Shifters of Grrr 1 (86 page)

He hadn't always been like this. Actually, at the beginning of their relationship, she could hardly believe she'd struck such luck with a boyfriend who had clearly been out of her league. She'd always been a big girl. Definitely not the type that hunky, popular, playboy types like Charles went after. Yet, he'd seemed smitten with her back then, going out of his way to make her feel wanted, showering her with gifts and romantic gestures, always listening to her like even the most mundane things she said were simply riveting to him. He hadn't so much as glanced at another woman in the first few months they'd been together and she had finally started to relax and allow herself to believe that it was possible he really was attracted to
her
.
 

But as it had happened to countless women out there, both her friends and acquaintances and the characters in books and films, the moment she'd let her guard down, the power in their relationship had immediately switched over to Charles. Little by little, he'd started to show his short temper, his critical nature, his lack of appreciation for her. As time had gone by, she'd become convinced, the way too many women did, that she deserved all his frequent outbursts and that the only thing more painful than enduring his condescending attitude every day would be to be on her own again, failing at yet another thing - her only serious relationship.
 

The sharp ring of the landline finally broke the train of dark thoughts and Simone was jolted back to the present. No one called their landline anymore, so it took her some time to dig out the receiver from under Charles. He only grunted irritably, but didn't move from the sofa to help the search. The call wouldn't be for him. He was the one who came to live with her, despite his decent bank account, and Simone wasn't sure he even knew the number to give to people. Finally, she managed to retrieve it on the fifth ring and pressed the grimy rubber button.
 

"Hello?" a deep, smooth baritone came through, "I'm looking for Ms. Lawrence."

"Speaking," Simone uttered. The voice was completely unfamiliar and she racked her brain to think of any orders she'd made online or a credit card statement she'd neglected, anything that would explain the unexpected call.
 

"I'm sorry to bother you, Ms. Lawrence. This is Brett Growley, the patient you examined earlier today."

This was the last thing she'd expected to hear and afraid that Charles might hear the male voice and throw in a jealous fit, she walked out into the hallway, her sweaty palm gripping the chunky phone receiver.
 

"First off, I'd like to apologize for calling you at home and taking the liberty to obtain your phone number from a colleague of yours," the man went on, "but I have a proposition for you."

"What is this regarding?" Simone said, her mind still working frantically to make sense of the call. Why would
he
be calling her? Had she done something wrong? She remembered the patient staring intently at her and for a moment, she grew apprehensive. What if he was some sort of a maniac? A stalker?

"This might sound a bit forward, but I'd like you to work for me," he said and before giving her a chance to voice her shock, he continued, "I saw what happened this morning and I feel it might have been partially my fault. I hadn't disclosed a rare inborn condition I have to the doctors, and I'm afraid this might have resulted in you failing your test. In any case, I feel like I owe you, and before you say anything, please, hear me out."

Simone was speechless. A number of questions kept rising to the surface of her mind and she couldn't even begin to wonder about any of them. Finally, the one thing she chose to concentrate on was her natural scientific curiosity. What was
that
she had seen on the X-rays? What sort of rare medical condition was left out of the numerous medical textbooks she'd been perusing for years? Only hours after her entire future had been shattered to pieces and she had at least a year till she could even think of trying again, she realized she had nothing to lose.
 

"What did you have in mind?" she said after a short pause, glad that Charles wasn't around to listen in on the odd conversation.
 

"For personal reasons, I couldn't stay at the hospital any longer and so I've checked myself out. I am now at my residence, but unfortunately, I feel that I haven't fully recovered yet."

"No kidding," Simone mumbled under her nose. Back in the hospital, you could barely see the man from under all of his bandages.
 

"I would need a person with a medical background such as yourself, and I thought, in your situation, it might actually be beneficial for you to gain some additional experience outside of the hospital."

In
her situation
? She felt stung for a moment. Even a person knocked out by sedatives had noticed how pathetic she’d been at her exam. But how much did he actually see? She'd thought she'd been all alone when she cried after everyone had left the hospital room, the patient positively asleep in his bed.
 

"Of course, I'm prepared to compensate you generously for your competence."

When Simone returned to the room and to her sulky fiancée, her head was buzzing.
 

"Who was that?" Charles asked, his eyes still set on his laptop. "A secret admirer?" Then he laughed at his own witty comment, as if what he was suggesting was the most outlandish thing he could think of. Simone ignored him. She was still replaying the conversation over in her head.
 

"I think..." she started uncertainly, "I guess I have a job now."

"What?" Charles finally rose, propping himself on his elbow. "You?" He laughed again. "Wow, you don't waste any time, I'll give you that. So, what's this exciting new
career
now that medicine is finally put to rest?"

"Seriously, Charlie, I don't know what your problem is. I'd at least expect you to not make me feel worse than I already do."

"Well, it's not me who prefers to sleep in, rather than attend the most important appointment in the whole
fucking
year. Don't blame me for your lazy ass."

That was enough. She didn't need all that. He was impossible to talk to when he was in one of his moods, so Simone turned on her heels and went to the bathroom without saying another word. He'd come around and ask her about the job himself. She ran the shower and started undressing. A good, long, hot shower was the only thing that would help her relax right now. She let the steaming jets of water run down her soft, voluptuous body and tried to clear her thoughts for at least a moment.
 

