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

  And not for the last time today, I wonder what the hell I’m doing.

  Chapter 5

  It’s when I get a call from Lawrence just before my shift ends that I remember that I had somehow agreed to a date with him, yesterday. He sounds apologetic and nervous, all rolled into one as he asks me if I wouldn’t mind postponing it.

  He sounds so hopeful and puppy-like that I’m already saying yes before I can think of any other response. I end the call with a sigh and Annie, who is hovering nearby, glances at me. “What’s wrong with you?”

  I look down at the tear in my jacket. “Nothing. Just wondering how nice it’d be to be rich.”

  Annie laughs as she changes into her street clothes. “Amen to that, sister.”

  We walk out together and run into Henry who’s talking to Dr. Greer. The doctor looks over my attire and lifts a brow. “Off duty?”

  Since I am the only nurse on this floor that the doctor is remotely civil to, it’s no wonder that Annie doesn’t say a word. “We’re on our way home,” I respond to him.

  Henry frowns. “If you wait for another half hour, you can catch a ride on my bike, Alex. I know how the whole mugging incident left you—”

  “Mugging incident?” Dr. Greer’s tone is sharp and I curse myself for letting the story slip to the softhearted giant in front of me.

  I try to wave it off. “It’s nothing.”

  “You were mugged?” Annie grasps my arm, looking worried. “When? Why didn’t you tell us?” Us being her and Mathilda.

  I shift, uncomfortably. “I got away, so it’s fine.”

  “What if he’s still out there?” she asks, her tone low.

  “Did you report it to the police?” Dr. Greer demands.

  I shake my head, already tired of this conversation. “It was a few days ago and I don’t even remember what the man looked like. Besides, it’s not like he’s skulking around waiting for me to show up.”

  “All the same.” Henry purses his lips, “It’s better to be safe than sorry. If you can wait—”

  “I’ll drive you home,” comes the sudden offer from the tall doctor.

  I blink in shock. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “I insist.”

  Annie nudges at me, glaring at me to shut up and I wonder what’s wrong with her. “I appreciate the offer but I really have no prob—”

  “I’m already leaving so I’m not inconvenienced.” He cuts me off, his tone no-nonsense. He glances toward Annie. “Do you also—”

  Annie immediately waves her hands. “I have a ride. Thanks for asking.”

  “Alright then.” Dr. Greer gives a brisk nod. “Let‘ s go then, Nurse Alexandra.”

  Sighing, I fall into step beside him. “You can just call me Nurse Alex. Alexandra is a mouthful.”

  “It’s your name,” he says, flatly, and I wonder if he’s secretly a robot that finds it hard to communicate with human emotions. I’ve never even seen him be friendly with the other doctors; always a polite but detached veneer.

  His car is a black Mercedes, a shiny, black beauty that screams wealth and I give a rueful smile. “You have a nice car.”

  He pauses as he opens the door for me and I see something like guilt cross his expression before it fades away making me doubt my own eyes. “Thank you.”

  “Where do you live?” he asks.

  I give out my address. I don’t know why it surprises me that he’s such a careful driver. Everything about this man screams control. It’s kind of funny and sad at the same time.

  We drive in silence but it’s not uncomfortable. I’m tired from this whole day. I want to go home to an empty apartment and curl up on the couch and watch TV. But my apartment isn’t empty and the TV has been broken for a really long time.

  “I remember you used to have a car.” He suddenly breaks the silence, his eyes on the road, startling me.

  “Ah, yeah.” I recall the white clunker that I’d purchased a few years ago.

  “You used to be quite fond of it.” His every word is measured and I blink at him, surprised that he would remember that.

  I glance out the window, “Yeah. I sold it.”

  “Why?”

  The question is so rude, so intrusive, so unlike him, that it has me stammering. “I—No particular reason. I prefer walking.”

  I don’t want pity. That’s the last thing I need. After the incident from this afternoon, I just—I don’t want somebody to look at me with eyes full of pity.

  Poor little Alex.

