Wintertime Bad Boy: A Christmas Suspense Romance (Alphas Unboxed Book 3) Read online

  “Go home, mon chéri,” he says, his voice low like velvet against a ragged blade. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might end up taking you home.”

  His words make me whimper and then I’m turning on my heel and start running.

  I keep running without looking back until I reach my building.

  My hands fumble with the keys as I force my way in. The familiar musty smell of the carpeted hallway makes me let out a sigh of relief. My eyes turn toward the broken elevator that hasn’t been fixed since the day I moved in three years ago.

  I begin the trek up seven flights of stairs and by the time I reach the top, I’m sweating like crazy. Who needs the gym when I have my own personal stairs from hell?

  I quickly enter my apartment and switch on the lights. I lock the door.

  Two steps in and everything hits me all at once and I groan in mortification.

  A random stranger just kissed me after saving my life and I liked it.

  I stand still in the middle of my small apartment and stare blindly at the window. What had I been thinking? Why had I let him get away with it?

  Feeling uneasy, my hand creeps up to my neck and I remember the wound and a different kind of shock filters into my mind and my knees shake. I had nearly died today.

  I take in a shaky breath and then make my way to the first aid kit. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I treat my wound, cleaning it for any infection, and after bandaging it, I look at my knees. Taking off my leggings, I wince on seeing the damaged skin. I use some antiseptic on my legs and I put on my sweatpants that are hanging behind the bathroom door.

  My apartment has two rooms, a living room with an attached kitchen and a bedroom. The bathroom is right next to the entrance. I don’t have much furniture, what little I have is from the flea markets that I visit. I’ve sold nearly everything I had of value to pay for my father’s treatment.

  Sighing, I exit the bathroom, realizing with a pang that I forgot to go to Chen Li’s restaurant. I glance at the phone. He lives underneath my apartment and I know his place closes at one. Hesitantly, I pick up the phone.

  A friendly voice answers. It takes two minutes and Chen reassures me that he’ll come by with some food. I curl up on the couch, waiting for him. The television isn’t working or I would have turned it on to drown out the silence that’s grating at my nerves.

  I can hear the ticking of the wall clock and I let myself be soothed by it, carefully keeping my mind blank, not wanting to think about the events that just transpired. A knock on my door a while later has me unfolding myself from the couch.

  Chen Li is short and Chinese and has the kindest smile I’ve ever seen. He’s also ten years older than me, although he looks younger.

  “Why didn’t you stop by?” he asks, entering my apartment with the ease of someone who has been here plenty of times.

  I trail after him as he takes out a plate and utensils from the kitchen. “I got mugged or nearly mugged.”

  My explanation makes him freeze and he whirls around, alarmed. “Are you okay?”

  I’m about to nod but then I shake my head. “I need a hug.”

  An affectionate look crosses over his features and he sidles up to me, wrapping his arms around me. “You all right, kid?”

  I shrug, taking in his scent that screams of soy sauce and garlic. “It just hit me that I was alone in this world and then I decided to take a trip down depression avenue.”

  He pulls back and studies my face. “You’re overworked. Don’t you have a day off tomorrow?”

  I nod.

  “Go out. Go to a café, read a book, watch a movie. Take a long walk. Come by the restaurant for lunch.”

  His words sketch a painting of what tomorrow might look like and it’s oddly appealing.

  “You need to unwind.”

  An image crosses in my head of a tall Frenchman with an insolent smirk on his face and I bury it immediately, feeling horrified at even thinking of that man.

  “A walk sounds nice,” I admit, slowly.

  I could also go to the shooting range; work out some of the stress that’s been building up.

  Chen keeps me company for an hour until we finish dinner. I recount the entire incident to him, leaving out the kiss part and he looks relieved. “Well I’m glad you’re safe. Next time, take a taxi or just stay at the hospital. Don’t walk home when it is so late.”

