Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
“You have her eyes.”
She reached up and closed the locket, sliding it around to the back of her neck where it would stay safely out of his reach.
He smiled at the protective motion and hummed with amusement. “You’ll need that instinct tomorrow. If I were you, I’d put that locket in a safe place—if it’s important to you.”
He moved back to the foot of the table, but held eye contact as his finger pressed down into the base of her opening. “How does that feel? Any pain?”
“No,” she said tightly.
“And this?” He traced the opening of her sex in a way that made her body clench. “Any pain or discomfort?”
“No. No pain.”
“How about this?” His thumb dragged higher, and her breath hitched. “A little sensitive?”
Her brow knit as she gave a tight nod.
“That’s good. That’s exactly how your body should respond.” He withdrew his fingers and lowered to the stool. Her knees knocked together only to have him press them apart. “Not yet. I need to take a deeper look inside.”
He adjusted the lamp and reached for an instrument on the tray. Metal clinked, and his fingers breached her again.
“A little pressure.”
She gasped as he inserted the metal device and opened it.
“Beautiful. No hymenal lacerations. Everything looks…healthy.” He paused for an eternity. “Ripe.”
She stared, unblinking, at the ceiling.
Her jagged breath disrupted the silence.
He breathed in—slow and deliberate—as if smelling her.
Her eyes widened.
“Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
When his breath ghosted against her most intimate flesh, she knew something was wrong. Doctors weren’t supposed to touch women like this.
Her mouth wobbled around soundless words.
“You don’t say much, do you?” He adjusted the speculum and withdrew the metal device, only to cover her sex with the palm of his hand. “Sometimes, that’s a good thing.”
He stripped off his glove, but not before touching her one last time. Then he moved to the bin and tossed the latex away.
“You did great, Daisy. Before we do the contraceptive injection, I’ll need a quick urine sample. Bathroom’s through that door. Cups are on the counter. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He gathered the blood samples and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
Daisy sat up so fast she nearly fell off the table. Her hands shook as she shouldered into the gown so forcefully that the paper seams tore. Her body trembled as she stood, the ghost of his touch still lingering between her legs.
Was that normal? How the hell was she going to make it through this weekend if she couldn’t handle a medical exam?
Her gaze darted to the file on the counter marked 1922.
She flipped open the file, scanning quickly over the typed font to the doctor’s scribbled notes.
Aesthetically striking. Startles easily. Obedient. Subtle scarring on left kneecap. Submissive tendencies. Virgin Level II.
* * *
What the hell was a level two virgin?
Knowing she didn’t have much time, she focused on the terms she understood.
* * *
Avoids eye contact. Non-disruptive. Positive response to authority. Mother deceased—resistance trigger. Low risk.
* * *
Her head jerked at the muffled approach of footsteps in the hall. Shutting the file, she snatched the plastic cup off the counter and rushed into the bathroom. Corpse pale under fluorescent lights.
“Get it together,” she ordered her reflection, tucking a strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear, the root damp with sweat.
He was right. She was too thin. Her sharp, gaunt cheekbones stood out prominently beneath her haunted stare. Her freckles showed like rust spots on her ivory skin.
Her gaze turned away, dropping to the floor. She wasn’t used to being seen this way—by men. She didn’t like…the inescapable awareness it bred as she became self-conscious of every flaw.
Moving to the toilet, she uncapped the sample cup, but when she tried to pee, her body wouldn’t cooperate, too tense to perform even a basic function.
“Come on…” She took a few slow, deep breaths.
Eventually, through sheer force of will, she managed a small trickle. Enough to fill the bottom of the cup. She capped the warm sample and washed her hands.
When she emerged, Dr. Tannhäuser was waiting.
“Excellent.” He took the sample and set it aside. “Just a few more things and then you can go.” When he waved her back to the table, she hesitated.
“We’re not done?”
“Not yet.” His voice was soft, almost tender. “I need to examine your abdomen.” He patted the table as if calling a dog. “Up you go.”
She reluctantly climbed up and sat on the edge. Clutching her wrist and holding her back for support, he eased her back.
“Just relax.”
She was really getting tired of being told to relax.
He set her arms at her side and opened her gown, smoothing out the paper to fully expose her. His hands, once again covered in gloves, moved over her front. Fingers pressed into her stomach, prodding and poking, but not causing any pain.