  My teeth grit at the thought.

  “Having a car would be convenient, considering you live more than an hour away by foot.”

  He’s clearly not done with the topic.

  So, I go for the most annoying and vague response possible. “It is what it is.”

  Make sense of that, I think viciously.

  I feel his eyes on me but before he can say anything, my phone rings with a sharp trill, making me jump. I grapple for it in my purse and take it out. I give Dr. Greer an apologetic look. “I have to take this.”

  He nods and I press the phone to my ear. “Chen, hi. I’m nearly home so I’ll just pick it up—No, put it on my tab. I’ll pay you when my paycheck comes.”

  I can see Dr. Greer watching me as Chen demands why I’m asking for two servings of soup, and I rub the bridge of my nose. “I have a guest staying over. He’s not well, so one serving is for him.”

  Pacifying Chen, who sounds suspicious, takes a few more minutes and by the time I end the call, I know he’ll come sniffing around to see this ‘friend’ that I’ve never brought up before.

  “Your boyfriend?” Dr. Greer asks in a casual tone.

  I glance at him. “No, my neighbor. He runs a Chinese place around the corner from my apartment.”

  He doesn’t comment on that and considering how chatty he’s being, I half expect him to offer to check in on my ‘unwell guest’. Fortunately, it doesn’t come to that.

  “You can drop me off here,” I say, as I glimpse the brightly lit restaurant in the distance. “I can—”

  “You pick up what you need and I’ll drop you off at your apartment.”

  “You really don’t have to,” I protest.

  He gives me a stern look. “It’s late. You shouldn’t be wandering around in the dark in this sort of neighborhood.”

  I feel slightly dazed at the almost ‘parental’ scolding I’m receiving, despite the fact that Dr. Greer is probably only three or four years older than me.

  “O-Okay.”

  I really don’t know what else to say.

  He parks in front of the restaurant and I rush inside to grab the awaiting containers. Chen gives me a baffled look. “What’s your hurry?” He glances behind me toward the large windows which do not conceal the gleaming Mercedes parked right outside, and continues, “What’s with the car?”

  “One of the doctors gave me a ride back home,” I tell him, hurriedly, grabbing the soup containers.

  “I threw in some fried prawn tempura,” Chen calls out after me as I nearly run to the car, not wanting to impose on Dr. Greer more than I already have.

  I wave over my shoulder, saying loudly, “Thanks! I owe you!”

  I slide into the car, flushed and out of breath and for a second I think I see Dr. Greer’s lips twitch but when I blink, he has that same placid expression on his face. “Put on your seatbelt.”

  “But my apartment is right around the corner,.” I point out.

  He lifts a brow. “Safety isn’t a joke, Nurse Alexandra. Put the seatbelt on.”

  I grumble under my breath, duly chastised, but move to obey him. Once the lock clicks, he throws the car into motion.

  My neighborhood isn’t the best but it’s not exactly poverty stricken either. I see a few junkies hanging around the alley, minding their own business and I ignore them as I get out of the car. “Thank you for the ride. I really appreciate it.”

  Dr. Greer studies me, his expression strange as if he wants to say something but can’t. Finally, he says. “I live five minutes away from here. I don’t mind giving you a ride when our shifts align.”

  I have the strangest feeling that that is not what he had intended to say at all, but I shake my free hand, feeling too indebted. “That’s very kind of you but—”

  “It’s convenient.” He cuts me off, and the words feel forced. “I know you go the extra mile for any patients I ask you to look after, so this will make us even.” Before I can even open my mouth, he continues. “It also conserves gas. And it makes no sense that we’re traveling the same route but using different mediums of transport.”

  His logic is so sound and yet so flawed, that I don’t know what to say. I stare at him, bewildered by this sudden change in attitude.

  “I—” I take in a deep breath in an attempt to get my scattered thoughts in order. “Once again, I appreciate the offer, Dr. Greer, but I can’t take you up on that.” I have to draw lines and while I can’t wrap my head around whatever this is, I can’t go around accepting favors, favors that I might not be able to pay back.

