Animal Instincts [The Andersons 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (6 page)

* * * *

“Mr. Donovan, any chance you might be pregnant?”

Rex laughed at his own joke and indicated to Donovan to hold Reggie still while he took a series of X-rays along the entire length of the snake’s body.

“If I am, I won’t be the first. Didn’t a man give birth last year? Well, I say a man, but really,
he
was a she
who kept all his, or rather
her
, interior plumbing. If you know what I mean. A serious oddball if you ask me. It’s the kid I feel sorry for. Not knowing to call mummy ‘Mummy’ or ‘Daddy.’”

Rex glanced up at Donovan, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. As he processed the films, he decided to ask about Reggie. “How long have you had Reggie?”

“Since he was a baby. It’ll be a year next month.”

“What do you feed him?”

“Rodents and other small animals. I buy ’em online from a specialized store. Reggie’s well cared for. He don’t want for nothing. I know he looks menacing, probably scared the crap out of the little lady, but he’s real friendly. You give him love and respect, he’ll give it back.”

Rex smiled at the obvious pride to Donovan’s tone as he patted the snake on the head and gently coiled him up and placed him back in his box. His smile widened when he noticed Reggie eyeing his master with a “no-don’t-put-me-back-in-here” look before the lid blocked him from view.

He chose an X-ray taken of the midsection and held it up to the light, where he instantly spotted the problem. To be certain of his diagnosis, he attached it to the lighted display screen on the wall. “Do you play a racquet sport, Mr. Donovan? Badminton, maybe?”

“The wife does. Why?”

“Because”—Rex pointed to a white conical-shaped object—“it looks like Reggie has swallowed a shuttlecock. As you can see, it’s somehow become stuck at the bottom of the gullet. No wonder he’s off his food. He can’t swallow.”

“Aw, man.”

“Any idea how he swallowed a shuttlecock?”

Donovan looked a little sheepish. “Though he’s got a bed of his own, Reggie prefers to sleep in the wife’s sports bag. Not sure why, but the wife reckons it’s because he likes the smell of leather. He’s always playing with her shoes, especially her heels. Oh, and her handbag. Gets wound around the strap like he’s carrying it.”

At the thought of a cross-dressing snake, Rex covered his laugh with a cough.
Ah, it can only happen to a vet.
Donovan following close behind, he took the box through to the quarantine area, where he removed and carefully placed Reggie into a large cage. As he shut the door, he swore he heard a hiss of contentment. Obviously Reggie was pleased to be anywhere but the box.

Turning to Donovan, Rex couldn’t fail to notice the worry etched on the man’s face. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of him. He’ll need an operation. Hopefully, I’ll be able to do it this afternoon, and if all goes well, he should be back at home, with you, sometime Monday. We’ll keep him in over the weekend.”

Donovan blew out a relieved breath, but then his expression turned skeptical. “Will the little lady be helping with the operation?”

“If she’s well enough, yes. As I said before, Mr. Donovan, Dr. Anderson is very professional.” And Rex meant it. With another dozen reassurances that Reggie would be fine, he sent Donovan on his way and then went to find Ramona.

He found her comfortably relaxed on the garden swing seat. Her eyes were closed, but they fluttered open when his shadow fell across her. For some reason, other than the fact she was off-limits and he couldn’t take what he wanted, Rex wondered whether she kissed with open or closed eyes. He knew what he preferred.

I wanna drown in your eyes and never come up for air.
He shoved that thought right out of his mind as she moved aside and he sat beside her. “First snake?” he asked, stretching his legs out and allowing one arm to rest along the back of the seat, his fingers a mere millimeter from what he knew to be buttery-soft skin.

“Yep.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Ramona turned her face to Rex, her expression one of surprise at his admission. “And I don’t think it’ll be my last,” he added, laughing loudly. “Not if Reggie continues with his craving for feathered cocks.”

“Feathered cocks?” she asked, her voice sounding on the shaky side.

