Dr. Billionaire's Virgin Read online

  “It’s on or it’s off,” he says. “It’s not actually like jumpstarting a car. Once it flashes blue, it’s on. If it doesn’t work...it doesn’t work. That’s it.”

  “Great,” I say, pocketing the control.

  “Thank you,” Meiner says. “And good luck. Call me as soon as she’s awake, and as soon as...the dust has settled.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “You can count on it.”

  The dust. That means Bell ripping two new holes in my ass. Even if Rose wakes up, it will take a lot of charm and sweet talk to keep my ass from getting shit-canned.

  I sit down next to Rose, the two of us alone in the empty wing of the hospital. It starts to feel like we’re the only two people in the world. Even though I’ve never talked to her, it feels like she’d make good company if it was the end of the world.

  And if things don’t go well with this, it will be the end of the world anyway – for both of us.

  I check my watch. Another thirty minutes left until we hit the two-hour mark.

  Then I hear a fist slamming on the operating room door.

  I rush from Rose’s side toward the doorway. It’s a big, heavy double door with thick glass panes. I see a burly security guard and Dr. Bell standing on the other side of the glass. I can see her lips moving as the security guard fumbles through a jumble of keys on a keyring. No sound gets through the door, but I can tell she’s shouting my name.

  I dash back toward Rose, and grab the wheeled metal stand that held all the surgery equipment.

  I dump all the equipment onto the floor, the clashing echoing loudly in the silence, and rush with the stand in hand toward the door. The guard is still digging through the keys; no one is familiar with this new wing yet or knows which key goes to what door.

  I jam the metal stand between the door handles, effectively barricading the door. Dr. Bell slams her fist up forcefully against the window, but I ignore her.

  I hear the lock finally click, but the stand holds the doors shut tight. They won’t budge.

  More security guards arrive and immediately start kicking the fucking doors in unison. The stand won’t hold much longer.

  I check my watch. It’s been an hour and thirty-five minutes. If I risk waiting any longer, they might arrest me before I can hold the damn button down for thirty seconds. She’ll never get a chance. We’ll never know if the procedure was successful or not.

  I need to wake her up now. If they disarm the device, she’ll never have a shot at life. I flip the switch and press the button, holding it down.

  I turn my back to the door, hoping the stand will hold for at least that long. They would have to cut my hands and fingers off to get me to let go of the button at this point anyway.

  I stand over Rose, smiling down at her. “You’re going to wake up soon, Rose. It’s not going to be the warmest welcome, I’m afraid. I’ll try to be there for you, though…”

  Shit, it’s not like she can hear me yet. The device hasn’t even blinked yet.

  Then it flashes blue. I watch Rose’s eyelids. My heart is thumping so hard it feels like it may burst right out of my chest.

  I hear the incessant pounding on the double doors. I look over my shoulder to see if they are making progress. The metal stand is bending. I could barricade the thing with my back if I really wanted to, but that wouldn’t buy more than a few more seconds.

  I sit down next to Rose again, ignoring the chaos on the other side of the door. “Wake up, Rose. Please, wake up.”

  I take her hand and squeeze it gently. “You’ve gotta wake up, Rose. I know you’ve been sleeping a long time, but time is up. It’s time to get up.”

  I suddenly hear shouting voices. I look frantically toward the door and see the stand is bent so badly that the doors are slowly starting to part. They’re already open almost a foot or two. Guards are going to squeeze in here any moment now, or the stand is going to slip out and they will all run in, shoulder to shoulder.

  “Rose,” I say, shaking her gently by the shoulders. “Wake. Up.”

  I look down at the device. It’s still flashing blue. It’s either on or it’s off. Once it flashes blue, it’s on. If it doesn’t work...it doesn’t work. That’s it.

  Fuck.

  “Dr. Prince!” a voice shouts out. “Step away from the patient!”

  I look over again, and I see the skinniest one of the guards. The top half of his body has slid through the door, and he’s pulling at the bent metal stand as he’s squeezing the rest of his body through the gap in the doors. I see him reaching for his pepper spray.

  Suddenly an urge spreads through my body, and my chest is filled with a strange and nearly frantic warmth.

  “They call you Sleeping Beauty,” I say. “And I’m not exactly a prince—even though my last name is Prince…”

  Fuck, this is so damn stupid. If I’m going to get arrested, and Rose is going to die, I might as well do it, though. What could it hurt?

