Her Dominant Doctor

Her Dominant Doctor

By

Bella Jackson

Copyright © 2014 by Stormy Night Publications and Bella Jackson

Copyright © 2014 by Stormy Night Publications and Bella Jackson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

www.StormyNightPublications.com

Jackson, Bella

Her Dominant Doctor

Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

Images by Jimmy Thomas at RomanceNovelCovers.com and Bigstock/Backyard Productions

This book is intended for
adults only
. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

Dedication

To my husband… my best friend… my soul mate… my life.

Chapter One

Annie O’Reilly slowly became aware of her surroundings as she woke in the recovery room, still a bit disoriented, which was a typical after-effect of the anesthesia as it wore off. Annie gazed around the immediate area. It was familiar, but not familiar. White, sterile walls. Distinct smell of rubbing alcohol.
That’s right, hospital
. As her level of consciousness rose through the pea-soup thick fog, Annie realized she was still alive. It was with pure happiness and profound relief that she took a silent inventory of herself and her surroundings. The sticky tape on the back of her hand secured an intravenous line. It pulled on the delicate skin, not painfully, but enough to cause her to be constantly aware of its presence. She could hear the
beep beep
sound of her monitored heartbeat fill the room and the annoying itch under her nose was, no doubt, from the nasal cannula providing a continuous flow of oxygen. Her mouth was bone dry and lips were rough and chapped. The last couple of days came back to her in a wave of overwhelming memories and shattered dreams. Despite all of that, she was simply grateful to be alive.

Catching from her peripheral vision a silhouette sitting beside her, she turned, heavy-headed, to the right, fully expecting to see a nurse. Annie was pleasantly surprised, however, to find the strong profile of her very handsome surgeon, who she had only met just prior to the operation. Dr. Thomas Callahan cradled a thick blue binder in his left hand and with his right, wrote with a silver, expensive-looking Mont Blanc pen. He sat slightly hunched over, his expression in deep thought. Annie noticed the stubble of a five o’clock shadow on his prominent jaw. Soft brown curls streaked with silver poked out from under the blue surgeon’s cap at his nape. He was incredibly good-looking.

When he turned, she sharply inhaled, stunned by the unusual shade of blue in his sparkling eyes. They were almost turquoise but with a hint of jade green. They were the most beautiful windows to the soul she had ever seen. He held his head high, proud and confident on broad shoulders that could carry the weight of the world with ease, she imagined.

Annie was acutely and increasingly aware that the man’s presence caused an inappropriate stirring deep in her belly. When she met his gaze, she was presented with a full-on bright and beautiful smile. She slowly exhaled the deep breath she was holding, then mirrored his smile in return.

“I must have died and gone to heaven. Only an angel could look as good as you do.” His deep rich baritone laugh brought about the realization that her unfiltered thoughts were spoken aloud. Blood pounded in her temples as she felt heat color her face. Humiliated, Annie’s tear-filled eyes looked away. Trying to compose herself, she cleared her throat and asked, “Is it really over?” Her voice was raspy and uneven.

Annie turned her head back to face him, meeting his gaze. Dr. Callahan was chuckling, but then his smile quickly turned into a frown. “It’s alright, Ms. O’Reilly. There is no need for tears. You are fine and, yes, it is really over.” He nodded his head reassuringly. “You are in the post-op recovery room. The surgery went perfectly and you are now on the road to restored health. All you need to do for the next few days is rest and recuperate.”

Annie felt the tenderness and affection radiate off of the doctor. His steady gaze held her own as she struggled with the lingering effects of the anesthesia. It took several moments before Annie’s eyes closed, relief and contentment washing over as she recognized his welcome words.

Looking back at him, Annie spoke, her voice genuine. “Thank you so much, Doctor, for seeing me through this.” She sheepishly added, “Um, sorry for the angel comment. My brain is not firing on all cylinders just yet. Between the drugs and the jet lag, I can’t be held responsible for the stupid things I say.”

He smiled, showing her those pearly whites again. “No worries, Ms. O’Reilly. I’ve been called many things in my career. Being called an angel is actually a nice change of pace for once,” he quipped. His amused expression morphed to one of inquiry. “Please tell me, how are you feeling? Are you experiencing any pain or discomfort?” The kind concern in his voice warmed her. She caught a whiff of his masculine scent, earthy like fresh herbs and peppermint. It was pleasant and subtle, much like the man himself.

“I’m not in pain, Doctor, not right now. Actually, it feels nice to be pain-free. It’s been too long since I felt… normal.”

Thomas pursed his lips in agreement. “Yes, I would imagine that to be true, given your ordeal over the past several days.” His vivid blue eyes were full of compassion. It took Annie’s breath away.

Her ordeal. That was the understatement of the century
. Cruising on a transatlantic voyage bound for several European ports, she survived what most would consider the worst-case scenario vacation nightmare. In a foreign country, with an unknown illness, and completely alone.

Ten days into the cruise, Annie experienced the most horrific and unrelenting pain in her upper stomach. The ship’s doctor, unable to diagnose her given the limited equipment on board, told her to disembark in Barcelona, the next scheduled port. Annie boarded a flight home to Boston, landing at Logan International Airport eight hours later. Perspiration broke out on her upper lip as she painstakingly hailed a taxi, luggage in hand, requesting to be taken to the closest hospital.