  My mood is a little bit lighter by the time he leaves and I begin to look forward to tomorrow with some anticipation. I haven’t had a day off in weeks and I clean up with a small smile on my face. By the time, I’m done, I’m mentally exhausted and I crawl into bed. The room is cold and I shiver. Maybe it’s from the events of tonight. As I slip into an uneasy sleep, I dream of drunk men with knives and tall Frenchmen who touch me, setting my skin on all kinds of fire.

  When I wake up in the morning, I don’t remember exactly what I dreamed of, but my skin is dewy and the place between my legs is throbbing.

  Damn you Frenchman!

  Chapter 2

  “Well, aren’t you glowing?”

  I smile at Annie’s comment and I turn to look over to where she is leaning against the nurse’s station, grinning. I flex my arms. “I needed a break I guess.”

  Her eyes run over me, approvingly. “You sure did. You were beginning to look half dead. What did you do yesterday?”

  I nod to a patient who hands me his filled in form and I start updating it in the system, all the while saying, “I watched a movie, went for a walk, cleaned my apartment and then just napped.”

  A heavy sigh comes from across the room as another junior nurse joins us. “I vaguely remember what naps are.”

  Mathilda gives me a wistful look. “You look better. Did you take a shower?”

  I narrow my eyes, “Are you saying I don’t shower?”

  She grins. “You said it, not me.”

  I give the patient a token and tell him to sit down and someone will be with him shortly.

  Annie is flipping through a file and she suddenly looks up. “Don’t we get off at nine today?”

  Mathilda blinks. “Oh, the working hour thing. I forgot about that.”

  I look around the waiting room before studying the two of them. “What working hour thing?”

  Mathilda is the one to explain. “The Chief said that we can only work overtime three days a week.”

  Her voice lowers. “Apparently, Mark nearly made a fatal mistake with Mrs. Epstein because he’s being doing overtime all of the last week and the Chief was pissed. So, he’s monitoring all overtime and extra shifts now.”

  I purse my lips, worried. “I need that overtime.”

  My jaw tightens as I think of the loans that I have to pay back and as I sit there, listening to them talk, my mind races as I try to think of whether I can get a part-time job that I can work on my days off.

  The sounds of the doors banging open has all of us jumping to our feet as paramedics rush in, bringing in a bleeding man on a gurney. I force my worries aside and my tone is clipped, “What happened?”

  “Bike accident. Crashed into a truck.”

  “Page Dr. Grant,” I order Mathilda as I hurry over to the patient. “Let’s move him to the trauma room. Move fast.” A terse nod and everyone falls into their roles. A glance at the man’s bloodied face stirs something in me. He looks familiar for some reason but I can’t place him.

  Dr. Grant arrives and I list out the injuries that I’ve assessed so far. She’s scrubbing for surgery in the next few minutes as I take the patient for prep.

  He jolts in consciousness and grasps my white sleeve, staining it with his bloodstained fingers, his voice a hoarse rasp. “Damien! H-help him!”

  I freeze before, curling my hand around his.

  My tone is urgent. “Was there someone else with you?”

  His eyes are rolling into the back of his head, and my hand tightens around his. “Sir?”

  His hand goes limp and I swallow and as soon as he’s taken into surgery, I make my way toward the paramedics. “Was there anybody else at the scene?”

  The paramedic, a young good looking man, shakes his head. “When we got to the scene, it was just him. Witnesses saw a truck leaving and he was lying by the side of the road.”

  I purse my lips, hoping that the patient had just been delusional.

  The man’s personal belongings reveal that he has an emergency contact and I try to get in touch with a guy named Matt Sawyer. When he doesn’t answer his phone, I leave a voice message.

  I have enough work to do but when I find out that the patient, Braden Fox, has been moved into the intensive care unit, I change my rounds to go take a look at him.

  I don’t enter the room but study him through the clear glass. Broken arm, fractured ribs, head injury, internal bleeding, he’s lucky to be alive. Dr. Grant managed to save him. Just needs close monitoring and he will be fine as long as he takes the time to recuperate. Footsteps followed by a soft sigh make me turn.

