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Chapter 3
Rogen was sure that she was dead. All she could see was white. And she
felt odd, like there was something moving over her skin. When a pair of clean white tennis shoes were in her vision, she listened while the man talked, presumably to himself.
“Why they have to do this today is beyond me. Stupid asses. I would like for someone to say, just once ‘Hey Dawson, thanks for doing a good job. Would you mind going in to help your brother out? He seems to have disappeared off the face of the fucking earth.’ I know just where he is, and I’m going to—”
“I don’t think I’m dead, am I? I mean, hell might sound like this, but I don’t think I’ve been that bad. And angels would not, I don’t believe, curse like that. Do you think?” The shoes jumped out of her vision and she waited. “I don’t know who you are, Dawson, but I thank you for doing a good job. Unless you’re here trying to kill me; then, sorry, no kudos from me.”
His face suddenly appeared in front of her face. He was bent at such an odd angle that she was reasonably sure that he was very tall. Dawson had a smile that would win him any argument, she thought, and never leave him without a bed partner.
“No, not trying to kill you, my dear. But to keep someone from giving you too much in the way of fluids. You’re supposed to be getting off them a little at a time. I’m Dawson Robinson. Doctor. But you can call me Dawson.”
“Rogen Hall. Where am I?” He told her she was in the burn unit of the local hospital. “Burn unit? Oh, the family. Are they all right? Did anyone get them help? I’m so very sorry that the little boy was burnt, but I did try my best to—”
What’s the matter? She looked at Dawson and realized that it wasn’t him that was talking to her. Rogen, I’m in a meeting about you and your job. Can you tell me if you’re all right?
“Hmm. Dawson, there’s a man talking to me in my head. Perhaps I did die?” Dawson laughed and said it was Thatcher. “And this Thatcher person, does he go around talking to strangers?”
“No. Normally, no. But he did make it so you could talk to him. He’s talking to me now and would very much like for you to answer him.” She asked him how she was to do that. “Just think of...no, that won’t work. Just think of answering him and you can. Just think up your answer and he’ll hear it.” Well, she had a few things to say to this Thatcher person. And damn it, she was going to.
Who are you, and what the hell does your brother mean, you “fixed it so I could talk to you”? You fucking bastard, if you’ve planted something in my head or my ear, so help me, I’ll find you. And you can go to the bank on that. His laughter caught her off guard in her rant. It was just too sexy and nice. Who the fuck are you?
Thatcher Robinson. Dawson, who you’ve met, is my brother. We’re both doctors. You are my patient, and since I couldn’t be there to check up on your dosage of fluids, he said he’d do it for me. She told Thatcher that he should thank his brother more often. I do. I think he’s talking about the head of the hospital. He’s a mean prick that has risen above his level of competency.
Rogen thought of the people she knew who had done that. Risen up into a position of authority but didn’t have the first clue on what they were doing. Other than pissing people off and fucking up her day.
Those people that were in the car. Did they all get well? I mean, the man was shot, and the little boy was hurt badly when I was too long in getting him out of the car. He didn’t say anything. Then it occurred to her what he’d said he was doing. You said you were in a meeting about me. Why?
I’ve come in contact with your boss, Donaldson. There’s another shit head that has gone above his level of competency. Anyway, he was getting a hard time from me—not that he didn’t deserve it—but then Winnie James stepped in. She’s scary, isn’t she? Rogen told Thatcher that she’d trained Winnie. I can see that, I suppose. You’re supposed to be very scary too, aren’t you? And you do a hell of a job for the country.
She felt her body flush with embarrassment. Rogen didn’t do well with praise. She supposed it was because she seldom received it and had no idea how to react. And most of the time, if not always, it wasn’t sincere, just something that was said to someone. But this man, for some reason, made her feel like he meant it. Every word.
I would like to get out of this contraption. Is that even remotely possible? And I have a brother, Jamie. I have to see to him. He told her that Jamie was with his parents, learning how to cook, and the contraption would have to wait until she saw him again. And if I just leave? What will you do then, Mr. Bigshot Doctor?
Well, I’d like to think that you’re a reasonable person, and will wait until you’re released so as you don’t get an infection in those burns. She’d forgotten about the burns. The pain of them. Her heart started to race—her breathing wasn’t right. It wasn’t until she was ready to pass out that she heard the voice in her head and the one in front of her. Just calm down. Breathe. Or Dawson is going to have a heart attack. Breath for me, Rogen. Close your eyes and think of a place that calms you.
The first thing that popped into her head was a big bed, silky sheets, and a man that filled the bed up, and her. When she heard his sexy laughter again, she thought of other things. This man tied up, his arms and legs spread out so that— She could almost see him naked, his body hard for her.
You have to stop that, love, or I’m not going to be able to leave this meeting without a large box in front of my cock. Embarrassed again, she didn’t want to talk to him. I’ll be there soon. I think they’ve told me about all they’re going to. And I suppose, if you’re willing, you can give me the rest. Are you all right?
Yes. Why wouldn’t I be? And that wasn’t you I was thinking of. It was someone else. From a long time ago. Not you. He told her that she was still a virgin. How do you know what I am?
I could taste it. She had no idea what to say to that, so didn’t comment. I’ll be there in about a half hour. Talk to Dawson, love. He has all the information you might need on the family. But trust me, you saved their lives, and the entire pack is grateful to you.
“Thatcher said that I should talk to you.” He raised her up by pushing a button, putting her face level with his after he sat down. “What is this thing? Some sort of rotating bed?”
“Something like that. Since you can’t be rolled to your back because of the burns, we have you on this rotating bed that can flip you over or stand you up, like you are now, to keep the blood circulating. If you notice, your feet are on a platform so that you can stand and get blood to your feet and legs.” She thanked him. “No problem. What else did you want to know? And whatever you ask me, you must know that I cannot lie to you. Not even a white lie. All right?”
“Why? Why is it that you can’t lie to me?” He looked away, then back at her. “This is something that your brother has to tell me, correct?”
“Yes and no. I can tell you that he’s healed you. And since I’m sure you’re aware of what a shifter is, I’ll tell you that we’re all cats. Tigers, as a matter of fact.”
She nodded, then got what he was telling her. “Oh no. No, no, no, no. I am not his mate.” Dawson laughed and said that she was brilliant. “Brilliant or not, I am not going to be a slave to any man. And I won’t be sending my brother away, nor will I quit my job to wait on his fucking ass hand and foot. He’s in for a huge awakening if he thinks I’m a pushover.”
“I don’t think anyone would ever think that you’re a pushover, Rogen.” She told him she was sorry. “No reason to be sorry. I like you. And your brother. I’ve talked to Jamie. He’s a nice young man, by the way, and is very happy that you’re going to be all right. He told me about your experiences with shifters—the neighbors of yours. We’re not like that. First of all, Mom would beat us to death, literally. And second, you would too. And to be honest with you, Rogen, I’m terrified of both of you.”
“I’m not much of a fighter, Dawson.” Something moved over her, and she closed her eyes. There it was. A tiger. Opening her eyes, she looked at Dawson. “I’m a cat. That’s how I survived this, isn’t it? That man, Thatcher, he changed me to keep me in line.
