Anna sighed, wishing she had kept her mouth shut when she saw the look of worry and regret on his face. It was obvious this man cared deeply for this horse. “Relax,” she murmured, “that wouldn’t have anything to do with what’s going on. I just don’t approve of messing with Mother Nature.”
“Normally, I don’t either. What’s wrong with her?”
“I’ll examine her to make sure, but I think she’s breech, which means it’s going to be a long night.” Opening her bag, Anna pulled out elbow length latex gloves.
Worry made Donovan ask sharply, “Do you have the experience to handle a breech birth, because if not, I need to get someone else here now.”
Anna straightened slowly and looked him squarely in the eye for the first time. “I specialized in equine care in veterinary school and have been practicing in Lexington for three years, Mr. McGilley. Whether you feel I’m qualified or not, I’m all you’ve got because she’s not going to wait for you to find someone else, even if you could at this hour.”
Her eyes were the color of pewter, stormy grey and once again looked at him as if she didn’t actually see him. Her voice was soft, but she spoke with a steely edge, and he found his cock stirring at the challenge her attitude presented. Donovan watched her clip her chin length dark red hair back at the sides before pushing the sleeves up on her sweatshirt, trying to ignore his misplaced lust and concentrate on the matter at hand.
“I’m worried about her. She means a lot to me,” he said by way of an apology.
Pulling the gloves on, she said, “I’m going to need your help, so roll up your sleeves and prepare to get messy.”
Birthing was messy and nothing he wasn’t used to even though this would be his first breech. But it wasn’t worry over that prospect that had him clenching his jaw and setting aside lust for anger. As she slowly pulled on her gloves in preparation for an internal exam, he noticed the odd angle of her ulna in her right forearm, a sign of a serious break that wasn’t set properly. And the only kind of break that would cause such an odd alignment was a spiral fracture, generally caused by someone twisting an arm until it snapped. Rage infused him, the intensity of which he hadn’t experienced since those early days after his rescue from being held as an Iraqi prisoner.
“I could use a little help here.”
Anna’s cool rebuke accompanied by Belle’s distressed neigh worked to temper his rage and he moved to Belle’s head, gripped her bridle and crooned softly to the agitated mare as she suffered the pain and indignity of Anna’s exam. Dressed in baggy, faded jeans and a sweatshirt, Donovan was unable to detect any other signs of abuse. She had an attractive face, pale as most redheads were with a small smattering of freckles around her nose and a wide mouth that was made for kissing or sucking cock. There were no signs of abuse on her creamy skin, no visible scars or lingering bruises, but, most often, abusers shied away from leaving any telltale signs of their actions where anyone could see them. His unobserved physical exam of her did note the shape of full breasts and rounded buttocks even though the clothes she wore were loose. The stirring of his cock returned and was not only surprising but unwelcome at this moment. Donovan wasn’t a man to be attracted easily or led on by his cock.
As they labored through the night right along with Belle to safely deliver her foal, Donovan’s anger on her behalf was replaced by admiration for her skill. Three hours later, both of them sweaty and bloody along with Belle, a gorgeous colt was safely delivered onto the fresh, clean hay.
“He’s perfect,” Anna beamed after checking over the gangly baby and the tired momma. “And Belle should recover with rest and care.”
Damn if he didn’t want to hug Anna for helping both him and Belle through this ordeal, but he quickly suppressed that surprising reaction, choosing to return her smile instead. “Thanks to you. I owe you an apology; you definitely knew what you were doing.”
Anna sensed apologizing didn’t come easy to this man, and, pleased with the outcome of the last grueling hours, she found it easy to forgive him for his surly attitude earlier. “This little guy makes my third successful breech delivery. Unfortunately, I had one that ended in a stillbirth.”
“Those are always hard to take. I hope that wasn’t a favorite shirt.” The plain pale blue sweatshirt was splattered with evidence of the birth and was definitely slated for the trash.
Looking down, Anna pulled the shirt away from her body and said ruefully, “No, it’s an old one I saved for just such an occasion. I have a spare in my truck. If you have someplace I can change real quick, I’ll write out some instructions and leave some antibiotics before I leave.”
“You can use my office. I’ll wash up while you get your shirt.”
