Читать книгу Playing With Fire - Kayla Perrin, Kayla Perrin - Страница 8

4

Zienna finished reading the medical questionnaire her newest patient, who was sitting on the examining bed, had filled out, describing the pain he was experiencing. Before he’d arrived for his appointment she had studied the files that had come from his physician—over two cups of very strong coffee, since she needed the caffeine to help her stay awake after her largely sleepless night.

“So, let me sum up what I understand from what you’ve told me and what I’ve read in your file,” she said as she placed the clipboard on her desk, then moved to stand in front of him. “You’ve been dealing with pain in your right elbow for nearly two years, which you attribute to your work as a machinist.”

Ed, a heavyset man in his mid-forties, nodded. “Yep.”

“And despite various therapies, you’re still suffering pain.”

“Yeah. And now my doc has suggested surgery, but I don’t want to do that. Not yet, anyway.”

“Which is why you’re here.” Zienna smiled pleasantly. “I’m very glad you contacted our clinic. Even though you had disappointing results with other doctors, you’re going to be quite happy with your decision to put off having surgery.”

“You sound really sure about that.”

“There’s a saying—he who treats the site of pain is lost. So let me ask you, have you ever had any problems with your left knee?”

Ed’s chubby cheeks puckered with his frown. “My left knee?”

“Kinesiologists believe in holistic treatment, which is based on the interconnectedness of the entire body. What I see time and again is that the area where a person suffers pain is often not the source of the pain. It’s something called interlimb neural coupling, which is a fancy way of saying that the limbs are connected in terms of functionality. So hearing your symptoms with your right elbow, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that you’ve had issues with your left knee.”

Zienna regarded Ed, and saw in his eyes when his brain connected the dots. “I did. I injured my left knee years ago when cycling. I still feel pain there from time to time.”

She couldn’t help smiling. “Excellent.”

“Excellent?” he echoed, looking confused.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just...well, I love my job, and I especially love when I’m able to help someone who feels all hope is lost. Just last month I had a patient come here with a torn ligament in his shoulder, and he, too, believed he would have to have surgery. Once I was able to diagnose the true source of his shoulder problems—which were actually connected to problems in his opposite ankle—within a couple of sessions he was pain-free.”

Ed looked skeptical.

“It’s the magic of kinesiology.” Zienna had treated patients whose issues were emotional, with their stress manifested as pain in their body. In her practice, she dealt with a person’s physical, emotional, mental and spiritual well-being as a way to effectively care for their problems.

“I won’t begin treatment until you’ve had all the tests we require here at the clinic, but I feel very confident that I can successfully eliminate the pain in your elbow.”

Now Ed smiled. “If you can save me from surgery, I’ll be forever in your debt.”

At that moment, the wall phone rang. Zienna turned to look at it, knowing that for the receptionist to have put a call through to her in the examining room, it had to be important.

“Excuse me a moment, Ed.”

She crossed the room to the phone and lifted the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hey, babe.”

At the sound of Nicholas’s voice, Zienna frowned slightly. Why was he calling her on this line?

“Hey,” she said in a lowered voice. “What’s up?”

“Just concerned about you. The way you left this morning...it didn’t feel right. I called your cell, but you didn’t answer.”

“Right.”

“You okay?”

“Um-hmm. Yep. But, um, can I call you back in a little bit? I’m with a client right now.”

“Oh, okay. No problem. I just wanted to hear your voice. Make sure you’re all right.”

“Excellent,” she said, hoping for Ed’s sake to sound professional.

“I get it. You can’t talk. But let’s do something tonight.”

“Sure. You’ll give me the details in a bit?”

“Yeah, I’ll call you later.”

Zienna was inwardly beaming as she replaced the receiver. It was a nice feeling, knowing that Nicholas was worried about her. He was a great guy, and for the first time in a long time she was in a happy relationship. She still got butterflies when she talked to him, something that hadn’t lasted with the men she’d dated in the more recent past.

“If you go out to reception, Jamie will take care of booking the tests we require, which are all done in-house. You should be able to see me again by next week.”

“Great. Thanks so much.”

Zienna saw Ed out of the examining room, but her mind was on Nicholas and what she’d discussed with Alexis that morning. Hearing Nicholas’s voice, she felt better about her decision not to tell him of her past with Wendell. Doing so might hurt him, and she didn’t want to jeopardize what they had.

