His Games, Her Rules

“Okay, Camilla, tell me if you can feel this,” I say to the brunette patient lying on the hospital bed as I pinch her wrist. She yelps, yanking away her arm as she gives me a look.

“So sorry about that. I just wanted to be sure you’re fine.”

“I’m fine, really. I guess I’ve been stressing myself too much lately and I needed to take a break.”

“Mmm. If you don’t mind me asking, what has been stressing you?” I ask, replacing her saline bag with a new one. “This will keep you hydrated,” I tell her, referring to the saline bag.

“Well, I’m getting married soon and I’m nervous and afraid I’m going to fuck shit up.”

“Oh.” I sigh. I’ve never been married so I really don’t know how I’m supposed to comfort a person who’s nervous about getting married.

Looking at Camilla, she should be around my age. A Good Samaritan rushed her in not too long ago and according to the man she collapsed at a shopping mall. Luckily, nothing happened to her.

“Well, I don’t know the best advice to give you, but I think you should take it slow for your sake and that of your health. If you love him, then everything will fall into place smoothly. Just don’t overwork yourself. I think it’s okay to get nervous before your big day, it’s a wedding, so it’s normal to be nervous. You’re about to start a new life and a new family, it’s okay to feel the way you’re feeling. You just have to take things slowly and not rush it.” I say as I squeeze her hand gently.

“Thank you for your kind words, Nurse…” she trails off, trying to get my name.

“Robyn.”

“Robyn, huh? You sure look like a Robyn.”

“Thanks?”

“Strange name but it suits you. I’ve never met anyone named Robyn before.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. You’re the first.”

“Oh. That makes me special then.”

Camilla flashes me a small smile. “You could say that.”

“You should rest, your body needs it. And if you need anything don’t hesitate to press this button,” I show her the red button by her bed. “and I’ll be here in a flash.”

“Sure.” Camilla gives me a weak smile and I nod in return.

I turn around to leave her ward but I halt my steps at the figure before me. Dominique Gray is leaning by the door of the hospital ward, dressed in his usual business attire, with his hands in his pockets. His hair is perfectly styled, with a few strands falling on either side of his perfect face. There are a few days of stubble on his chiseled jawline that makes him look more attractive, sexy even.

We lock eyes immediately as Dominique holds my gaze longer than usual. He lets his eyes run over my body that’s cladded in hospital scrubs as he slowly smirks, a half-seductive smirk.

Fuck, how is he more good-looking than the previous day?

What’s he even doing here?

“Dom,” Camilla calls behind me as I slowly turn around, surprised at how she knew who he was. And then it clicks. Camilla Gray. Why didn’t I think of that when I saw her last name?

I think the answer is obvious. There are a thousand people with Gray as their last names, why would I even think for a second that she’s related to Dominique?

“I’m sorry, do you know each other?” I ask.

“Yes. He’s my older brother.” Of course.

“Right,” I turn to look at Dominique and I flash him a small smile. “I’ll leave you two then.”

I sidestep Dominique, catching a whiff of an expensive cologne and his manly scent as I step out of the hospital ward, heading straight for the restroom. It’s my lunch break and I’m freaking hungry. I haven’t had the time to eat something because I’ve been swamped with work. I turn on the faucet in the restroom as I pour water on my face.

For some reason, I feel hot at the sight of Dominique. We haven’t seen each other since the day I woke up in his house, which was a week ago. Two days later, I started remembering little bits of what happened that night. First, it was when he approached me and we talked and he ordered water for me and a glass of bourbon for himself. I couldn’t remember anything else. Then a few days later, every memory started coming back, every stupid thing I said and did.

I was so ashamed, I wanted the earth to swallow me. In fact, I hoped I was never going to see him again. I couldn’t believe I flirted with him. What was I thinking? Not to mention I forgot my panties in his house. Now seeing him today after that incident a week ago, brought back memories I’d rather forget.

Fuck me.

And today he had to look fucking sexy. And the way he held my gaze, even if it was for a short time, I had shivers down my spine and an all too familiar heat that I’d never felt before. My heart beat against my chest and there were tingles in my toes. It made me feel like I was eighteen again, coming face to face with my crush.

Fucking hell.