Donovan spread some fresh hay around Belle and her foal while Anna changed, happy to see the little guy suckling greedily at her teat. He had been afraid Belle wouldn’t be able to produce milk after her ordeal, especially since the delivery was so early, but so far, for tonight at least, it looked like she was going to be able to provide for her baby. He was just turning from closing the stall gate when he saw Ethan open the door to his office. It was too late to call out to him that the office was occupied and the sight that greeted both Ethan and Donovan was enough to shock both of them momentarily.
Anna, her bare back to the door, turned her head at the sound of it opening. Remaining calm, she clutched her clean shirt to her chest as she said with a calm collectiveness she was far from feeling, “Do you mind? I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Sorry,” Ethan mumbled red faced before turning guilt stricken eyes to Donovan.
It definitely wasn’t the enticing side view of one very full breast that caused the rage Donovan had suppressed and almost forgotten about to come roaring back with a vengeance, but the three long wide scars running from Anna’s shoulders down her back to disappear in the waistband of her jeans. He knew from experience those scars were made by a leather strap, knew from experience the pain she endured in getting those scars and knew from experience the rage consuming him over the abuse she had suffered was possibly lethal.
But, possibly more than the sight of her marred soft skin, the calm, cool indifference in her grey eyes as she looked at them had him seeing red and clenching his hands into fists. Without a word, he turned and made his way to the tack room, breathing a sigh of relief when he heard his office door close again.
Chapter Twenty
Anna slipped her arms into the clean, button up shirt, her hands trembling as the bile lodged in her throat threatened to come up. For over two years she had managed to keep the physical proof of her husband’s abuse hidden from everyone except her doctor. In the space of less than thirty seconds, her mortifying secret had witnesses and her guilt and shame over the reasons for Todd’s rampage against her came rushing to the surface. Calling on the strength that had gotten her through those days of constant pain and terror at her husband’s hands and the determination to put it behind her after she was free of him, she shored up her defenses and left the office.
Neither Donovan nor the young man who had unsuspectingly exposed her were anywhere to be seen so Anna gathered her bag and her courage and followed some sounds coming from the last room down a narrow corridor. The tack room door was open and her eyes were immediately drawn to the corner where Donovan had his back to her and was pounding the hell out of a hanging punching bag bare handed. It wasn’t his angry, flushed profile that had her shocked into stillness or the violence with which he was attacking the leather bag that had her rooted to the spot. It was the instant arousal she was feeling at the sight of those thickly muscled arms bunching with each swing, the pussy tightening response she experienced as she instantly pictured him shirtless, wished she could see his bare back and watch those strong shoulder and back muscles glistening with sweat as they tightened with each exertive swing of his arms.
Anna’s concern over the laboring Belle had kept her from paying much attention to Donovan other than to make note of his good looks, large size and surly attitude, all of which she had easily set aside to give her full attention to saving Belle and her foal. Over the past few hours she had grudgingly found herself admiring and respecting him as he labored tirelessly alongside her in delivering the foal, his love and concern for the mare obvious in both his soothing patient demeanor and turbulent, emotion filled green eyes. His relief at the successful birth was palpable and before she could question the unexpected jolt his smile gave her, she had quickly retreated.
But seeing him now while still reeling from having been exposed and wondering what he was thinking about what he saw, her stiff nipples and damp pussy evidence of the reawakening of her dormant libido, threw her off her game and she remained mute while she struggled inwardly to get herself under control.
“You don’t want to be in here, Dr. Kingston,” Donovan cautioned, his breath as labored as his roiling emotions. “You need to go.”
Yes, she did
, Anna thought, but not before she finished her job. “I have some instructions for you, things to watch for the next few days. She’s not out of the woods yet.”
Donovan heaved a deep breath, dropped his raw knuckled hands and reluctantly turned to face her. Those grey eyes so devoid of emotion didn’t shy away from him, her pale face not showing even a hint of mortification at her exposure, and that just made him even angrier on her behalf because he knew what it took to keep yourself so tightly in check.
“Who hurt you?” he demanded roughly, surprising both of them with his question.
