Chapter 5 - Dr. Kristian Krengel
I t’s been a good three years, almost to the day, since I’d last seen her. How I didn’t recognize her before is beyond me. Now that I do, the day she made her way into my emergency room floods my mind like a raging river.
A Christmas ham, with pineapple slices and a cherry in the center of each, sat in the center of my parents’ dinner table. Each of the eight chairs surrounding it were occupied by my siblings, their wives and kids, and our parents. We’d all held the others’ hands and said grace before my father began carving off thick slices and placing two on each of our plates.
Just as I’d grabbed my fork and knife and was ready to dig in, my cell rang.
It was more or less a life-saving procedure. Sure, I’d done my best to keep the scarring at a minimum, but I knew she would need to return for one or two additional surgeries to make it unnoticeable.
We’d never heard from her again.
I shift the to-go boxes to my opposite hand and flash my room key over the sensor before pushing the elevator button for floor eight. I’d bet the five hundred dollar bills in my wallet that my room assignment across from hers is Aaron’s doing, but you’ll not hear me complaining. She may when I knock on her door and tell her we’re eating in, but I’ll certainly not be.
It’s a mystery to me as to why she didn’t come back to have her scar minimized. Maybe it was embarrassment from how she got the injury or maybe it was just a busy schedule, something I plan on asking her at some point, but for now she just needs to eat.
My knuckles connect with the steel door. She may not answer. Which is understandable, given she is a woman staying alone in a hotel, hopefully she’ll make use of the peephole. Then again, if she does, I may be the last person she wants to see.
When there’s no answer, I knock again. Relieved when I hear an irritated groan, followed by a click of the lock.
The door only opens as far as the metal security guard will let it. When she peeks through the opening, she tugs on her collar slightly and angles her head in such a way that puts her imperfection in the shadows. Had I not recognized her as one of my patients, the subtle movement would’ve been overlooked.
“What are you doing here?” she asks in an annoyed tone. I raise the foam boxes into her line of sight. “We’re having dinner in.”
Her brows crease together and she eyes me as if I’ve just grown two heads. “What on earth would make you think I’d invite a man I don’t even know into my room?”
You do know me. The words are right on the tip of my tongue, but saying them aloud would mean reminding her she does, and something inside is telling me she’s not quite ready for me to make that confession yet.
Improvising, I suggest an alternative. “What if we go find that ballroom you’re so desperately after and take a look? If there’s no place to sit, we can just picnic it in the middle of the floor.”
Her expression changes as if she’d expected me to press further for dining in her room, and my lips lift into a knowing grin.
“Come on,” I coax her further, lifting the food a bit higher. “There’s no sense in letting it go to waste.”
She holds my stare for a long beat, and I wonder what’s going through her mind. Fear. Curiosity. Some faint recognition of me but she doesn’t realize from where? Or is my charm finally winning her over?
Eventually, she takes a step back and begins closing the door, and I’m already mentally preparing myself for how horrible I’ll feel after eating all this food myself.
“Give me five minutes. You can wait out there, if you’re that eager to force me to eat something.”
“I’ll be here.”
When the door clicks closed, I turn and lean my back against the wall, staring at my own room number and wondering if I should slip inside and splash some cold water on my face. Maybe even change out of this ridiculous suit, shirt, and tie and into something more comfortable. Unfortunately, this is all the hotel was able to provide on such short notice. I might be okay with walking around in just a pair of boxers, but I doubt she would be. Plus, I don’t want her to think I’ve changed my mind if she’s ready before I am. So I wait.
An older couple, hand in hand, draws my attention as they make their way down the hall. Both with silver hair and a tad hunched over, they move a bit slow and it’s fucking adorable. “How are you both doing this evening?” I ask.
The woman lifts her eyes to mine and instantly her face lights up. “Much better now, honey. Aren’t you just a tall drink of water?” She elbows the older man. “Look at this young man, Harold. Remember when you looked like that?”
He groans, barely lifting his head in my direction.
“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate the compliment.”
“There’s more where that came from, sweetheart.” She wriggles her brows and tilts her head in what I assume is her husband’s direction. “He’ll be passed out in no time. Our room number is...”
I bite back a chuckle when he tugs on her arm.
“Come on, Gertrude. Leave the man alone.” When they get a little farther away, he scolds her, “You don’t tell strangers what your room number is, he could be a thief, for Christ’s sake.”
She manages a glance over her shoulder and offers me a wink. “A man that looks that good doesn’t need to steal, he can have whatever he wants.”
The sweet scent of perfume hits my nostrils before a soft voice sounds from behind me. “What was that all about?”
Her timing couldn’t have been any better. “I think the smartest person I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with.” Turning, I meet her inquisitive eyes but don’t elaborate. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be, I guess.”