What is wrong with me? I’ve been with several men but I hate to admit that none of them have made me feel the way Dominique makes me feel and he’s yet to touch me. His eyes, damn his eyes, they do strange things to me that I have never admitted to myself until now. He’s bad news, I know that, but why can’t I just pretend like he doesn’t exist even though he’s hot as sin and he lights my whole body on fire each time he looks at me? No matter how hard I’ve tried to ignore or deny the burning sensation I feel by just his gaze, I can’t. Because whether I like it or not, I want Dominique to do things to me, dirty, filthy things, and I gave him the impression that I may have been attracted to him the day I went to Club Rogue and had too much to drink. And now he thinks and probably knows that I am curious about what he could do with his fingers, his mouth, and every other part of him.

That smug bastard.

He’s going to use that to his advantage. I am never going to win if I continue like this, but I’ll have to try. He needs to know that he can’t get anything or anyone so easily without working for it. He needs to work for it.

I turn off the faucet, feeling a little bolder than a few minutes ago as I walk out of the restroom. I buy a chickpea salad sandwich with a bottle of water as I sit down on a chair in the cafeteria to eat. I scroll through my sister’s Instagram page, stalking her as usual and making sure not to double-tap on her photos or videos. She’s living the life. It would be a shocker if my twin sister would choose a life of comfort over luxury. She would never do that. My twin sister likes the life of luxury, flashy cars, and every other extravagant thing that comes with being the daughter of a billionaire.

I drop my phone face-down on the table and groan into my palms. I’m hungry and I’ve forgotten about my lunch. I grab my sandwich and take a bite, frowning at the bland taste of the sandwich.

How many days old is this anyway?

I drop the sandwich on the platter as I grab the bottle of water and open it, throwing my head back a little to gulp the liquid. I lock the bottle of water and place it on the platter and I push it forward a little, reminding myself to hit the vending machines later.

“You not hungry?” A voice says as I look up, locking eyes with a pair of green eyes.

Doctor Sanders occupies the vacant seat opposite me as he drops a paper bag on the table.Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

“It’s not that. The sandwich tasted weird.”

“You bought it from the hospital?”

“Yeah. It’s just bland.” I say. “Some would think since St. Jose is a big hospital, they would sell better food.”

“Yeah. I also think some of the hospital chefs should be fired.” Doctor Sanders says with a playful grin.

He pushes the paper bag to me and gestures for me to have it. He’s offering me his lunch?

“Oh, no, you don’t have to,” I say, pushing the paper bag back, but Doctor Sanders shakes his head and pushes it toward me, our fingers accidentally touching.

I clear my throat and say, “You really don’t have to.”

“I have eaten something this morning before I came to work. You should have it. A part of me tells me you haven’t had anything to eat throughout today.”

I give him a smile of gratitude and open the paper bag. There’s a chicken sandwich inside and it still looks fresh. I take it out and unwrap it as I take a bite, moaning at the taste. I take another bite, my eyes half-lidded as I moan again and savor the taste.

I could bet my left tit that this isn’t from the hospital.

I open my eyes, shocked to find Doctor Sanders staring at me with a strange look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to react that way toward food. This actually tastes good.” And I’m hungry.

Doctor Sanders clears his throat and nods. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Where did you get it?” I ask, taking another bite.

“Oh, I made it.”

I pause, gently chewing the food in my mouth as I swallow. “You made this? There are not a lot of men in the world who know how to cook.”

“It’s a sandwich, Robyn. I don’t think you need special powers or a talent in cooking to make this.”

“You think?” I smile, shaking my head. “There are men who can’t make a sandwich.”

“Maybe.”

“I’m glad you see where I’m going with this,” I flash Doctor Sanders a genuine smile. “Thank you for this. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

The table falls silent as I eat. Doctor Sanders leans back in his seat as he watches me. His gaze is a little heated and I’m starting to feel weird by his never-ending look. I flash him a nervous smile and stuff the last of the sandwich into my mouth as I chew slowly.

“I’m sorry, do I have something on my face?”

“No.”

“Oh. You’ve been staring.” I chuckle nervously, grabbing my bottle of water and taking a gulp.

“I’m sorry. I just…” he clears his throat again. “Never mind. That was stupid.”

“Mmm.” I hum, twisting back the cover of the bottle as I place it on the table.

“Miss. Denver.” That all too familiar voice calls as Doctor Sanders and I look up. Dominique Gray stands by the side of my table, hands in his pants pockets as he stares at me for a long minute before he shifts his gaze to Doctor Sanders who’s confused by the sudden confrontation by none other than Dominique Gray.