  “Difficult surgery?” l ask quietly.

  Jen, one of the best doctors we have on staff and my childhood friend looks exhausted. “Lucky bastard. He refused to let go.” Her hand trembles as she shoves it into her pocket. “It was touch and go there for a second.”

  I turn my attention back to the unconscious man. “He looks familiar.”

  I feel Jen’s eyes on me. “You know him?”

  I shake my head. “I’ve seen him somewhere before. Can’t place him though.”

  I feel her hand on my shoulder and I turn to face her. Concern is written all over her face. “How are you doing, Alex?”

  I give her a weak smile.“Some days are better than most.”

  “Oh, honey.” She flings her arm around my neck and rests her head on
top of mine in a familiar gesture. “I wish you’d just move in with me. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  Love fills the empty crevices of my heart.

  There are still people out there who care about me. It’s easy to forget about them when I’m sinking into my grief but the fact remains that if I allow myself to lean against somebody, I have people, friends, who will stand by me. But it’s hard for me to reach out. I don’t know how.

  So, I stand there, accepting the affection being offered. “You know why I can’t.”

  Jen scowls, complaining. “I have the extra bedroom and you sleep over on the weekends, anyway. I don’t see what’s the problem.”

  My lips twitch. “Not every weekend.”

  She looks sulky and releases me. “You’re so stubborn.”

  I smile at her. “And yet you love me.”

  She gives me a helplessly charmed smile. “You’re very lovable, Alex.”

  I push away her hands, laughing, when she gets that mischievous look in her eyes and puckers her lips. “Stop it.”

  She grins. “There’s that smile. You’ve been too gloomy lately. I miss you.”

  My smile softens. “I miss you too.” I look towards the mirror. “l’ll be back in fighting form. Just give me a little more time.”

  “As long as you need.” She squeezes my hand, gently, and I feel the rush of tears in my eyes which I force back.

  We stand there facing the patient in silence until her pager beeps and she fumbles with it. “I gotta go. Mr. Hensen has a bout of chest pain.”

  “Again?”

  She looks annoyed. “I swear he’s faking half of them.” As she starts walking away, she tosses over her shoulder, “It’s Friday. Let’s go to a bar after you get off.”

  I hesitate and she whirls around, pointing both fingers at me as she walks backward, winking. “I’ll buy.”

  “How can I say no then?” My smile is broad.

  It’s only noon and I get consumed in work, checking in with the paramedics and clearing them. The guy I had talked to before is watching me and I wonder whether there’s something on my face. I hand him the papers to sign and clear my throat. “Well, that’s that. You have a good day, Lawrence.”

  He doesn’t move and I feel Annie’s curious gaze settle on me and I fidget in my seat, not knowing what he wants. “Is there anything else?”

  He scratches his hair, his face a little red. “Ah, I was wondering—I mean, if you’re up for it—W-When do you get off work?”

  It’s been a while since I’ve dated. Two years to be precise, so I don’t really catch on to what he’s hinting at. So, I stare at him, asking stupidly, “Why?”

  I hear a snort form behind me and Annie shoves me aside and leans on the counter. “She gets off at nine. What do you have in mind?”

  I stare at Annie. “What?” And then it hits me and my eyes widen. “Ah, no, I—I have plans tonight.”

  Mathilda who’s doing some filing, looks up, fascinated. “You have plans?” And as if she hasn’t just broadcasted my lack of a social life, she repeats loudly, “You?!”

  I glare at her. “Yes. I’m going out with a friend.”

  She studies me as if to determine whether I’m pulling a fast one on her or not, and then she narrows her eyes. “You’re serious?”

  Annie looks just as intrigued. “Who’s this friend?”

  Meanwhile poor Lawrence has been abandoned and he awkwardly shuffles his feet, looking like he would rather be anywhere else.

  “A friend,” I repeat, grumbling internally and then I look toward the discomfited man. “Sorry.”

  He brightens up when he sees me looking so apologetic. “Tomorrow, then?”

