:–
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Winifred was startled and tried to jump up, but Humbert’s strong hands held her firmly in place.
“Dr. Pierce,” she said through clenched teeth.
When Humbert let go, Winifred immediately put several steps between them. She took a slow, steadying breath before speaking. “You should really learn some professionalism.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away.
“Professionalism?” Humbert repeated quietly to himself. The word almost made him laugh.
He watched her walk away, the light blue fabric of her dress swaying gently until she disappeared around the corner. The only thing left behind was the faint trace of her perfume.
Later, as he drove away from the hospital, he noticed a woman in light blue walking in the distance. Even before he fully recognized her, a familiar scent drifted through his car window –something clean and subtle that cut straight through the humid summer air.
The harsh August sun beat down, yet Humbert found himself captivated by her beautiful skin, a quality that stirred some forgotten memory.
His mind drifted back to that moment he leaned in–close enough to feel the whisper–soft touch of her lips and catch the faint, lingering sweetness of her scent.
He could still recall the startling sensation of her waist under his hand, so small that it felt as though he could hold her completely with just one grasp.
She’d struggled in a panic, flustered like a startled animal, and he knew she must’ve been cursing him furiously in her mind even as she barely managed to hold onto her
composure.
Humbert’s black Porsche Cayenne pulled up beside Winifred, its horn blaring impatiently.
She jumped at the sound, her body tensing like a frightened cat as she stared warily at the vehicle.
The passenger window slid down to reveal Humbert’s sharply chiseled features. “Get in,” he said, his tone leaving no room for discussion.
“That won’t be necessary, Dr. Pierce,” Winifred replied, holding her ground.
His eyes remained fixed on her face, flushed and glistening with sweat in the heat. “I’m not asking,” he stated flatly, watching strands of her hair cling to her damp cheeks as hot air rushed through the open window.
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“Still want your dog back?” he asked, his tone a clear and teasing threat. “If not, I’m getting rid
of that fat mutt.”
Winifred hesitated for a few seconds before finally getting in the car.
*****
The car pulled into the underground garage beneath Humbert’s apartment complex. She followed behind him, maintaining a cautious distance.
Humbert lived on the twelfth floor. He punched in his entry code without any attempt to hide it. Winifred instinctively turned away, feeling it was wrong to look.
Watching her, Humbert let out a soft chuckle.
He walked in first, while Winifred lingered at the doorway. The shoe cabinet had no guest slippers, not even any disposable covers.
As she hesitated there, unsure of how to enter without making a mess, a single bark echoed from inside the apartment. A cream–colored Golden Retriever puppy came bounding out and then stopped to lock eyes with her.
From deeper within the apartment, Humbert’s voice called out, “Nemo, come here.”
Ignoring Humbert’s command, the dog, Nemo, fixed its attention on Winifred, sniffing her carefully for a moment before its tail began to wag.
Winifred looked at the cream–colored dog, noticing its muzzle had gone white with age.
She was surprised that Humbert owned a dog, and she instinctively reached out to pat its head. This dog reminded her of a cream–colored stray she had rescued seven years before, which had been a golden retriever mix.
At that time, she lived at school with no family around, and when she found the soaking wet puppy that was only three or four months old, she begged Humbert to take it in.
Back then, he had refused her with nothing more than a curt, “I don’t like dogs.”
As she looked at this golden retriever now, she wondered for a second if it could be the same dog, but she immediately knew that was impossible.
“Nemo-” Humbert called again, his voice louder, and the dog finally turned and ran to him.
He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves before picking up the puppy and carrying it over to Winifred. “Here,” he said.
He was also holding a plastic bag full of dog food and treats. “I bought extra,” he said in a flat
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tone.
Winifred took the puppy, which whined softly and settled in her arms. She didn’t look up at him, just keeping her eyes down as she spoke softly. “Thank you for this. Really. Let me pay you for it.”
She glanced in the bag and saw high–quality puppy food and milk formula. It all looked expensive, and for a second, she felt a strange, hard–to–place sensation.
Humbert had been ready to refuse the payment, but he paused to look at her instead.
She was still standing at the door, her gaze cool and directed at the floor.
He noticed she seemed to like blue; she had been wearing it the last time he saw her as well. The bright light from the hallway fell on her, creating an intriguing atmosphere around her.
Humbert thought Winifred looked familiar. But he had spent the last seven years in Isrinda, and he knew he would remember if he had seen her during that time. A woman with her appearance, figure, and presence would make a strong impression on any man.
This strange feeling had begun when he first saw her at the clinic.
Humbert took out his phone and opened WhatsApp.
Winifred did not add him. Instead, she opened her bag and took out her wallet. Even today, she still carried several hundred dollars in cash with her every day.
She took out all the money inside–150 dollars–and handed it to him.
Humbert’s eyebrow lifted slightly as he studied her slender fingers and took the cash. He rubbed the bills thoughtfully between his fingers, finding the whole situation rather intriguing, and his eyes grew more intense.
Winifred stepped into the elevator. As the doors were closing, a pair of long hands reached in from outside and pulled them back open,
Humbert’s intense gaze was fixed on her, so penetrating that it felt like he could see right through her. “Ms. Nelson,” he said in a low voice, “have we met before?”
Winifred’s heart gave a sudden leap. “Oh… well, I did bring my daughter in to see you for an appointment once.”
“I wasn’t referring to that time,” he replied, his eyes still holding hers.
Winifred’s voice came out clear and firm, though perhaps a bit too firm, as if she was trying to hide something. “No,” she stated definitively, “we have never met before.”
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Chapter 11
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