When this all transpired, Annie could never have imagined she would end up with the most gorgeous, sexy-as-fuck doctor in all of Boston. Glancing over at him, all Annie could think was that he was so good-looking and must be a master in the bedroom. The phrase ‘sex on legs’ kept playing in her mind. She pinned his age as close to hers, in his early forties. From what little she had seen thus far, he was well over six feet tall with a nice physique and an award-winning smile. She was positive he had excellent dental care as a kid with teeth so straight and white. He had a distinguished masculine appeal that made her toes curl. Dr. Callahan was the epitome of a woman’s dream man. He certainly looked like the embodiment of Annie’s dream man. Strong and confident. Tall with muscular arms that would hold her in a tight grip, embracing her in security.

Aware of the desert in her mouth, she asked, “May I have some water, please? My mouth is so dry. I have a sore throat too.”

The doctor winced in sympathy, patting her hand. “That is probably from the tube the anesthesiologist placed down your throat to help you breathe during the operation.”

“Oh,” she blandly replied. Annie fully expected the doctor to summon one of the nurses to assist her and was surprised to see Dr. Callahan put the chart and pen down on the bedside table and reach over. Holding something in front of her, Annie saw it was a white plastic spoon.

“Here you are. You can start with a few ice chips for now. They will help with the sore throat. We need to reintroduce fluids and food slowly and carefully as your system starts to wake up and recover from the trauma of surgery.”

Opening her mouth, Annie moaned in pleasure as the cold ice chips coated her parched mouth and scratchy throat with moisture. Chewing the small shard so it melted quickly, she opened her mouth to indicate the desire for more. Dr. Callahan complied with the silent request, bringing the spoon to her lips again with more ice. The simple act of kindness was both sensuous and tender, and his patience shocked Annie, although she was profoundly grateful for it.

As she looked up to his kind face, Annie was perplexed. She would never expect a doctor, a skilled surgeon, to feed her ice chips. Still, it was a great treat to be taken care of by someone. Anyone. Especially one as good-looking.

Always independent, Annie never asked for help from others. In her current predicament, however, she understood the need to be gracious and accept assistance. She found it odd that Dr. Callahan would assist with such a menial task, especially when there were many nurses flittering around the room, although she was unsure what they were doing. Annie was the only person in lying on a gurney, and the remaining four beds were empty. That made Dr. Callahan’s actions even stranger, but it was also very welcome. Annie was mesmerized by his humanity and his presence provided her with a sense of protection. His tender ministration warmed her and provided her with security. She felt butterflies in her stomach and knew it was not post-anesthetic nausea. No, it was desire, something she had not felt for a long time.

“Is that better, Ms. O’Reilly?” he asked in a voice laced with concern.

She nodded her head. “Yes. Thank you, Doctor. My throat feels much better now.”

“Good. Now let’s take care of those chapped lips,” he said, holding up a red tube of cherry Chapstick. It was exactly the same kind she used. Annie found that curious but did not have time to think about it further because she felt the wax being gently rubbed on her lips. She was shocked at the intimacy in the action and could not stop staring at him with wonder. She was entranced at the synergy created by what felt like a loving gesture more so than skilled professionalism.

Fatigue suddenly gripped Annie, firm and unrelenting. The exertion expended from such a simple interaction reminded her of the gravity of her situation. Her eyelids became heavy and her vision distorted as sleep threatened to take her. It was disappointing, given her desire to converse with her mysterious visitor, but she could not string a coherent thought together as the need to sleep gripped her.

Feeling his large, warm hand pat her own, she heard him say, “Just close your eyes and rest now. I will be by to see you when you are settled into your room.” Just on the fringes of slumber, the most she was able to do was slightly nod her head to acknowledge him. She was fairly certain she heard an amused chuckle as the darkness overtook her.

* * *

Thomas quietly laughed as he watched his patient drift off to sleep, feeling a deep sense of contentment. The brief interaction with Annie was pleasant and filled him with satisfaction. Pleased that he could tend to this beautiful woman, he rechecked the monitors, glad to see that her vital signs were all within normal limits for a post-operative patient. While confident that in all likelihood all would go well, Thomas knew enough to never take a simple surgery or recovery for granted. Things could go wrong that were not anticipated. Luckily, Ms. O’Reilly was a textbook case.

While not unusual for a surgeon to visit a patient in the recovery room, it was uncharacteristic to spend considerable time with one single patient, especially one that was stable. Normally, the nurses were responsible for this; however, he felt compelled to see his patient through post-op care. Thomas found Ms. O’Reilly’s story interesting. Aside from his keen desire to interact with her, taking this time gave him an opportunity to really look at her uninhibited and appreciate her attractiveness. His pale patient looked helpless and alone lying attached to the numerous wires that monitored her vital signs.

Her facial features were well-proportioned, with a cute button nose and pink cheeks coloring her ivory skin. He found the Marilyn Monroe-esque beauty mark on the right side of her face enchanting. In the relaxed state of slumber, she looked innocent and ethereal, angelic. He was surprised at the pleasure he felt by simply watching her sleep.

He believed she was the type of person one could trust. He had no basis for that assessment, but somehow felt it to be true. She had a depth of character and reminded him of an old soul. Genuine. He was really attracted to her. She brought his alpha male protective instincts out to the surface, probably because she appeared so weak and defenseless. No woman ever had such an effect on him so quickly, let alone a woman who was under his medical care. Usually he did not have to work hard at maintaining his professional persona but, with Ms. O’Reilly, that seemed to go right out the window.