His To Master and Own (Miami Masters 5) - Page 6

“Yes,” Krista agreed. “I should know better than to push you. Who knows, maybe Master Sean will turn out to be the answer you’ve been searching for.”

The image of his chiseled face and stormy eyes popped up, a shiver rippling down Alessa’s spine when she recalled the inherent command in his tone. Sean both scared and fascinated her, and God help her, she didn’t know which reaction induced that shaky response or which she preferred.

Fewer patients that night meant a slow shift for Alessa and gave her too much time to think about whether or not she should make an appointment with Sean the next day, and to bemoan her lack of other options if she didn’t. She supposed she could go ahead and give up. It wasn’t as if she’d ever believed she would find her happily ever after at a BDSM club. The most she’d hoped for was an outlet or connection that afforded her peace of mind, something the two recent experiences she underwent had failed to lead to.

By the time she was almost ready to leave for work on Monday, fretting over what to do had left her exhausted. Cursing herself for her indecision, she sucked in a deep breath, pulled Sean’s card out of her purse and punched in his number as she locked the front door behind her. What did she have to lose? Her dignity? That went out the window when he’d told her he’d witnessed both humiliating scenes. Her pride? She could either swallow that emotion or continue living unhappy and unfulfilled.

He must have given her name to his receptionist because she had no trouble getting in to see him the next day, right before lunch. After thanking the woman, she snapped her phone shut before she could change her mind, praying she wasn’t making another mistake.

Alessa clocked in at the hospital thirty minutes later, then checked her patient load on the chart in the nurse’s station situated in the center of the heart ward. Between several new admittances earlier in the day and two nurses calling in sick, she had a much busier evening ahead of her than the previous night. Good. The more to keep her mind occupied and distracted from her appointment the next day, the better.

“I’m sorry for doubling up on you,” Casey said as Alessa scrolled through her patients’ charts on the computer. “With both Claire and Kelly out with the flu, I didn’t have a choice.”

“No problem. This year’s flu season is biting everyone on the butt. At least we don’t have it as bad as the Midwest.”

“That’s true, and I’ve been telling everyone to stay home until they’re sure they’ve recovered and aren’t contagious. Dr. Ward will send up a new patient soon, a valve replacement. That’ll put us back to capacity,” Casey said with a suffering sigh.

“It looks like I’ll be putting my feet up all day tomorrow. I’ll get started.”

Alessa loved her job, enjoyed visiting with her patients, even the cranky ones, and playing a part in getting them well and back on their feet again. She’d gone through extra training to specialize as a heart nurse and relished the challenge it added to her career. But the biggest bonus had been meeting Krista. As close as they were, she would hold off telling Krista about her appointment tomorrow with the psych doc. She’d never been able to come up with a clear definition for herself of what she yearned for; telling someone she’d only met a handful of times might prove impossible. Unless he was as good at his job as Krista claimed. Then, it might prove too embarrassing to bring up.

It was already an hour past her usual dinner break when she padded up to the nurse’s station and noticed Dr. Charles Ward sitting at one of the consoles. Looking up at her, he smiled. “Evening, Alessa. We’ve got another busy one, don’t we?”

“Yes, sir, we do. How’s your patient?” She’d enjoyed their brief affair, although that had less to do with the sex and more to do with him being such a nice man and easy to converse with. He seemed to appreciate that part of the short relationship a lot more than she, but in her experience, men were easy to please in bed.

“Sir?” he questioned with a tilt of his head. “I think we know each other well enough to dispense with such formalities, don’t you?”

The glint in his hazel eyes drew Alessa’s smile. That had come out sounding rather formal given they’d seen each other naked. The receding hairline of his dark brown hair didn’t detract from his good looks and she knew of several nurses who would delight in the forty-something doctor’s attentions. But just as with every other relationship she’d indulged in, the missing link, that elusive something she needed to be happy, had never materialized.

“Sorry. Habit, Charles.”

“Yes, those are difficult to break, aren’t they? My patient’s doing great, thanks. Have you taken your dinner break yet?”

She wondered why he’d ask an hour after the time he knew she usually went then shrugged it off as an idle comment. “No, I’m running behind. I’ll grab something soon.”

“Nonsense,” Casey stated firmly, coming up behind her. “Go now, before you keel over.”

“Come on.” Pushing back from the desk, Charles stood and came around the long counter. “I’ll join you for a few minutes on my way out. We can catch up.”

Because she’d avoided talking with him, other than to discuss a patient, since their split, she let her guilty conscience push her to accept the invitation. “Okay, thanks. I won’t be long, Casey.”

“What have you been doing with yourself?” Charles asked when they took a seat at a cafeteria table, Alessa with a salad and him with a Pepsi, his favorite beverage.

“Keeping busy. I’m taking a women’s self-defense class. That’s fun.” Had it been over two months since the two of them made the mutual decision to return to being friends and colleagues? Time flew, maybe more so when you were struggling to find what made you tick.

“Good for you. No one can be too careful. Just look at the traumas from assaults coming into the ER every day.”

Alessa worked her way through the chef salad and let him talk about the ski trip he took over Christmas, ignoring his comment ‘you would’ve enjoyed it’. Other than that, he stuck to neutral topics, for which she was grateful, and when he stayed true to his word and rose to leave ten minutes later, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d always enjoyed his company, but she didn’t want to give him any false signals that might make him think they could get back together. His parting question told her it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Are you seeing anyone, Alessa?”

Looking up at him, she knew she wouldn’t lie. “No, I’m not interested in a relationship right now. How about you?”

“I’ve taken out my neighbor a few times. Nice woman. And she bakes a mean lasagna.” He grinned.

Relieved, she returned his smile. “Well, there you go. You can’t go wrong with lasagna. See you later, Charles.”

He nodded and left her feeling better about their friendship now he was with someone else. If only she could find someone she could at least be content with.

“GOOD MORNING BARBARA,” Sean greeted his receptionist when he entered his office Tuesday morning. Now in her late fifties, she’d been his first and only employee the past twelve years, ever since he’d opened his private practice after working a year with a mental health group. He’d be lost without her friendly face and diligence and efficiency at keeping his office running in a smooth, orderly fashion. “How’s the schedule today?”

“Busy. Ms. Alexander called, so I squeezed her in right before lunch. Are you still good with that tight of a time frame for a new patient?”

His pulse spiked a notch seeing Alessa’s name written in the eleven-thirty-time slot on Barbara’s calendar. She’d been on his mind way too much the last two days. The urge to check up on her, ensure she wasn’t planning on taking any more risks with either her safety or her submissive needs, kept popping up to plague him at odd moments. He couldn’t set aside the look on her face following both scenes with the other Doms, or his desire to take her under control, root out what drove her and see her needs were met while coming to no emotional or physical harm.

He knew his necessity to control stemmed from the memory of his mother conveying that same expression of longing, of desiring something just beyond her reach, and his failure to get his father to do something about it, get her under control before something drastic happened. How many times over how many years had he pleaded with his father to pay attention to his mother, get her substance abuse—and her—under control before it was too late?

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