Immortal Healer by Elizabeth Finn

counter where he worked on his laptop. She’d been watching TV on the wall mounted flat panel television by the hospital bed for nearly two hours. It was the longest she’d been awake in the past two days, and she finally felt ready to be alive again. She was tired of being sick, as though she’d made a decision to simply turn it off, but there it was. She was going to be well. And now, damnit!
    “Are you sure you’re strong enough?” She didn’t care whether she was or not. She nodded her head, and he moved to the counter behind him, grabbing a cotton ball. She watched as he unhooked the I.V. from its line and swiftly pulled the line from her vein as he replaced it with the cotton ball. His hands looked so clean and perfect against her own. The sponge bath helped, but there was no fixing this kind of dirty but a bath. He held out his hand as she slid from the bed.
    She was weak. More than weak. Her legs wobbled, and her joints ached. She was ready to simply curl up in a nice warm bed again in her exhaustion, but she’d prefer to be clean first. He led her from the room with a firm grip on her waist, and his other hand on her elbow. But he didn’t take her to the clinic’s bathroom. The clinic also connected to a small corridor that led back through a large and lavish office, lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves and then into an expansive bedroom she could only assume was his. She hadn’t seen his bedroom during her short stay with him before, and as they exited the office, she looked around his private space. It had the same tall ceilings and French doors that led to a balcony. Drapes hung from floor to ceiling, and they were open to the night beyond. The French doors stood wide open, and a cool breeze left her skin prickling in goose bumps.
    His hand on her elbow moved to stroke her shoulder as the bumps popped from her skin, and she shivered. His bathroom adjoined the bedroom on the other side of the room from the office, and it was massive. The bathtub was a large soaker tub with a wide ledge across the front. He left her sitting on a small bench against the wall as he moved to run the water. She watched him. His skin was so impressively smooth, and it left her fingers itching to stroke his cheek. He bent over to the bathtub, adjusting and testing the temperature of the water, and her gaze traveled to his bottom. His pants were a gray wool, summer weight, and they showed the contour and strength of his buttocks in their slim fit.
    Her skin was flushed and warm as she studied the strong cheeks under the fabric. God, she wanted to touch him. He was stepping out of the safety of that other world and straight into this one, challenging what she was willing to feel about him. It was trust, desire, want. When he turned to her, her eyes moved away from his body but not quick enough. He said nothing though, he simply watched her with his incredible grayish blue eyes while his jaw tightened again.
    He approached, and after helping her to her feet, he reached to her shoulders. His fingers slipped beneath the thin straps of the gown as he started to ease them down her shoulders. A flash of panic hit like a jolt of energy through her system, and her hands flew up to grab his forearms. He didn’t flinch—didn’t react in any way—he just watched her steadily. He had the damn unnerving ability of showing no reaction to her he didn’t wish her to see.
    “You’re far too weak to do this on your own. I’m a doctor, and I’ve seen every body imaginable, and that includes yours.” His voice was warm, almost seductive as he spoke. “Besides, your figure is really quite lovely.”
    “Well, that’s not very doctorly.” Her voice was weak and raspy. She was trying to be sarcastic and strong, but it was lost in her nervousness.
    “No, I suppose it isn’t.” His voice was suddenly as quiet and unsure as hers, but it didn’t stop him from patiently waiting for her to release her hold on his arms. When she dropped her