Reign Vincent. Director and multi-talented surgeon in Les Serpents. He's always been on top of his game and limits distractions. He's never done anything out of character for anyone- except for Royalty LaCroix. What's four years?
Royalty LaCroix. A...
"Mmm," I watch as Royalty turns in her sleep. Okay, that sounded weird. I don't regularly watch her sleep. Today's a special day. Her curls are wrapped in a silk bonnet. She's adorable.
I maneuvered the lilac mini cake in my hand. "Wake up, peach," I roused her by running my thumb over the apple of her cheek. Her skin was so soft. "Come on, birthday girl," I cooed. Her big brown eyes fluttered open. She came to and gave a sleepy smile.
"Morning," she hummed, closing her eyes and returning to sleep. I smiled softly, sitting on the floor.
"Happy birthday, peach," I cupped her cheek. "How does it feel to be twenty-nine?"
"Like a normal day except with a handsome man with green eyes waking me up," she snuggles into her pillow. I chuckled. Sleepy Royalty was one of my favourites.
"Well, do you want to wake up for me? The handsome man got you a purple cake," I smiled when her eyes burst open with so much joy. I may not be a fan of birthdays but this woman right there makes me look forward to them a little more every year. I may dislike the tenth of October but the third of August was a day I'll always be ready for.
"You had me at purple," she beams now sitting in front of me with her legs right in front of my face. She would've knocked the cake right out of my hands if I didn't rest it on the table.
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Thick thighs dangle in front of me like a carrot in front of a horse. A big horse. I swallowed those thoughts and set the cake on her lap. "Eeee," she happily wiggled on the bed. I tried to find the purplest cake in the store but nothing to blind me. I still had to look at it. "Thank you, big guy," she grabs my chin and kisses my cheek three times.
"Anything for you, peach," I hugged her, burying my nose in her neck.
Damn butterflies.
—
Three months in...
"Alright. I need you to check on room 107. That's Mrs. John. She is going to need the pills on her chart in an hour. Room 100, just check the bandages. Make sure there's no infection," I listen on as Raph gives Royalty instructions for his service. She's three weeks in and thriving. I can't count the number of times she's passed out in my truck this week. "And make sure 106 doesn't get any more morphine. I'll call someone to do alternative methods."
Royal nods, taking her notes. Sharp brain on that one.
"Page me if anyone dies," he winks as her face falls. Raph's a f*cking pest sometimes. "I'm kidding. If anyone needs me, find out the problem and page me."
"Deal."
"Good luck, birthday girl," he smiles at her and answers his page. He pats my shoulder as he passes me. Royalty gathers her necessary charts and walks over to me. I sneakily trail my eyes down her body. God, she's addicting. She's thirty-one today and so goddamn stunning. She got her hair done last week in purple and dark brown, shoulder-length goddess braids.
