teeth chattering as more chills made me break out in a cold sweat, I said, “Please tell me you didn’t call them Corn and Chip because you gave them pieces of corn chips.”
He gasped in fake horror. “However did you get that conclusion?”
“You know human food is bad for dogs.”
“Correction. I know chocolate is bad. Everything else, they’re omnivores—just like us. Besides, they’ve just been through hell. I think cutting them some slack and letting them eat a few nacho corn chips isn’t gonna kill them.”
“Famous last words,” I muttered as small suds formed in the bath. “I’ll report you if I smell cheese on their breath.”
He ducked conspiratorially over the Chiweenies. “Don’t tell her our secret, guys. Otherwise, she’ll take you away from me.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” I plucked the smaller of the two from his embrace. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
I sneezed again.
The poor dog yelped.
Ryder quickly stole him from me and pushed me away a little. “How about you just rest up, sicky? Let me give this pooch a bath.”
“But you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“It’s not rocket science. I’ve washed a dog before, you know.”
My head pounded and every reserve I had left evaporated. “Fine. You do that one and I’ll do this one.” Picking up the last trembling nugget of dog, we both lowered them slowly into the water, murmuring nothingness as they yelped before finally relaxing enough for us to scrub the filth from their fur and make sure there were no open sores.
Ryder and I didn’t talk, focusing entirely on helping Corn and Chip.
The water turned brown, and we placed the drenched pups back onto the towel to change the water. Once fresh warmth was supplied, we rinsed them off, then rubbed them down as best we could.
I didn’t want them to get a chill.
Apart from a few cuts on one of the Chiweenies legs and the gunky eyes, they weren’t too bad. I applied topical disinfectant to the wounds, administered eye drops which would start the course of three times a day, and finally took a deep breath as my heart laboured to keep me standing while fever and flu ravaged my insides.
I need to go home.
Stat.
“Okay then.” I coughed. “They should be all right for now. Give them a few days to get over the shock and then bring them in again and we’ll gather some blood and check their dental and claws.”
“Wait, you don’t want to do that tonight?”
Oh my God, you think I can find
their teeny tiny vein when you’re fuzzy and standing right in front of me?
Wait, why was he so close?
“No, they can hold on. Might be shgood to let them rest a little. Their adrenaline will be sky high. Might screw up the shreadings.”
“Doc?” Ryder leaned closer. “You’re slurring.”
“What? No, I’m not.”
He nodded. “You are. Want to tell me what’s going on with you? Just how sick are you?”
I raised a shaking hand at the door. “Not sick at all. Oh, look at the time. It’s leaving time. Goodbye. Take your newest family members and shoo.”
“I don’t take orders, Vesper.”
“Don’t use my name; I’m Doctor Fairfax.”
“You just gave me permission to use your first name.” He frowned. “Don’t you remember?”
Some sort of hazy memory returned. “Yes, I mean…well, I did, but it might be best if we stick to professional titles.”
“No deal.” Ryder held up the puffy clean pooches. “You’re a doctor to them, but to me you’re just a woman with a pretty name after a scooter.”
Ugh, I’m not named after a scooter.
I was named after the Vesper Cocktail made from vodka, gin, and kina lillet—thanks to my father and his love of old fashioned drinks. He never just had a beer to unwind, he’d have a Pisco Sour or Sazerac.
Thinking of my dad made my already bad mood even worse.
Pushing his arm (doing my best not to squeeze the very hard muscles I found there), I coughed, “It’s after hours, Mr. Carson. If you don’t leave now, I’m going to start charging triple time.”
“It’s Ryder. And I thought you were charging that this entire consultancy.” He looked at the clock. “After all, it’s nine p.m. You guys closed at seven.”
Crap, how did it get so late?
No wonder I was a damn zombie.
I brushed past him, no longer caring about decorum or professionalism. “Time to go. Now.” I swayed as I entered the reception area, cringing as my hip bashed into the desk where Amanda usually sat during normal hours. Now, the clinic was shrouded in darkness. Even the animals in the recovery bay, overseen by eager vet students for the night, were quiet.
Grabbing my handbag and car keys from the small safe beneath the desk, I startled as Ryder came up behind me. “You won’t need these.”
He stole my keys.
“Hey! Give those back!” I spun, crashing into the chair and sending it scooting over the linoleum. I coughed—embarrassingly it was a blend like a Chihuahua’s bark and a paper bag wheezing.
“No chance. You can barely walk in a straight line. If you think I’m gonna let you drive, you’re a moron.”
“Don’t call me a moron.”
“I can call you what I want seeing as you’re determined to kill yourself.” Keeping both dogs under his arm, he wrapped his free one around my shoulders. “Now, tell me where you live. I’m taking you home.”
CHAPTER SIX
---------------------
Ryder
“WHAT? I’M NOT TELLING YOU where I live. Who asks that?” Vesper jumped for her keys; fever bright in her eyes and congestion loud in her breathing.
Poor woman was sick as hell, yet she’d stayed and helped tend to two dogs who had no one else. The fact she hadn’t flogged me off or told me to return tomorrow increased my respect for her a thousand fold.
And with respect came desire and affection.
I’d lusted after this woman for months. I’d grown hard over her jokes and ached for our stupid flirtation. But now, I felt something else. Something deeper and more meaningful. I wanted to take care of her the same way she took care of her patients.
And if that meant making her angry, so be it.
Keeping the keys out of her reach, I grunted, “The guy who plans on driving you home to keep you safe is asking.”
