CHAPTER ONE
Willow leaned on the counter and slowly counted to ten.
She’d been waiting for the sonographer for over thirty minutes. It was seven in the evening, and as the only person in the waiting room, it wasn’t clear why she was having to wait so long.
Her patience was dwindling.
Tap, tap, tap.
Her subtle attempt at getting the absent receptionist’s attention wasn’t working. This was the last place she felt like being; however, she’d injured her ankle over a month ago, and regular treatments weren’t working, so her osteopath had sent her for an ultrasound.
She didn’t have a problem with ultrasounds; the problem was the time taken out of her day. With multiple deadlines due, Willow was still learning how to balance her own needs over her well-paying but demanding clients in her new media relations business.
When she’d discovered the clinic was open late, she’d booked a six-thirty appointment hoping to be home by seven where she could heat leftovers and dive back into work.
Yet here she stood thirty minutes later, still waiting. She’d browsed Facebook, put hearts on all the Instagram posts, and sent out a tweet.
“Excuse me,” she called out as politely as she could. “Hello!”
The receptionist who had greeted her earlier popped her face around the corner. She held her phone in her hand and looked annoyed at the interruption.
Willow inwardly sighed. The girl was probably making a tick tock, or whatever the kids called it these days. Not that she was old, but yeah, it wasn’t her thing.
“Can I help you?”
“Sorry to disturb you”—no, I’m not—“How much longer will the wait be?”
Chest heaving, the girl didn’t even attempt to hide her annoyance. She walked to her computer and began tapping away with some barely contained huffs. They both squinted as headlights from a large SUV pulled up onto the sidewalk. Willow covered her eyes and looked away.
“Let me see,” the girl said once whoever was driving had turned the headlights off. “He should be available soon. We had a delay earlier, which created a backlog.”
Willow ground her teeth.
“Oh.”
She forced a small smile to her lips, then returned to her seat where she imagined how the conversation could have gone.
Why in the hell didn’t you tell me, then I could have rescheduled?
Oh, he won’t be long. It’s only half an hour.
That’s my decision to make. You took that decision from me.
Lady, chill out.
Don’t tell me to chill, you tick-tocking—
“Oh, they’re back,” the receptionist said, interrupting her hypothetical argument—which she was winning, by the way.
She was winning.
Willow looked out at the big men who had exited the SUV.
“Who are they?”
The men were all dressed in black. Their attire should have made them look like thugs with all that leather and denim, but there was an air of wealth about them. Perhaps it was the big SUV, the quality of their clothes, or the chunky, shiny watches on their wrists.
One thing was for sure—they were all ridiculously good looking, as if they’d stepped off a movie set. Rough but polished.
“I don’t know. For the past few weeks, they’ve shown up religiously every night before heading upstairs to the medical rooms.”
Then they did just that. All six of the men walked in a tight group, gathering around one dark-haired man as if they were secret service. Willow wondered if he was a celebrity or politician hoping for anonymity. Or perhaps she watched too much television.
“What kind of treatment do they do upstairs? Cosmetic?” It was a wild guess, but why else would you sneak in for treatment late at night so regularly.
The girl looked away from the testosterone-loaded view and shrugged.
“That’s just the thing; no one really knows. Recently they’ve been working late into the night. It’s weird.”
Willow stood to watch their progress, taking in their long, confident strides. Outside, the sky had grown dark, but streetlights poured golden light around the area, offering good visibility.
She’d been right—they were all extremely attractive, each of them taller than the average man, with broad shoulders, thick necks, and solid thighs.
“Perhaps they’re security?”
“Hmm, who knows?” the girl mumbled as her finger swiped across her phone screen.
“Pretty hot security if they are,” she added with a small grin, despite losing her audience.
Suddenly, one man turned his head and looked directly at her. Her heart began pounding in her chest, racing as she stepped back, gasping.
Silver, ethereal-looking eyes seemed to hold her on the spot. His eyes narrowed, yet his gaze didn’t feel threatening. As they continued to stare, she felt her body and face heat unexpectedly.
“What?”
What?
The spell broken, Willow’s eyes flicked to the receptionist.
“What?” Willow asked back.
“Oh, sorry. I thought you said something.”
She looked back at the man whose eyes stayed on her a moment longer before he turned to the man standing next to him and laughed casually, totally carrying on with his life.