  He doesn’t look very happy with my decision but nods. “Just think about it.”

  I sigh, internally.

  Closing the car door, I make my way to the front door of the building and when I don’t hear the silent purr of the car moving away, I look over my shoulder to see him still sitting there, a patient look on his face. Then I realize that he’s waiting for me to go in before he leaves and if that isn’t the sweetest thing a man has ever done for me, I don’t know what is. My lips curve in an involuntary smile and I lift a hand to wave at him before ducking inside and closing the door behind me.

  As I check my mailbox, I wonder for a second whether he’s hitting on me but I discard the thought almost immediat
ely. I didn’t get any vibes from him that he was interested in me. It was almost protective, his behavior.

  Strange man. Sweet, though.

  My lips are curved in a smile as I walk toward the steps. Suddenly, an unfamiliar ‘ding’ has me looking over and my eyes widen as I see the elevator doors, which haven’t worked for as long as I can remember, open. I recognize my young neighbor, Dan, as he steps out looking ridiculously pleased.

  “Alex, check this out.” The grin on his face is wide. “Some dudes came over this afternoon and fixed up the elevator and the heating. This is so freaking awesome! I was beginning to think I would never feel my legs again.”

  I stare at him. “Who—?”

  He shakes his head. “I dunno, man. It was some young looking dude. Looked like he had a stick up his ass or something.”

  My thoughts immediately go to Matt but why would he do something like that and how would he even be able to afford those kind of repairs or get permission?

  I shake my head, both baffled and suspicious. It’s simply not possible. I watch Dan leave before stepping into the elevator. Pressing the button for my floor, I purse my lips, some of Dan’s enthusiasm leaking into me. I won’t have to climb those damned stairs anymore.

  I get off at my floor and make my way to my apartment, the containers feeling heavy in my hand. Fitting my key in the lock and twisting it, I enter my apartment. I can feel the change before I see it.

  The apartment isn’t cold. I step into the cramped foyer and tug off my shoes. Entering the living room, I blink, a strange feeling creeping inside of me.

  The broken coffee table is no longer there. In its place is a heavy looking wooden table which is larger, and looks sleek and fancy enough for me to know that it could easily cost me more than two months of salary.

  Even my couch is gone. I don’t recognize the L-shaped sofa which looks like one can sink into it. The ratty looking rug has been replaced by a deep blue furred rug on which the coffee table sits. There is a large flatscreen in place of the television, and I stare at it blankly, bewildered.

  There are other small changes that I don’t really focus on as I take in what has happened over the span of these nine hours that I wasn’t home.

  Matt’s disdainful words swim in my ears and my cheeks flush a bright red and angry tears glitter in my eyes. Sure, these things are beautiful and most certainly more comfortable than what I had. But they aren’t mine.

  Before I can muster any other thought, the bedroom door opens and I see Damien walk out, his gait slow as he tries not to pull apart his stitches. There’s a welcoming smirk on his lips. “Mon chéri, welcome—”

  I turn to stare at him, not bothering to conceal my expression and he freezes. “What’s wrong?”

  When he steps toward me, I immediately take a step back. It’s difficult to force the words out when all I wish for in this moment is that I had never met him or his friends so that I could never feel this small again.

  “Where are my things?” I hiss, my tone hard.

  He blinks. “They’re gone.”

  I take in a shuddering breath, trying to compose myself. “Gone where?”

  He studies me for a few seconds before responding, his tone cautious. “Did they hold any sentimental value to you?”

  No, they didn’t. They were secondhand things I had salvaged money to buy. But they belonged to me. In a world where I have so few possessions, the loss of even those worthless things hurts.

  “That’s not what I asked.” I glare at him.

  “They’re safe.”

  My shoulders sag in relief and my knees feel weak.

  Swallowing, I look at him and I push down on the bitterness that is rearing its head inside of me. My words are measured. “These might not be the ideal accommodations for you but I would appreciate it if you don’t replace my belongings. You’re just here for a week.”