There was something about showers that helped Simone sort through things. She felt as if the waterfall that landed on her head and sprayed tiny droplets in all directions, rivulets of water spiraling down her skin, finally managed to wash away the anxiety and the feeling of being overwhelmed. The man, Mr. Growley, wanted to see her this afternoon and she had agreed to go to his home. Just to talk. The more she thought about it, the more she felt as if she'd made the right decision. After all, what was the alternative? Stay at home and mourn the loss of her dream, all the while fighting off Charles' vicious attacks? She wasn't one to sit down, cry and indulge in self-pity.
 

Perhaps that was the Universe's way of paying her back for all the misfortunes lately.
 

Chapter 5: Brett

When Brett finally heard the doorbell ring, he jumped back into bed and straightened his bandages, his heart thumping against his chest. He wouldn't be able to fool her for too long. There were no wounds underneath the dressings any more, only his leg was still parts bear, parts human under the thick, stiff cast. He had tried to shift into his bear several times, but his drained strength was still not enough to facilitate the change. He'd have to wait and endure the discomfort of limping about like an old man for at least another couple of days. That's all the time he needed anyway, he hoped, to keep her around and make her fall in love with him. He hadn’t the slightest idea how to pursue a woman, but given Dane's ultimatum, he'd have to figure it out fast. All he thought was necessary was time alone with her.
 

He heard the maid greet his guest downstairs at the front door and soon two sets of steps echoed lightly up the glass staircase. He could clearly discern the heavier high heels' clicking over the soft, padded sound of the maid's flats. Regardless of his current inability to shift into a bear at a moment's notice, he still possessed the heightened senses of his kind and an extraordinarily strong hearing was one of them. Even before she emerged through the door, he was already aware of the subtle tugging in his heart, the inexplicable pull towards a woman he'd only seen once. His mind started working quickly. He needed to come up with a plausible reason to make her stay once it became clear that he didn't really require much medical attention in his current state.
 

The door finally swung smoothly open and the maid entered, followed by her. His
mate
. He tried to rise to greet her, but only crashed back under the weight of the cast. While making his not-so-elegant escape from the hospital a few hours earlier, he hadn't spared it too much and was now paying for it with the uncomfortable, jagged edges digging into his skin. His maid excused herself politely and walked out, discreetly closing the door behind her, so now it was just the two of them. The air suddenly felt thick and fragrant with her presence and the room appeared lighter and warmer. Brett was still a bit light-headed and he couldn't tell whether it was from the pain in his leg, or from the girl's intoxicating scent and disarming beauty.
 

"Hi," she finally said, visibly awkward in the unfamiliar territory. Judging by her clothes and the slightly worn-out heels of her pumps, she wasn't coming from a home as glamorous as his and he suddenly wished all his riches weren't so garishly on display to cause her discomfort.
 

"Hello," he said after clearing his throat, "please, take a seat." He used the short moment while she searched for a place to deposit her large, heavy handbag and sit to take a good long look at her. She was just as sparkling as she'd first appeared in his muddled mind in the hospital, and it definitely didn't come from her clothes. There were women like that, he'd seen them, whose thousand-dollar outfits shone and blinked like the plumes of a peacock in the sun, but the substance underneath was drab and uninspiring.
 

The case with the girl in his bedroom was the complete opposite. He could clearly see past the slightly crumpled (did she come by public transport?), slightly discolored black suit and the serious white, starched shirt with worn-out edges, all out of fashion, but nevertheless clean and neat, and notice that she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on. She was tall and full-figured, the shapes and lines of her body amazingly proportional and swerving and sloping in all the right places. Her skin was almost luminous, clear and bright, in sharp contrast to her dark auburn hair that fell in deep waves past her shoulders and matched her thick, perfectly outlined eyebrows and sweeping dark eyelashes. She was so fresh and natural, and so charmingly unaware of her own beauty that he wanted to shower her with compliments. Only he knew he might make her feel uncomfortable, so he commanded himself to take a deep breath and act normally.
 

Finally, she settled on a white leather settee by the enormous French windows and arranged herself neatly, legs crossed and shirt tugged down, hair swept behind her ears and luscious lips pressed and moistened with her tongue, her hands gently folded in her lap. For a moment, Brett was grateful for the layers of sheets and blankets that covered his groin, or else he would have freaked her out with his immediate physical reaction to her irresistible appeal. With her erect back and straight shoulders, and the way she nervously looked around the room, she definitely looked as if she was preparing for an interview. Brett knew he had to break the awkward silence.
 

"Well, first of all, thanks for coming, really," he said, smiling warmly, "I know my invitation was a bit out of the blue and I'm glad you decided to come after all. Would you like anything to drink?"

"Just water, please," she said timidly.
 

Brett rang a small bell and the maid appeared instantaneously, as if she'd been eavesdropping by the door. In a minute, the girl was clutching a cut crystal tall glass of water and it was once again just the two of them.
 

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Brett said," I know the situation is hardly normal, but I'd like you to feel at home here. By the way, I never learned your first name. I hope you don't mind me not calling you Miss Lawrence all the time. I'm Brett."

"Simone," she said and he smiled, the name ringing like music in his ears.
 

"That's a beautiful name. Listen, Simone, as I mentioned on the phone, I feel really bad for what happened at the hospital this morning. I was never meant to end up there anyway, but I guess you don't have much time to explain your preferences when you are rolling unconscious in a grave of snow." He noticed her little smile and continued, more encouraged, "I don't know what sort of unlucky coincidence it was that it was you who ended up reading my X-rays, but I had an idea that might help rectify the situation."

"No, please," she said feverishly all of a sudden, "you have zero blame in this. It was my third time failing this particular exam actually, so I didn't stand much chance in the first place, not after I overslept. I don't think there's much that could be done about it anymore. I just need to wait another year and see if things look up by then."