“Mr. Donovan’s wife plays badminton. Reggie swallowed one of her shuttlecocks. Not a fan myself. If I was asked to choose a racquet sport, I’d say tennis was the more entertaining. Watching, that is. If I ever played, I know I’d get my ass kicked. I wasn’t very sporty at high school. Preferred the library. You?”

“I enjoy running. I jog the five miles around Silver Creek Lake every morning.”

“Ah, is that where you disappeared to before the practice opened?”

Ramona nodded and gave a sly smile. “Matt, my younger brother, is always looking for an ass to kick on the tennis court, if you’re interested.”

“Is he any good? Tennis, I mean.” Rex could tell Ramona was keen to end their friendly chitchat and get back to the subject of Reggie the snake, but at least she answered his question, though why he wanted to know was lost on him. All he could think about was drowning in her striking green eyes while kissing her luscious mouth.

“Forgive the pun, but he’s an ‘ace.’ I’m sure if he hadn’t become a cop, he would have taken up tennis professionally. And speaking of professional… I want to thank you for earlier. Donovan, um, you could have made out I was useless in front of him, but you didn’t, and I—”

He held up a hand, interrupting her. “Don’t mention it. I meant what I said, Ramona. You’re a professional. And not wanting to handle a snake isn’t going to change my opinion.”

Ramona gave a self-depreciating smile. “Professional? Pathetic more like.”

“Perfect,” Rex amended. Then before he had the chance to register his cock
was
ruling his head, he ran the pad of his thumb over Ramona’s full bottom lip. The breath that feathered across his thumb was warm and slightly shaky. “So perfect.” He looked down at her shirt, particularly the buttons that he’d undone. A few more would not only give him a real eyeful but a handful of her plump breasts. Mmm, he’d never made love on a swing seat before…

“The perfect partner.”

For the second time that morning, Rex experienced a bucket of ice-cold water in his face. What the hell was the matter with him? Keeping his cock separate from his brain should have been easy. He was a grown man of thirty-two, not some randy pubescent teenager. Though what with the number of “stiffs” he’d experienced just that morning alone—four at the last count—he wouldn’t be at all surprised if he had slipped back to the time of spots, facial fuzz, squeaky voices and wet dreams.

With a muttered curse, Rex abruptly stood, an action that unfortunately rocked the seat so much Ramona landed at his feet with a startled gasp. He helped her up. Big mistake. Looking down upon her, not only did he have that eyeful, but the satin bra—in racy red, for fuck’s sake!—her plump breasts were cupped in. He’d rather
his
hands were doing the cupping.

The right hand strap slipped down. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care. The temptation to right it was strong. Rex balled his fists and stepped away for his own sanity as much as anything else. “Sorry. Er, about Reggie. He needs an operation. I can do it, but I need to do some research and phone a couple of my former colleagues to ask for their advice. The practice I worked at in Miami had a reptile center.”

“Anything I can do to help?” She moistened her lips with a quick flick of her tongue. “Like with the op?”

“No, it’s okay. It’ll be more of a help if you take my patients for this afternoon.”

She again licked her lips. “Sure, Rex, I can do that.”

And I’d like to do you. Right here. Right now.
And if Ramona licked her lips one more time, Rex realized that thought would be put into action quicker than he could get a stiff. And since he was already halfway there—again!—that time would be now. Not trusting himself to speak, anything was liable to come out of his mouth—his tongue included—he nodded his thanks and returned inside.

He had to concentrate. He had an operation to perform. And Rex was sure nothing would be more effective at separating his brain from his cock than the slip of a scalpel and the subsequent apology to Mr. Donovan for sending his pet to the great snake pit in the sky.

At half past six, and with a forced cheery smile, Ramona waved off the last patient of the day. It was only after she’d locked and dead-bolted the door that she let rip with a loud curse of relief. Cecilia the Siamese cat was such a bitch, all claws and spit. No wonder her owner always brought her to the surgery for her quarterly worming tablets. She had suggested crushing the tablets and adding it to Cecilia’s food, but the cat was smart. Cecilia was sick, too, because she was known to pee in her food if served with something she didn’t like.