“Well, too bad. I’m not telling. Besides, I don’t need a damn chauffeur.”
“You do when you’re sick as a dog—no pun intended. I kissed one of the Chiweenies on his tiny head. “You’re not sick. Not anymore, are you?” Making eye contact with her again, I added, “They’re on the mend because of you. The least I can do is return the favour.”
“Don’t worry about it. You paid me.” Jumping for her keys, she sneezed loudly, bending over with a groan.
Goddammit, I’d suspected she was sick the moment I’d seen her but my selfishness to get the dogs sorted meant I hadn’t seen how bad she’d deteriorated.
As we’d worked side by side, fixing the two mistreated Chiweenies (still hated that name, by the way) she steadily grew worse.
She hadn’t even noticed her business partner pop her head in while we were elbows deep in dirty bath water to say she was heading home and to lock up.
I’d nodded but Vesper had been a freaking automaton washing the pooch and doing her best to swallow and blink through red eyes.
I knew the feeling when the flu hit out of the blue.
And I remembered my mother looking after me when I swore I didn’t need looking after.
I didn’t know if Vesper had anyone but if she was like me and alone, there was no way in hell I was leaving her until she’d been taken care of.
Wait, she might have a boyfriend.
I’d already tried to assess that annoying question last time but still had no answer. Surely, she wouldn’t joke with me if she did? It would be past inappropriate and waltzing into cheating territory.
And Vesper was not a cheater. I didn’t know how I knew that, but I did.
Tucking her keys into my back pocket, I asked, “Do you live alone?”
Her eyes bugged. “Oh my God, your questions just get creepier and creepier.”
“I’m not asking if you’re alone in order to cut you into tiny pieces. I’m asking if there is a boyfriend I can call to get you instead.”
Don’t have a guy.
Don’t already share that bangin’ body with someone.
I didn’t mind some competition, but at the same time, I wasn’t a home wrecker.
She rubbed her temples with another groan. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Shit, that just made hard again.
“Flat mate? Friend? Sister? Anyone you live with?”
“Nope.” She sighed heavily. “Just me, myself, and I. And already this—” She wiggled her finger between me, her, and the Chiweenies “—is a crowd.”
Holding out her hand, she muttered, “Please, just give me the keys and let me go home. I need to go home.”
“I agree with the need to go home part, but you’re not driving.” Grabbing her handbag that’d fallen to the floor in another sneezing fit, I strode toward the exit. “Come along, Cinderella, you’ve expired and it’s time to get the pumpkin back in the garden.”
She trotted after me, holding her head. “Wait, did you just call me a pumpkin?”
“Will it make you easier to get into the car?”
“By being called a vegetable?” She crossed her arms. “No chance.”
“How about if I call you Darling or Snookums or Princess Puppy Ruler. Will that make you drop down your need to do everything yourself and let me drive you home?”
She froze. “I don’t have a pathological need to do everything myself, you know.”
“Good.” I huffed. “Then you’ll let me drive and quit arguing.”
She threw up her hands. “There truly is no winning with you, is there?”
I grinned. “Nope.”
Glowering, she muttered, “In that case, I guess I don’t have a choice.” Pushing on the exit, she stalked into the cooler night air. Summer had us in a hot grip but the nights were nippy—perfect for sex on a rug in front of a fire or cuddling under blankets.
My cock stiffened at the thought. Then deflated remembering how sick she was. I’d made progress and invited myself to her house (was that classified as a date or not?) but there would be no getting lucky ton
ight. Not that I really wanted to kiss her when she was ill.
My eyes tracked to her full peach lips where she’d licked and nibbled as she did her best to breathe.
Her plump glistening mouth made me hard again.
Nope, no way did I want to kiss her.
I didn’t do germs.
But you could…just this once.
Nope.
Fuck, who was I kidding? I would kill to fucking kiss her.
Tearing my eyes away, I made sure to lock up seeing as she’d forgotten in her flu state, and after fumbling with two dogs, her handbag, and finding the right key, I followed her to a dinged up Honda Accord and opened the back door to put the puppies on the back seat.
I was exhausted.
Shit, how did women juggle so much crap and not get totally frustrated?
Vesper craned her neck to look at the Chiweenies through the window. “Wait, you’re not bringing them with us, are you?”
“It’s cold and they’re still damp from their bath. I’m not gonna leave them in my car.”
“But—”
I closed the back door; quickly glancing to make sure my ride (a vintage Mustang—yeah baby) was safe in her practice’s parking lot. I’d get a cab back to it later once Sleeping Beauty here was in bed.
Instantly, images of her in sexy lingerie with spread legs attacked my cock.
Christ, don’t think about her in bed.
Clearing my throat, I forced myself to visualise flannel pyjamas and flu medicine. “I’ll deal with it when we get to your place, okay?”
She grumbled under her breath but allowed me to open the passenger door and wait until she’d thrown herself inside.
I hated that she was sick, but I also couldn’t stop the victory bounce in my step as I got behind the wheel and drove her home.
CHAPTER SEVEN
---------------------
Vesper
HE’S IN MY HOUSE.
How the hell did this happen?
The embarrassment level increased to a 10.0 on the Richter scale as Ryder Carson—sex god and puppy superhero strode into my lounge and placed the two shivering Chiweenies onto my blanket scattered couch.
Visa (my marmalade bitch of a cat) took off down the cramped corridor in utmost disgust and betrayal. I’d brought animals home from the practice before—especially those who needed through the night care—but she never accepted sharing her space with foreigners.