  He doesn’t respond to that and despite the fact that I’ve tried to keep my face as expressionless as possible, it feels that he can see right through me to the hurt little girl who’s been completely savaged today.

  “I heard you met Matt.”

  His words have me jerking as if I’ve been slapped and I pale before tightening my fist around the bag in my hand. “Yes.”

  Unable to look at that wickedly handsome face, I make my way to the adjoining kitchen space and put down the containers. I shrug out of my jacket and purse and hesitate before placing them on the sofa.

  “Braden said you might be upset over something he said to you.”

  I shrug my shoulders, my back to him. “We didn’t talk much. I had other patients to see.”

  I feel his presence before I see his shadow fall over me, as he effectively cages me against the kitchen counter. He’s not touching me but I can feel his breath on my nape, ruffling my short hair, his arms on either side of me. If I turn to face him there wouldn’t be an inch of space between us.

  “I told you, you can’t touch me.”

  “I’m not touching you,” comes the gladden reply.

  “This counts.”

  “How?”

  “You’re in my personal space.”

  “You never said anything about personal space.”

  “It was implied.”

  A rough chuckle that feels like it’s stroking against my skin comes from him. “How can I seduce you when I can’t even get under your skin?”

  I growl. “I don’t want you to seduce me.”

  “Mon chéri, I disagree.”

  My brows lower into a forced frown even as his words tug at me, making my stomach quiver, and I turn around without thinking. My hand comes up to rest against his chest as if I mean to push him away and I freeze, at both the proximity and the fact that I might hurt his wound.

  He lifts a brow and then one hand comes up to circle around my wrist and then I watch dazed, as he lifts my limp hand and brings it to his mouth to nibble at the fingertips, his wild green eyes on mine. His hot mouth on my fingers wreaks havoc on my defenses and I stare at him, unable to do anything but stand there as he gently nips at my fingers.

  “What did he say to you?”

  The repeated question is like a cold bucket of water tossed onto my head and I blink, forced out of this sudden enthrallment. I try to tug my hand back but his grip is firm.

  I’m trapped.

  “Nothing,” I grit out. “He didn’t say anything.”

  Damien smiles at me indulgently. “You’re a little liar.”

  His smile is just as devastating as his smirk. It gives a gentle look to his face and yet something dark and hungry watches me from behind those eyes.

  “Why do you care what he said to me?” I spit out.

  He gives me a punishing nip for my impudent tone, his words idle. “So, I can figure out the best way to make him pay.”

  My lips tremble at that, taken aback at his words. “W-What? Why would you—?”

  “He hurt you.”

  Damien’s words were simple, his reasoning straightforward and yet I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

  “He’s your friend.”

  He watches me through hooded eyes and I realize that I’m not even protesting what he’s doing to my fingers. “What’s your point, mon chéri?”

  “Why would you go that far for me?”

  He stills at that as if he’s not considered it. Then his shoulders relax. “Because I like you.”

  “You just met me,” I retort.

  For countless months, I’ve been a pale faced ghost, after my father’s death, a growing numbness taking up residence inside of me, and this man draws reactions from me, one after the other. It stuns me and scares me, at how responsive I am to him.

  His tongue darts out and licks the pad of my thumb in a way that has me whimpering. His eyes darken at the sound. “Then I must be an unreasonable person.” His other hand comes up to cup my face as he brushes his thumb over my cheek, his tone almost menacing. “I warned Matt to behave himself around you but he doesn’t seem to listen. He made you cry.”

  I stiffen at his words, even if they are slightly true.

  “I most certainly did not cry!”

  “There were tears in your eyes. Braden saw them.”

  “Braden’s a little snitch!” I blurt out, both embarrassed and furious. I yank my hand back from him, lifting myself to my full height and look at him, despite the fact that my eyes only reach until his shoulders. “Listen, Dam—pal,” I try to sound tough, “I’m not going to let some snot-nosed little kid make me cry. Got it? There was something in my eye and that’s it.”