Parallel Seduction Read Free

muttered, his eyes sliding shut. The sound of the bedside chair scraping the floor surprised him, and he glanced up to find his nurse plopping right into the thing. He hadn't seen her on shift before; maybe she was just new enough not to realize what a badass he could be. She laughed and it was warm, light. "I take it you're talking about someone other than me?"
    "Hope Harper." He grunted. "The human … she came to visit me a few days ago."
    "So she's the one denying you pain meds?" The nurse stared down at his chart, barely masking a smile as she noted something on the pages.
    "What's your name, medic?" he demanded gruffly, scowling as he sized her up from top to bottom. She wore her uniform with a bit of attitude, not pressed and starched like it should be.
    "Shelby Tyler, sir."
    "Nurse Tyler, you do know who I am, right? Nobody erased your memory as to my role within this military?"
    Again the blonde-haired woman laughed, shaking her head. "I know exactly who you are, Lieutenant. You're not only His Highness's top military adviser, but a hero to us all." She glanced pointedly at his legs and her voice grew much softer, somber. "Now more than ever, sir. You seemed like you could use a laugh about now. No disrespect intended."
    He growled, but said nothing more, and Shelby leaned forward conspiratorially. "Listen, sir, I know you're in a lot of pain," she said. "And I know that human has you in a fit. So why don't you just talk about it? I'm good at listening."
    "Good at listening." He cut his eyes sideways at her. "You a psychologist, too?"
    She glanced away and didn't answer at first. "No, but I've been in love a few times myself."
    Bolting upright in bed, he grimaced with pain. "I am not in love with Hope Harper! I barely know her—"
    "Uh-huh." She tapped his chart with a pen, sounding wholly unconvinced.
    "I only met her a week ago. Besides, she's a … a human." He spat the last with as much revulsion as he could muster, lest the savvy little medic suspect how delicious even the name of Hope's species tasted on his tongue. "That woman is just .…"
    "Beautiful?" Shelby prompted brightly, sitting up straight as a rail. "Smart as a whip, brave .…"
    "A stranger to me!" Scott bellowed with a harsh glare. "We now have a professional association, if you want to even call it that," he said. "Nothing more or less."
    "Of course, Lieutenant Dillon." Shelby made another note on his chart. What in All's name did this conversation have to do with his medical report? "But then tell me one thing. What do you think all those dreams of yours mean?" she remarked in a perfect tone of innocence.
    He twisted the bed sheet in his hands. "You don't know crap about what I'm dreaming. So stop trying to get inside here"—he tapped his forehead—"and analyze me to death. Don't need it; don't want it. In fact, only thing I want from you is my next dose of pain medication. We'll call it even with that."
    She leaned forward, meeting his gaze seriously. "I've been your night nurse since they brought you in here, sir, and I know you've been having some serious—perhaps amazing—dreams about 'that woman.' So why don't you stop denying it and talk to me a little? That's what you need, not to get even more stoned out of that thick gourd of yours."
    Well, damn it all to hell. Had he been mumbling in his sleep? Apparently. With a face flushed hot from shame and lust, he decided on evasive maneuvering. "You have a Southern accent. What on earth is a Refarian medic doing with an accent like yours?"
    Her smile faded some. "I spent my first five years here in our Texas facility."
    They exchanged a mournful, knowing look. "I see," was all he said. None of them liked to talk about the Texas incident.
    "So, yeah, I guess I picked up a bit of an accent." She forced a smile. "Sure didn't mean to."
    Shelby's bedside manner did distract him from his larger troubles, and her accent was—much as it pained him to admit—almost