  I blink, feeling a little uneasy. Getting back in the dating game isn’t exactly something which has been a top priority for me. But as I see the hopeful look in his eyes, I wonder if it would be that bad. However, Annie takes the choice out of my hands, neatly, beaming at him. “Of course she’s free tomorrow. Why don’t you leave your number, cutie?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to date him?” I mutter under my breath and her smile doesn’t falter as she elbows me in the side making me hiss out.

  Lawrence glances between us and then his cheeks turn red as he writes down his number on a piece of paper and hands it to me. Annie plucks it from his fingers. “See you tomorrow!”

  He really is kind of cute, I muse, and then I turn to glare at my friend. “Do you see me setting you up on dates?”

  Annie fans herself with the piece of paper. “You’re welcome.”

  Mathilda straightens up and walks over. “He’s hot and so shy that it makes me want to rip his clothes off.”

  “Aren’t you engaged?” I raise a brow.

  She gives me an innocent smile. “There’s no harm in window shopping.”

  “Come on guys,” I try to beseech them. “I really don’t want to go on a date.”

  Annie rolls her eyes. “When was the last time you had sex?”

  I blush, fiercely. “Shut up.”

  She snorts. “From the look of you, it’s been a while.” She puts a hand on my shoulder, her expression serious. “You need a good fuck.”

  I bury my face in my hands, groaning. “I need new friends.”

  “Nurse Alexandra,” comes a sharp voice.

  I stiffen and lift my head. “Dr. Greer. Do you need something?”

  Dr. Harris Greer is one of one of the senior doctors and he’s known for being picky about the smallest of things. He joined the hospital just a week after I returned from my leave. He’s tall and good-looking with that classic all-American blonde hair and blue eyes. The nurses find him incredibly attractive. But I’ve never really looked at him that way.

  He’s always calm and composed, a certain aloofness about him that makes even the other doctors hesitant to approach him. There are plenty of rumors about him in the hospital about how he was a child prodigy who bounced from foster home to foster home until he finally put himself through medical school when he was eighteen. There’s no denying that he is extremely hardworking. He’s one of the most dedicated doctors I’ve seen in this place.

  For some reason though, while his interaction with other nurses is minimal, when it comes to me, he’s always after me to handle his patients exclusively. Out of everyone who works in the hospital, I’m the only one who has the most interaction with him.

  “Come with me,” he orders and I follow after him obediently, feeling a little irked at being commanded around.

  “Freddie Denver.” He hands me a file. “I assigned you to her case. Why is Nurse Jackie looking after my patient?”

  We’ve rounded the corner and are standing in an empty hall now and he turns around to face me, his arms crossed over his chest. I give him a calm look. “Did she do something wrong?”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  The sheer arrogance of him ruffles my feathers and my fiery personality which has been buried deep inside me, rears its head, and I blink, slowly. “I have a lot of patients to look after. And Nurse Jackie looked in on Freddie after shift change. You can hardly expect me to stay past my shift because of your patient.” His eyes widen fractionally, probably at my frosty tone, but I don’t let him get a word in edgewise, as I continue. “Nurse Jackie is more qualified than I am so unless you want to launch a complaint about me not putting in overtime to see to your patient, I don’t think we have a problem here.”

  His jaw tightens and I see a flash of some emotion in his eyes before he tilts his head, and studies me. The sudden silence makes me realize what just came out of my mouth but it’s too late to take back any of it. I’m not his personal nurse to run about after each and every one of his patients. I cross my fingers in my heart and hope I’ve not pissed him off too much.

  For a second, I imagine the ghost of a smile on his face before it returns to that impassive expression. “I understand.”

  I’m about to let out a breath of relief when he continues. “However, only for when you’re not on shift. Otherwise, I prefer you to handle my patients.” He pauses as if the next part isn’t easy for him. “They like your bedside manner.”

  He walks away from me and I stand there, baffled.

  Was I just complimented?

  I stare at his retreating back, stunned beyond belief.