The wolf must have heard the door open because he turned and looked at her. Wow! His eyes were a bright blue and she had to hurriedly gather her court persona around her to prevent her face or body language betraying what her mind was thinking. Her brain was filled with images of him naked, on a beach with the sea behind him the color of his eyes. Or maybe in a swimming pool. Ah hell, naked anywhere would work. Unfortunately she wasn’t here to talk to him. She needed to see Oscar and as soon as possible. She really didn’t have any time to waste.
“Is Dr. Thorne in, Ambrielle? I have some papers he needs to sign.”
“He got your text message. He’s in the physiotherapy room with a patient. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”
Ambrielle hurried out of the room, but Nurse MacLeod remained standing by the reception desk. Likely Ambrielle hadn’t finished doing whatever he needed from her. Sierra smiled at Mr. Truly Delicious and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt. This shouldn’t take long.” She put her briefcase down at her feet and stretched out her arm. It was hot and stinging. She hoped it wasn’t bleeding again. The last thing she needed was blood on her clothing. But she refused to look at it. If she ignored it perhaps it would get better faster.
“Your arm’s hurt,” said Fergus.
Oh, shit. I should have guessed nurses and doctors would notice. Why didn’t I stop and put my jacket on when I got out of the car?
“It’s nothing. Just a rope burn.” She made her voice as dismissive as possible.
The nurse didn’t listen to her. He stepped up to her, lifted her arm, and turned it over. “See how red it is? That’s infection. You need to get this treated.”
“Infection?” She looked down at her arm. She’d assumed the red was bruising like the black and purple, but now she looked closely at her arm she could see the edges of one wound were puffy and irritated, likely infected as he’d said. Damn that fucking ropes course to hell. How can I appear in court with an infected arm?
Fergus kept hold of her arm and looked straight into her face, dragging her attention from the arm back to him. “Rope burn? Did your Dom do this to you? He deserves to be thrown out of the BDSM community if he did.”
Dom? BDSM? Oh, hell. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. I had to attend a team-bonding session with some clients and colleagues. There was a high-ropes course and I got a little scratched and bruised. I’ll get some antibiotic cream for it on my way back to the office.”
“It needs to be attended to properly not just some cream put on it. The wound has to be thoroughly cleaned and—”
“Sierra? Fergus?”
“Hi, Oscar. I just need you to sign some papers and I’ll be on my way again.”
“No you won’t. Look at her arm, Oscar. It’s infected. She ought to have it treated properly.”
Sierra opened her mouth to give them one of her court-strength “get the fuck out of my personal space” speeches. But Ambrielle shook her head. “You may as well do as they say, Sierra. Two wolves, two Doms. You’ll never get your papers signed until they clean that arm. Besides, it’ll hurt a lot less if you look after it properly.”
“Well, thank you for that advice, Ambrielle. Just side with the men, why don’t you?”
“Only when it’s going to be to my advantage to do so,” said Ambrielle, grinning.
Sierra laughed. Yes, okay, her arm did hurt. Perhaps, just this once, she’d let them bandage her up before they got down to work.
* * * *
Fergus had to force his wolf back down. When he’d assumed a man had damaged the soft flesh of the attractive attorney he’d been ready to tear the careless Dom limb from limb. Finding out she’d hurt herself accidently didn’t soothe him much though. That wound needed to be cleansed properly. Likely there were some rope fibers or dirt inside it. And then, once her arm was cared for, he’d see about touching and caring for the rest of her luscious body.
Fergus had seen Sierra around the clinic a few times, but not often. He was pretty sure Oscar usually went to her office instead of her visiting him here. But he’d heard the story of how she’d demanded Oscar’s cousin’s financial records and the man had refused to provide them, which meant his court case was denied and Oscar still controlled the clinic.
Unfortunately it seemed as if George was a sore loser and winning that day had just been Round One of what was going to be a much longer fight. Well, if it meant he could get his hands on Sierra that was fine by him—as long as Oscar kept the clinic of course. A clinic specifically for shape-shifters was very much needed. The patients he saw had often been unable to access appropriate help anywhere else.