Zanaikeyros - Son of Dragons (Pantheon of Dragons #1)(48)
What in the world was going on?
Not only had Jordan failed to call her that morning, but she hadn’t responded to any of Macy’s texts over the past twenty-four hours, and Macy was beginning to worry: It just wasn’t like Jordan to blow someone off—let alone, her BFF—and especially not at a time like this.
Switching her attention to the large plastic bag that contained her cell phone, her purse, and her clothes, Macy thought about her mom: Luckily, Karen Wilson had driven Macy to the hospital, and she was going to stick around all day—she would be able to keep an eye on Macy’s stuff.
Well, as soon as she got back from the cafeteria.
After watching her mom fidget with just about everything in the room, pace back and forth across the small, sterile cubicle a half-dozen times, Macy had finally convinced Nervous-Nelly to go take a walk…get a cup of tea at the hospital diner. To put it bluntly, Karen had been driving Macy crazy. She needed a much more calming influence at a time like this—say, someone just like Jordan.
A cheeky, conspiratorial smile edged along the curves of her mouth, and her stomach did a nervous little flip as she switched her attention, yet again, to her handsome surgeon, Dr. Kyle Parker.
Talk about a calming influence!
Talk about a gorgeous, blue-eyed Adonis, with a headful of silky black hair, who had stared at her just a little too long, touched her just a little too gently, and pitched his voice just a little too intimately…for coincidence.
Talk about bedside manner…
There was no getting around it—Dr. Kyle Parker was interested.
In Macy!
She shivered beneath the otherwise warm blanket and chuckled beneath her breath.
How had that happened?
When had that happened?
Her excitement was almost too great to contain.
And then she glanced downward and cringed. The hospital gown she was wearing was thin, green, and ugly: not to mention, she had a plastic bag on her head; she had forgotten to paint her toenails; and her breath was moderately questionable. After all, she hadn’t been allowed to eat or drink anything since seven o’clock the night before, and she might have been too sparing with the toothpaste. Hell, she thought, feeling incredibly self-conscious, she’d be lucky if Dr. Parker still looked her way by the time this surgery was over—by the time he had seen pretty much all of what she had to offer. Ugh. Ugh. And ugh.
Still, she reasoned, preferring to be more positive, there had been something hard to name in his voice—a smooth, masculine drawl, something sensual, something implicit—as he’d cleared his throat and whispered, “If you need anything, Macy—anything at all—you just let me know, okay?”
She bit down on her bottom lip.
For whatever reason, Dr. Parker didn’t seem to care about her toenails or the baggie on her head…
For whatever reason, the man was attracted to Macy!
She took a deep breath and glanced at the clock, a second time. She couldn’t wait to tell Jordan about this recent twist of fate, but where the hell was she? No sooner had she conjured the thought than she heard a familiar voice outside the thick blue-and-white curtain: “Knock-knock. Can I come in?”
Jordan!
“Yes,” Macy called, glancing toward the flimsy partition with excitement. “Come in.” She practically wriggled like a child with a newfound toy, sitting straighter in the mechanical bed.
Jordan’s elegant hand pulled back the curtains, and she sauntered in with a smile.
“Where have you been!” Macy demanded, and then her mouth dropped open and her eyes bulged out of her head.
Hell, she may have actually drooled…
Two positively breathtaking men—with ungodly perfect bodies, chiseled features, like Roman gods, and the swagger of Navy SEALs—followed Jordan into the cubicle. They were both wearing sunglasses—which was curious, since they were also indoors—and the heat and power that radiated around them almost made Macy leap from her bed (IV pole, be damned) and duck under the nearest partition.
“What the hell?” She spoke the thought aloud.
Jordan took a deep breath and smiled. “Sorry I’m late, Mace; and sorry I’ve been MIA.” She glanced over her shoulder to regard the tallest of the two, the one with gorgeous dark-brown hair; broad, powerful shoulders; and thighs that looked like he could do squats while lifting an entire weight-bench. “This is Zane Saphyrius.” She turned her attention to a divine masculine specimen with gorgeous dirty-blond locks. “And this is his partner, Axe.” She swallowed nervously, and Macy knew right away that there was something serious going on, in spite of Jordan’s valiant attempt at casualness. “Remember the other day when I mentioned that there was something happening at work—something creepy that came up that I had to take care of?”
“Yeah,” Macy said, her voice registering her hesitation.
“Well,” Jordan explained, “turns out that thing had a slight element of danger attached to it, so I now have a couple of bodyguards.” She quickly held up her hand to dispel any fears. “But don’t worry. I’m fine. Truly, I am. I’m just going to be hanging out with Mutt and Jeff for a while.” She crooked her thumb at the Navy SEALs, and the dark-haired man’s savagely beautiful mouth turned down into a frown.
Whoa, Macy thought, getting the distinct impression that he didn’t find Jordan’s comment funny—in the least. And as for the dirty blond? He looked like he could stop an oncoming truck with the palm of his hand, wrench the bolts out of the tires while he whistled, and then chew on them for distraction, without breaking a tooth.