“Bitch,” Ramona again cursed and rubbed a tender hand over the scratches on her right forearm. Not surprisingly, on more than one occasion, she’d thought about introducing Cecilia to Reggie.

Hmm, Reggie. Mmm, Rex…
Apart from when he
’
d been using the laptop in the office, searching the Internet, and making a few phone calls, she hadn
’
t seen Rex as he
’
d been holed up in the operating theatre all afternoon.

And she had to confess, she
’
d missed him, or rather, missed that smug smile. It would have come in real useful for Bud Watson when he
’
d popped in earlier for another round of “I
’
m-no-vet-but-I-know-more-than-you-do-about-treating-horses.”

Ramona wandered through to the quarantine area. In his cage, still under the effects of anesthetic, Reggie had a sterile dressing wrapped around his body, covering the area where Rex had operated. Hesitantly, she opened the door and reached out to touch him, when a voice behind her drawled, “Go on, be brave. He won’t bite.”

Snapping the door shut and hand held over her racing heart, she twirled around to face Rex. A stethoscope around his neck, he held a clipboard in one hand and a shuttlecock in the other. “You nearly gave me a coronary!” she accused. The hitching of Rex’s mouth into that familiar smug smile effectively curbed the temptation for mouth-to-mouth first aid. She gestured to the shuttlecock. “Operation a success?”

“Of course.”

“Smug, Rex, real smug.”

“No, just honest.” Rex laid the clipboard and the shuttlecock on top of the cage. “The real test will be when he wants to feed. I’ve looked for snake food, but not surprisingly we don’t have any in stock. I’ve phoned Mr. Donovan, and he’s going to bring some in first thing tomorrow morning. I think he said a couple of rodents… Hey, what happened?” he asked, pointing to then capturing her right hand.

“Oh, my last patient didn’t take too kindly to me shoving tablets down her throat.” His fingers trailed over her scratched skin, sending tingles of pleasure zipping to every nerve ending in her body, from her scalp to her toes. “It looks worse than it is. It’s nothing a little antiseptic cream won’t heal. Really,” she added at his doubtful expression.

“Well, if you say so.” He dropped her hand. “I’ll just grab a shower, and then I’ll cook dinner. Return the compliment.”

It wasn’t until after Rex had gone that Ramona realized she’d been holding her breath. She slowly let it out. Jumping a partner’s bones had never been so tempting. But not smart, she reminded herself as she went through to the office and powered the laptop into life.

She had just finishing typing an e-mail to Stephens—well, why not, fair’s fair—detailing her approval and reasons why he should sell his share of the practice to Rex, when she sensed somebody watching her. The spicy scent she inhaled evoked a graphic image of Rex naked in the shower, warm water sluicing every virile inch of his powerful body. She shoved it aside and waited for that drawling Southern accent of his to fill her ears.

“What are you doing?”

Ramona swiveled around in her seat. Her “screw up in the bedroom department and the business side is bound to follow” philosophy took an instant nosedive. With damp hair and wearing snug-fitting faded jeans and a white T-shirt that accentuated the solid wall of his chest and bulging biceps, Rex
was
mighty tempting. Thankfully, so was the bottle of white wine and the two glasses he held. “Come and see for yourself.”

He ambled over, poured her a glass, and read the screen over her shoulder. “What’s the catch?” he asked, meeting her eyes when he’d finished reading. His eyes flicked back to the screen. “Ah, you haven’t sent it.”

She immediately swiveled around and clicked the “send” button. When she faced him again, her philosophy soared to its usual lofty altitude as his sensual mouth had hitched into the familiar smug smile. She sipped on her wine, watching him over the rim as he filled his own glass. “You know,” she said after a minute’s silence, “you never did tell me how Greg hired you.”

Rex placed the bottle on the desk and perched on the corner, crossing his feet at the ankles. Again, as he’d been earlier that morning, he was barefoot. He appeared relaxed, but the tightening of his fingers around the stem of the glass as he downed half of its contents in one swallow said different. Pained shadows also lurked within his eyes. It was another minute before he spoke, giving Ramona the impression he was deliberating about exactly what he should and shouldn’t tell her.