Shaking inside, Anna cursed his intrusiveness and her unaccustomed weakness where he was seemingly concerned. “I’ll set them on your desk. Don’t hesitate to call the answering service if there’s a problem, otherwise I’ll come out and check her in a few days,” she said stiffly before turning quickly and leaving, barely noticing the beautiful sunrise as she pulled away from the McGilley stables and a man who’s simple question and concern threatened her hard earned peace of mind.
For almost three years Anna had studiously avoided any situations that might put her in contact with any of the McGilley’s. She cursed fate that had put her on call tonight and sent her out to their farm, but was able to breathe a sigh of relief that it was Donovan McGilley she encountered and not his brother, Colin. As she tiredly drove home, Anna remembered the night a week before her wedding that she had allowed her friend and fellow veterinary student, Diane, talk her into going clubbing, something she, as the daughter of a preacher, had never done. Wanting to have at least one unconventional experience before duty and guilt forced her to tie herself to a man she didn’t love, she threw caution to the wind and followed her more experienced friend blindly that night.
It was Mexican night at Casey’s and after two margarita’s, she was just tipsy enough to agree to let Diane try to wheedle an invite to the private second floor club, a club that rumors ran rampant about, rumors that had her curious enough to want to see for herself. At twenty-six, she wasn’t a virgin, but the two guys she had slept with, also fellow veterinary students, hadn’t given her near the pleasure her secret stash of erotic romances had indicated could be had. She had begun to think that all the hype surrounding sex and orgasms was just that, something found only in fiction, until she had witnessed it firsthand that night.
Diane, who had refrained from drinking, had cajoled Colin McGilley into letting them spend thirty minutes just watching the activities upstairs. It hadn’t been easy, but when she saw she was hitting a brick wall, Diane had told him how Anna was getting married in a week, and due to her strict, religious parents, this was as close as she was going to get to a bachelorette party. To both of their surprise, Colin had agreed, but they were only allowed thirty minutes, in the main room to watch and he would be there making sure that’s all they did. Anna could have told him she wouldn’t even have the nerve to do that without the slight buzz in her head giving her courage, but she had kept quiet during the whole encounter and on the ride up in the elevator, her nerves and excitement strung tautly.
Anna didn’t know if Colin McGilley would remember the two naïve girls he had babysat for thirty minutes that night, his slight grin when they gaped at the goings on indulgent as he kept a close eye on them, but she would never forget the things she saw people doing, and the pleasure they derived from them. That night had been an eye opener in more ways than one, and the reason her dissatisfaction with her sex life after she married had led her into a hell she couldn’t have foreseen.
Pulling into her designated parking spot at her apartment complex, Anna shut off her truck and made her way upstairs, extremely glad that she wasn’t on call today. Tired beyond belief, both from the physical and emotional toll of the last few hours, she locked her apartment door behind her and stripped as she padded into her bathroom for a long, hot shower. Turning on the water, she allowed it to heat up the small room as she viewed herself critically in the mirror.
For two years, ever since she had escaped the brutal clutches of her husband and her six month marriage, she had barely taken note of her body other than to wash. She threw all her energy into becoming a successful veterinarian, preferring the company of animals, especially horses, to people, especially men. Now, looking at her nakedness, she saw she had gained weight, not a lot, about ten pounds, but enough that, when you were barely five four, it would show. Her breasts had always been on the large size, but now there was just enough extra in her waist and thighs to give her that ‘pleasantly plump’ look. Unwillingly, her thoughts strayed to Donovan McGilley, his six foot, muscled body and she found herself wondering what he would think of her body. Would he be turned on or off by her soft roundness?
Just the thought of him seeing her, touching her, had her nipples peaking and her pussy creaming, reactions that had been dormant these past two years. Swearing, she stepped into the shower and under the hot spray and tried to wipe her mind of the tender way he had cared for Belle followed by the way he had looked when he was pounding on his punching bag, his anger seemingly on behalf of the abuse she had suffered. His sandy hair had darkened with sweat, his face had glistened with it and those green eyes, when he had finally turned them on her, were glowing with rage and surprise. She suspected the surprise was because she wasn’t cringing in fear of him, but she could have told him she didn’t see evil when she saw his anger, so there was no reason to feel fear. She knew what evil looked like, she had lived with evil and the look he gave her was not one of malicious intent, but rather anger portrayed to hide inner torment, a survival mechanism she was very familiar with.