“Um, hey.”

Zienna turned, and was surprised to see Ed standing in the doorway. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to say that not only are you beautiful, you’re incredibly smart. I’m glad my friend referred me to this clinic.”

“Oh.” Zienna hadn’t expected that. “Why, thank you.”

Ed offered a bashful smile, then a little wave.

As he disappeared again, Zienna made a face, confused by what had just happened. Was Ed simply being nice, or was he a little bit smitten?

It wouldn’t be the first time a client had become enamored with her. She was attractive and liked to smile, something that won over many men. The way she saw it, having male clientele develop a crush on her was a bit of an occupational hazard.

As she sat at the desk, her mind ventured back to when she’d met Wendell five years ago. And the crush that had turned into something more.

As one of the four athletic therapists for the Chicago Bears, she had seen him during practices, and then when the NFL season had started. He’d been thirty-two at the time, almost considered a senior when it came to professional sports, but he still had the kind of skill that put some of the younger players to shame. His talent as a wide receiver kept him in the starting position on the team’s roster.

Zienna hadn’t personally engaged with him until the tackle that had injured his left shoulder. And pretty much instantly, the professional demeanor between them had changed.

He had torn the rotator cuff, and weeks of physiotherapy with the team’s head athletic therapist followed. Once his shoulder had stabilized, he’d begun work with Zienna to further help with his healing and regain optimum strength.

The spark between them had been immediate that first day she’d met with him one on one. Perhaps it was the way he’d looked at her with those beautiful hazel eyes...a heated look that had melted her professional resolve almost instantly.

Zienna knew it was about more than the look he’d given her, because right from the start she had noticed him. Of all the players on the team, Wendell was the one who stood out to her. Of course, she never would have approached him in a personal way. She’d valued her fairly new position with the Chicago Bears too much to do that.

Wendell, on the other hand, had no such qualms. He’d asked her out the day of their second session.

Everything about him had made Zienna want to forget all about being professional, but she knew better than to accept his offer, and had politely turned him down. Undeterred, Wendell had proudly told her, when they got together for his third exercise session, that he’d made reservations for the two of them to have dinner the following Saturday night at Michael Jordan’s Steak House. It hadn’t been a question.

He had known her answer without having to ask.

And Zienna, turned on by his confidence, had been unable to deny him.

The dinner had been wonderful, enhanced by a personal exchange with Michael Jordan, who’d been in that night. Zienna wasn’t surprised to learn that Wendell and Michael knew each other, but she did feel extraspecial when the basketball legend sat at their table and chatted with them for a few minutes.

It wasn’t just the top-of-the-line champagne that had Zienna forgetting her own moral code after dinner and agreeing to go back to Wendell’s place for a nightcap. It was her lust for him. From the moment she’d agreed to have dinner with him, she’d known that the sex would be inevitable.

What she didn’t expect was just how amazing he was in bed. Or on the sofa, in the shower...

Zienna felt the stirring of desire, and it snapped her out of her trip down memory lane. Made her realize where she was, and what had just happened.

Good Lord, what was wrong with her? She was thinking about Wendell to the point where she was getting aroused?

She stood, paced the floor. And all she could think of was what Alexis had said last night. It took you years to get over Wendell.

That comment had allowed her to acknowledge her fear that seeing Wendell would erase all the progress she’d made. Damn it, was that already happening? Were thoughts of him going to invade her mind at regular intervals again?

“No,” she said aloud. She wouldn’t let them.

She was going to see Nicholas later, the man she loved. The man who could be her everything.

Unlike Wendell.

He’d never been hers. Learning he’d followed someone else to Texas—when he’d told her that he wasn’t ready to settle down—was the most bitter part of all.

Oh, he had wanted to commit—just not to her. When he’d left her, Zienna had stupidly told herself that Wendell had been afraid of their intense connection, intimidated by it. That he didn’t know how to handle his feelings for her. And she’d fully expected him to return.

It had been a fairy tale concocted out of total bull to make herself feel better.

That thought helped her purge the unsettling sexual memories of Wendell from her mind. He was the last man on the planet she should be thinking of.

Zienna got her cell phone and sent Nicholas a text: Can’t wait for tonight.

And to make the night extraspecial, she would stop by a lingerie shop on the way home and pick up something very skimpy—for Nicholas’s eyes only.