Extending an elbow, I silently hope she’ll take it. The thought of her warmth anywhere near my skin has my dick twitching in my pants. It’s not clear where this sudden obsession is coming from. If it had been any other woman at that counter arguing with Aaron about a ballroom, I wouldn’t have given them a second thought.
There’s something about Holly Snow that is drawing me in.
She obviously doesn’t feel the same. Leaving my arm empty, she heads in the direction of the bank of elevators, not caring if I’m beside her or not.
AFTER A QUICK GLANCE at the map of the hotel, we find the floor with the conference and ballrooms and step into one of the steel boxes, pressing a button for the twelfth floor.
Once the doors close, the sounds of Christmas filter through the speakers in the ceiling and I’m tempted to hum a long but decide against it when she rolls her eyes, obviously not a fan.
Which is curious given her name.
We both speak at the same time.
“I guess...”
“December baby...”
I gesture in her direction. “Please, go ahead.”
“Well, I was going to say, I guess if I’m going to wander around this place with a strange man, I might as well know your name.”
Lifting a brow, I angle my head in her direction. “I haven’t told you yet?”
She shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest.
“Hmm.” I run a hand over the stubble on my chin. “Normally, I’d give a shorter version of it because it’s not the most normal, but since it’s along the same line as yours, I’ll probably get less of a reaction from you than anyone else.
“That bad?”
“It can be.”
Is that a grin? And she hasn’t even heard it yet. Taking in a deep breath, I let it out and prepared to give her a piece of me that is fun, but not one of my favorite things to do. When the elevator doors ding and open, I’m hopeful she’s forgotten already and instead reach for the edge to keep them from closing as she passes through. She stops at the threshold, her sweet smell floating in the air around me.
“I’m not going any farther until I know.”
I step closer until there’s merely just inches between us. “Is that right?”
She stands taller. “Yes, it is.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Shaking my head, I’m suddenly rethinking pushing my way through the revolving door of Bella Providence. But those curious brown eyes dancing between mine have the reconsideration dissipating in an instant.
Leaning in, I lower my head as if I’m about to tell her something top secret, instead I simply breathe out my name. “Kristian Krengel.”
She doesn’t react. No laugh. No giggle. Not even the slightest little grunt. Instead, she quietly steps out of the elevator and takes a moment in the open space where the conference and ballrooms are.
I don’t immediately follow. Instead, I still stand in the threshold of the elevator, a little perplexed by this woman. “I’d expected some kind of reaction,” I tell her, closing the distance between us.
She turns on a heel. “You won’t get one from me. I was teased enough as a child for my name. I can’t even begin to imagine what it was like for you.”
Shrugging, I think back to when I was a kid. “It wasn't easy, but it could have been worse.”
“Well, Kristian Krengel...” She extends a hand and I place mine in hers. The soft skin tempts me to not stop at just a handshake. “...it’s nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine. Now let's go find a ballroom, otherwise, my stomach will be talking to yours. Do you remember what the name of it was?”
“The Grand Ballroom, I believe.”
Interesting, that’s the room they’d said the medical conference is in, and I know exactly where it is. I make a mental note to confirm with Dr. Dasher when I get the chance, for now I’ll need to keep that piece of information to myself. Otherwise, this little outing will come to an end much sooner than I want it to. “Let’s just check and see if any are unlocked and go from there.”
She nods, already trying the knobs nearest us to see if anything is open. “Guess it’s not this one.”
A little farther down the large hallway is another set of doors. She jiggles the handle.
Locked.
Up ahead is one of those fancy, high-backed circle benches but before I get a chance to tell her this would be as good a place as any to grab a bite of the, what now must be cold, food, she’s already tried two more doors.
I do the same on the opposite side, where there are two more rooms. No luck. We meet back in the middle.
“I feel a little ridiculous carrying this around. Why don’t we just stop here, eat, then check out more rooms after?”
She looks around as if confirming we’ve checked all the doors in this space, and on a disappointed huff, she takes a seat and I take one beside her, handing her a foam box.
Flipping it open, she barely even looks at the food inside before gathering the burger I’d ordered in her hands and taking a large bite. I’m by no means upset that she's eating my food and I’m left with her grilled salmon salad, because watching her eat is a glorious sight to see. Who knows the last time she ate. It’s got to be nearing midnight. I’d check my watch but it would mean tearing my eyes away from her, and instead I break off a piece of salmon, bringing it to my mouth.
“I’m not sure we’re going to find any of them open,” she says, after swallowing down another large bite of the burger, a hint of disappointment lacing her tone. “Even if we did, what’s the point, they’ve already given it to someone else and my best friend will be getting married in our living room.” Shoving a few fries in her mouth, I watch the muscles in her cheek work as she chews.
Her problem is a big one, and one we could probably solve if we put our heads together, but all I can think about is how much I’d like to get a closer look at the scar to see how it’s healed. Had I been thinking clearly, I would’ve sat on the other side of her now.
