Page 200 of Screwged for Christmas

Chin tilted high, she stared into his eyes, mentally prepared for anything. “Believe me I think I already had a little too much Savage Fire for one day.”

“You’re stronger than you think.”

He stood so close she couldn’t take a half breath without inhaling everything that made up Damon Savage and suddenly she wanted to know everything about him.

“Believe me, Ivy, you’ll know when you have a Savage Fire in your hands.”

She didn’t miss the hidden message in the otherwise innocent words. She didn’t need to read his shuttered gaze to know his words went deeper than just the drink his famed drink. Though tempted to push his limits and toy a bit with his on-again-off-again antics, she decided against poking the bear and bit her tongue instead of taking the bait he dangled between them.

The way her name rolled off his tongue made her smile, and she took delight in the small things. As if he made love to the double syllables before letting them fall from his lips.

Gah, she needed a shower. Now and preferably ice cold. Her blood alcohol level must be hitting sky high. She didn’t know how she wasn’t seeing double of him.

He leaned across her and flicked the knob and let the door slowly swing open to reveal a softly lit office with a single window on the far wall.

“What about you? Though the female population probably doesn’t mind its men running around like Tarzan, you have to be cold.”

He retrieved a key from behind the bar to his left and somewhere out of her line of sight. “I’ll use the one upstairs. See you in a few.” She watched as he turned to go, quickly swallowed by the crowd.

“Good heavens, that man is walking temptation.”

Behind closed doors, she stood with her head tilted back and rapped the back of her knuckles across her lips. It had been a quick kiss, but she could still feel the warmth of his lips against hers, the brush of his day-old beard across the smoothness of her chin. His steely attitude afterward would never erase how his lips claimed hers. The man stirred sensations in her she couldn’t ignore, and that was a problem. She had three days here. Long enough to tell her sister she didn’t have to worry about med school payments anymore and short enough not to grow attached to anyone. Keep it simple. That was her rule.

Keep. It. Simple.

Her two suitcases and a small single travel bag were where he promised. Parked up against the back wall in the only open space that didn’t harbor one of several brown leather sofas or overly plump chairs that looked like a dream to spend a Sunday in reading the hours away.

The lock slinked into place with a flick of her wrist, and she immediately went to work on stripping off the wet socks and equally wet long johns. Plush beige carpet covered every inch of flooring, and her bare toes sank into the soft, cushiony threads. Pleasure sent her eyes rolling back and she was very tempted to curl up under her blanket and take a nap right then and there.

To the left and behind a heavy oak desk, bookshelves lined the expanse of the walls from ceiling to floor with lamps in either corner. Several of the shelves held family pictures, hand carvings of various animals here and there and ribbons or trophies were tucked in like little memories.

She made her way around the small office that was bigger than her bedroom and kitchen put together back home. In the center of the room, a rich brown leather chair hugged a hand-carved desk weighted down by various stacks of papers and a single photo of a smiling woman. Ivy made her way over for a closer look and palmed the heavy silver frame. Soft golden eyes stared back at her, her smile as wide and accented by the trademark dimple she’d discovered all the Savage siblings she’d met shared.

She couldn’t help but wonder what made this one picture so special to earn a solitary spot on the desk.

Metal crashed, and whoops and hollers broke out beyond the locked door. She returned the picture to its place in the center of the desk. From across the room, the faint chirp of her phone sounded. She fished out the cell phone and glanced at the screen, only to cringe as the familiar face of her friend. Dread slinked in until the office slipped behind a shimmering wall of tears. Suddenly her head ached and her mind went back to forty-eight hours previous to her flight here. She plopped down on the leather sofa and cradled her face in her hands, ignoring the call.

A little red dot flashed on her screen that signaled a message in her inbox.

Get your head on straight or don’t come back at all.Her supervisor’s last words to her before she clocked out of her six-week rotation plagued her mind.

Before she could stop herself, she clicked the red dot and the kind voice of her best friend played over the speaker.

“Hey, lady. Did you tell her yet? Maybe you should reconsider? You know, just don't give up everything overnight.”

A pause.

“It wasn’t your fault, Ivy. You tried your best. Even the overseeing doctor said you made the best call. Call me back when you get this.”

Ivy ended the message and hit delete.

Her best call, as her friend put it, hadn’t helped, and now a mother of three lost her life because Ivy couldn’t save her in time. The drugs had already seeped into her system by the time they’d gotten to her. Now, three small children were doomed to live the life she’d experienced as their mother lay in a grave from an overdose.

Tears welled and slid down Ivy’s cheeks.

A shower, then dry clothes and maybe a plate of food. A little focus helped the tears dry up. But the sadness in her heart burrowed deeper like an unwanted sickness.

She gathered her supplies and made her way to the only other door that led to the bathroom. She flicked the switch and instantly realized a pattern with Damon.

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