But that didn’t mean she could make it go away.
Ezekiel. The Anointed One. Since she’d never even spoken to him, Sophia wondered if she’d be considered out of line if she asked for a face-to-face meeting, just to see if they’d be even remotely compatible. Unfortunately, she already knew the answer to that. Ezekiel got what Ezekiel wanted. Her feelings would have no effect on the outcome.
“Sophia! Ana!” Dr. Drew hurried into the workroom, calling their names as he came. “We have an injured man coming in.”
The two women exchanged a glance. “From where?” Sophia asked, hoping it wasn’t the husband of one of her friends. “Was he hurt farming or in the repair shop?”
“Neither,” the doctor answered. “All I know is that Thomas is bringing this man in himself. Our patient has a head injury and is currently unconscious. Get a bed prepared in the infirmary. I’ll let you know once he arrives.”
Immediately, Sophia hurried off to do as her boss ordered. For once, Ana was right on her heels.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that Thomas himself is bringing him in?” Ana asked, wide-eyed. She had a valid point. After all, Thomas was Ezekiel’s right-hand man and, as such, the second most powerful person in COE. If he himself was delivering the injured patient, the man must be someone very important indeed.
Barely twenty minutes passed before Dr. Drew hurried back, leading the way for two workers carrying a clearly unconscious man on a stretcher. Thomas followed along behind, his expression revealing absolutely nothing. If the patient was someone close to him or Ezekiel, they had no way of knowing.
Dr. Drew began barking out orders. As the more experienced nurse, Sophia fulfilled them, relegating Ana to handing over necessary instruments. Meanwhile, Thomas remained in the corner of the room, watching them all.
A large bloody gash at the back of the patient’s head told them why he was in such condition. While Ana hooked him up to an IV, as well as the blood pressure cuff and the finger heartbeat monitor, Sophia cleaned the wound. “This will need stitches,” she said, getting everything ready.
Dr. Drew took care of the stitching quickly, his movements competent and efficient. Once he’d finished, Sophia dressed and bandaged it. Despite being unconscious, with his dark shaggy hair and rugged features, the patient looked handsome. Sexy even. To her surprise, she felt an immediate visceral tug of attraction. This was so incredibly rare, she nearly gasped out loud. Wrong place, wrong time and definitely the wrong person. She wondered what was wrong with her. It had to be shock due to her impending wedding.
“His vitals are good,” she announced.
Dr. Drew nodded. “He’s taken a nasty blow on the head. We’ll keep him under observation until he wakes. Once he does, Thomas wants to be notified immediately.”
Again Sophia eyed Ezekiel’s top assistant. Did Thomas know she was to become his boss’s newest bride? “Of course,” she murmured.
“Sophia, I don’t want you to leave his side,” the doctor ordered. “Ana, you can assist me in seeing the remainder of the patients. Sophia, beep me the instant this man opens his eyes.” He pointed to the buzzer on the wall. It corresponded to the walkie-talkie he wore on his belt. “Understood?”
Both women nodded.
“Good. Ana, come with me,” he barked, turning to hurry away. As Sophia watched them go, she realized Thomas and his two assistants had already disappeared.
Aware she might be stuck here awhile, even after her shift had technically ended, she pulled up the visitor’s chair and planted herself in it. While she wasn’t allowed any reading material at work, she did keep a pad of paper and a good pen. Sometimes she drew, sometimes she wrote poetry or amusing short stories. When she’d finished, she always destroyed whatever she’d created, fearful that someone would see.
The stranger in the bed stirred. Not a full move, just a jerky shifting of his position and a hitch in his breath. She put her untouched paper and pen aside to study him. His thick, dark hair was nearly black. Wondering if it would feel as silky as it looked, she glanced around once before she reached out and drew a few strands of it through her fingers. Yep. Exactly as she’d thought.
Her touch apparently made the man restless. He began tossing his head from side to side, muttering under his breath. When he gave a loud groan, she stood, eyeing the machines that monitored his heartbeat and blood pressure. While they’d climbed a little, the numbers remained well within the realm of normal.
When, after a moment, he didn’t move again, she sat back down. She felt confident he’d wake soon and, when he did, no doubt he’d have a lot of questions. She suspected this was why Dr. Drew had requested immediate notification. He wanted to be the one to give the answers.
But she wouldn’t press that buzzer until the patient had regained full consciousness. She’d learned the hard way that one of the worst things she could do was waste the doctor’s precious time.
Sighing, she debated reaching for her pad of paper again. Her fingers itched to sketch the chiseled planes of this man’s face. But such a drawing would take time and she didn’t want to be caught with it, so she remained empty-handed, simply watching. And waiting.
When he opened his eyes and focused on her, she caught her breath. They were blue, a peculiar light shade that almost appeared gray.
“Where am I?” he rasped, wincing as he tried to lift his head.
Now she knew she had to call the doctor. “Just a minute,” she told him, trying to sound soothing. “I need to—” Her words cut off as he shot out his hand and gripped her wrist. Hard.
“Don’t lie. Tell me where in the hell I am.”
Shocked, she tried to pull free. His grip was surprisingly strong for one so recently injured. Finally she succeeded in yanking out of his grasp and rushed to press the buzzer. Once she’d accomplished this, she spun around, chest heaving. “The doctor will be right in.” Of course, she was short of breath.
He didn’t respond. With his eyes narrowed and his jaw hardened, he looked dangerous. A jagged thrill shot through her, again making her question her sanity.
Then Dr. Drew arrived, Ana close on his heel.
“Here’s our patient,” the doc exclaimed. His tone and expression both were far too jovial—completely unlike him. Sophia and Ana exchanged a quick glance. More proof that this patient, whoever he might be, had some stature.
“You have quite the nasty wound on the back of your head, but we’ve got you fixed up. You’ll soon be as good as new.”
“Thomas has been notified,” Ana put in. “He is on his way here.”
At her words, the patient swung his head toward her. “Thomas?” The name came out a snarl. “That’s exactly who I want to see. He’s sure as hell got some explaining to do.” Crossing his muscular arms, he glared at Ana, then Sophia and lastly Dr. Drew.
No one said anything. Even Dr. Drew didn’t dare cross someone who mattered to Thomas and, by extension, Ezekiel.
The silence felt incredibly awkward. To everyone except, apparently, the patient.
“Well?” he demanded. “What’s the holdup? Where’s Thomas? One minute I’m getting into his car and the next—”
“You’re here. Very good.” Thomas strode into the room, cutting him off. “I’ll need a few moments alone with Jack,” he said. “Everyone clear out.”
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