When she’d left the hotel room, I’ll admit I had looked briefly but hadn’t noticed it. Most of her neck is hidden beneath a high-neck collared shirt and if I had to guess, I’d say the rest is covered in some kind of makeup.
Plus, I don’t feel like now is the right time to ask. Especially since she’s closing the box now and is now eyeing the salad.
“You want some?” I ask.
She pulls her lips between her teeth and shakes her head. “That was mine, wasn’t it?”
“It was.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was good. Something I never would have ordered for myself. But glad I was forced to try it.” I offer her a wink.
She returns a shy smile.
It’s small but beautiful. I want to take her chin in my hand and run my thumb over that full bottom lip, just to see if it’s as soft as it looks. I know it’s not a good idea. She’s my patient.
Was. She was your patient.
Nevertheless, if I put my hand on any part of her now, I’m not going to stop at just her lip. But fuck, I can’t resist. Holding her stare, I set the box to the side, and lean in. Her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t move when I lift my hand and caress her cheek with my knuckles. Surprisingly, she leans into my touch and closes her eyes, desperate for the connection.
If that’s what she needs, I’m more than happy to oblige. Once I lower my hand and cup her chin, the texture of her scar can be felt beneath my fingertips.
Her eyes spring open and she stands abruptly. “No, I can’t do this. I’m going back to my room.”
I’m not letting a little imperfection keep this one from me. I stand and reach for her arm, turning her toward me before she has a chance to leave. “You, sweetheart, are staying with me until we’ve checked every room on this floor.”
Just because my job is to make people look beautiful, doesn’t mean I don’t see the beauty in those who choose not to fix the things that bother them. But right now is not the time to tell her that, I’m not sure she’d listen anyway. No, she needs to see the kind of man I am outside of what I do before I open that can of worms.
“Why are you helping me?” she asks.
“It’s either wandering around a hotel with a beautiful woman, or sitting in my room and working on a presentation I’ve no desire in giving.”
“Presentation? What kind of presentations do Christmas trade shows have?”
Shit.
Avoiding her question, I glance around the open space, and see a sign on the opposite wall reminding me that just around the corner is the Grand Ballroom. The conference isn’t for another couple of days. Maybe it will be open and hopefully they haven’t set anything up yet.
“Come with me.”
Her feet move quickly as she tries to keep up with my long strides. Maybe it’ll distract her from thinking further about why I’m here at the hotel. I don’t know why I feel the need to keep it from her. Granted, she’s very sensitive about her appearance but she shouldn’t be.
Sure, it’s noticeable if you’re looking, but it takes absolutely nothing away from her beauty. And coming from a man in my position, that’s saying something. Would she think it’s the truth coming from me? Probably not. Which is why it’s best not to tell her. Not yet.
When we turn the corner, my steps stop cold and she crashes into my back. “What the...”
I cannot believe my eyes. There, lined up along the wall, are nearly life-sized poster boards with images of each featured doctor for the medical conference. As my luck would have it, my giant mug is the first one I see.
Spinning her around, I make a split-second decision, and my lips crash down on hers.
Her body goes stiff. I should pull away and make sure she’s okay with this. But her warmth, and the scent of her perfume envelops me and I press harder. Just as I suspected, soft and luscious.
She groans. And fuck if it doesn’t shoot a spark straight down to my dick.
When her palms rest gently against my chest and she timidly drags her tongue along the seam of my mouth, I’m done second-guessing. Placing my hands on either side of her head, I hold her still and take over, consuming her as if stopping would mean the world would end.
Anyone walking by might see two adults acting like horny teenagers, but I wouldn’t notice. Nor would I care.
Our frenzy lasts for a good few minutes before I pull back and drop my forehead to hers, each of us breathing heavy.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just...”
She places a finger over my mouth. “You’re right, you shouldn’t have. But... and I can’t believe I’m saying this.” She lets out a long breath. “I’m glad you did. It’s been a good three years since I’ve felt this alive. This, free.”
That’s not what I’d expected.
I know the reason for her words and it tugs at my heartstrings. No woman should feel as though they’re not worthy of anything. Let alone the spark felt from a first kiss. I know it’s probably not her first ever, not by the way she’d reacted, but I’m glad I was the one here. The thought of it being anyone else has my hands balling into fists.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I take her chin between my thumb and forefinger. This time I am careful not to draw attention to her scar before lowering my eyes to hers. “I have a bottle of champagne in my room.”
She shakes her head, pulling away from my touch.
“Compliments of the hotel,” I add, hoping it might make a difference, given her situation.
“You know...” she says, while walking back the way we came. “I think I have one too.”
Watching her leave is both mesmerizing and disappointing. I thought for sure she’d want to keep this going. I guess you’re losing your touch, man.
She stops in the distance. “Well, are you coming or not?”
Again, not what I’d expected.