Which was fine. Except she was suddenly overcome with a strange and irrational feeling of loss.
“Willow Thompson-Davies?”
She turned abruptly and found the sonographer standing with an iPad in his hand, greeting her.
“Are you okay?”
Willow blinked. “Yes. Oh, yes, I was just...never mind. Hello.”
“I’m Mark. Sorry for the wait; it has been one of those crazy days,” he said with a grin that had the power to melt panties.
She grabbed her purse and followed him through to the treatment room, wondering if she was being pranked by a relaunch of Candid Camera.
She could just see it.
Now we see Willow being greeted by the male stripper posing as a medical practitioner. She does not know the men outside will join him in a moment and do a Magic Mike routine.
“Now, let’s get your pants off.”
Willow’s mouth fell open. Mark grinned again and nodded to the door on her left. “Pop right in there and change into the scrubs.”
Her face flamed as she began mumbling words which were not of the English language.
I really need to get laid.
Clearly her mind was in the gutter, and judging by the handsome man’s grin, he was enjoying her discomfort.
Thirty minutes later, she followed him back to the reception.
Her eyes immediately glanced outside and found her silver-eyed man and one other leaning against a power pole.
She hadn’t stopped thinking about him during her appointment.
The absence of his eyes had left an icy shiver throughout her body that she’d been unable to shake.
He was beautiful, in a dark and dominant way. His hair was black with waves that fell just below his ears, and he had a strong, masculine jaw. Even from here, she could see he hadn’t shaved recently, which gave him that sexy edge women loved. She was one of them.
The jacket he wore only emphasized his muscular upper body, and as he dug his hand into his jean pocket, his T-shirt and pants separated just enough to expose an inch of silky olive skin.
She licked her lips unconsciously. His head turned. She couldn’t breathe. He held her stare for a moment, then glanced between her and Mark.
She whipped her head around as Mark spoke. He was leaning flirtatiously against the counter beside her, smirking.
“I will send the results to your osteopath tomorrow afternoon. They’ll call you and talk through them.”
“So, you can’t tell me anything?” she asked again, trying her luck.
He shook his head. “My expertise is in taking the images. I leave the diagnosis up to your specialist.”
“Not even a hint?” She smiled and lowered her eyelashes. It had been years since she’d flirted, so she must have looked like she had something stuck in her eye.
He laughed, confirming her suspicion, and shoved a piece of paper in her hand. “Not even a hint. Now be gone with you.”
“Fine.” She laughed, and with one last glance at the receptionist, she hoisted her handbag onto her shoulder and stepped out the door.
Like all street-smart women, Willow pretended not to look at the darkly clad men, but she couldn’t help herself.
The second man was also large and muscular, but an inch or two shorter.
He had a very predatory way in which he held himself, which gave off a dangerous vibe the silver-eyed man didn’t have.
Or at least not as much. She was certain they were military or security of some kind.
The closer she got to them, unable to reach her vehicle any other way, the louder her heart thumped in her chest.
Around her, businesses were turning off their lights, closing for the evening, but the area was lit by nearby streetlights, so she felt safe enough.
The men may be supersized—and my God, they were, from their heads to their hands, legs, and arms—but that didn’t make them dangerous. Heck, she was a sucker for bulging biceps. Usually. Today, her inner voice told her to be wary.
A few steps away now, and she felt a zing rush through her. A ringtone broke the silent tension as “Who Let the Dogs Out” filled the night air.
Willow glanced at the man with the silver eyes, and her heart skipped a beat as the corner of his lips twitched. His friend answered his phone and took a few steps away. Silver Eyes stepped away from the pole and watched her. It wasn’t a threatening move, yet it made her tense.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said.
“No. You won’t,” she replied, deliberately looking directly into his eyes in warning.
His smile grew, softening his strong jawline and sending warm shivers through her body. Warmth that had no place being there.
“Good girl.”
God, he was gorgeous. He was just the right amount of bad boy with a spoonful of class. Now that she was closer, she could see just how well his jeans fit, and that his leather jacket was clearly designer. Before she could help herself, a blush hit her cheeks, and she gave him a shy smile.
Damn traitorous body.
Her blush spread its way down her face, across her chest, and descended to her core.
What is wrong with me?
She felt an unreasonable need for him to reach out and touch her. To touch him back.