  I lean down and softly press my lips on top of hers. I’m surprised by how warm they are. I know she is just asleep, but I didn’t expect to feel such warmth, such life.

  I don’t dare use my tongue, just brush my wet lips against hers—a kiss goodbye, a way of saying that I’m sorry, a—

  I feel her eyelashes flutter, brushing against my cheek, and I pull back instantly. Those big emerald green eyes are wide open, and they’re locked on mine. Her mouth falls open, but no sound comes out.

  “You’re...you’re awake,” I stammer, smiling at her with a wild grin. I want to shout and cheer, but at that instant, the skinny guard tackles me to the ground.

  I feel my head slam against the floor.

  “She’s awake!” I shout. “Dr. Bell, she’s awake!”

  2

  Rose

  Seven Years Ago

  “Rose,” Dylan says, shaking my shoulders. “Wake up.”

  “I’m tired,” I say, yawning.

  “It’s like 4 p.m.,” he says. “Don’t you have a date tonight?”

  I jolt myself awake and nearly fall out of bed. “It’s four o’clock!” I shout. “How the hell can you let me sleep that long?”

  Dylan frowns at me. “I tried to wake you up, but you seemed really, really tired.”

  “I went to bed at eleven last night, Dylan, come on. No one needs that much sleep!”

  He shrugs. “Whatever, Rose, I’ve gotta go to work. Mom and Dad won’t be back ‘til later.”

  Perfect.

  Just like I’d planned. Ryan is going to come over at six, and I’ll convince him to stay here alone with me instead of going out.

  I get dressed and spend way too long doing my hair and makeup. I want to look really good for Ryan. I want to look perfect.

  Okay, it doesn’t have to be perfect. I’ve made a big deal out of losing my virginity, and that’s why it hasn’t happened yet. If I wait for perfection, I might never lose it, or I’ll be super old, like twenty-five or something. Once you are that old and still haven’t done it, guys will just think you’re weird. They’ll think that there’s something wrong with you. Eighteen is a good age to lose it, and Ryan is a nice enough guy.

  He’s a bit dopey, but he’s nice. He’s skinnier than I’d prefer, but he’s got a really nice smile, and good hands. I’ve always been a sucker for guys with nice hands.

  I’ve kind of...implied that I’m a lot more experienced than I am. I’ve never outright lied to him, but he probably thinks I’ve had sex before. The last time I told a guy that I was a virgin, it scared him off. He said something like, “Virgins always get too clingy, it’s not fucking worth it.”

  He was an asshole anyway.

  The doorbell rings around six, and I turn the TV on to make it look like I wasn’t just sitting there with my hands in my lap waiting for him to get here. Which is totally what I was doing.

  I open the door, and Ryan smiles at me. He’s wearing bright teal shorts and a white polo shirt. And Birkenstocks. Definitely a bit dorky-looking, but cute. And as I said, he
’s nice enough.

  “Hey,” I say, smiling.

  I press my arms together, so that my cleavage looks much more impressive than it normally does. My tank top fits tight against my bra, but the bra is probably too big for me. I like how the tank top and too-large bra makes my boobs look a bit bigger than they really are. They are not very big.

  I see Ryan’s eyes look down at my chest. Perfect.

  He meets my eyes again and leans in to kiss me. His lips press against mine, but when I go to slide my tongue into his mouth, he pulls away.

  “The movie is starting soon,” he says.

  “I was thinking we could stay in and watch one—”

  “No way!” he says. “I really want to see this movie bad, so we’ve gotta go. I got the tickets already.”

  “Deception?” I ask.

  “Inception,” he says. “It’s by the director of Batman, and it’s supposed to be fucking sick.”

  Great. My boyfriend would rather go see an action movie than make out with me.

  “Ryan,” I say. “My parents aren’t home…they won’t be back until after midnight.”

  “Cool,” he says. “We can come back here after the movie then.”

  I sigh. It’s good enough. I’ll have at least two or three hours alone with him. I’ll just let him get the stupid movie out of his system.

  When we find our seats in the theater, I try to kiss him as soon as the lights go out.

  “Chill out, Rose,” he says. “People can see us.”

  What’s wrong with this picture? Isn’t my boyfriend supposed to want to get into my pants?

  “Damn,” Ryan whispers to me during the movie. “Ellen Page looks hot as fuck in this.”

  I yawn, feeling too tired to even be mad or disappointed. Maybe Ryan really isn’t the right guy.

  I wake up and see a top spinning. It wobbles around, back and forth, and the credits roll.

  What? Did I seriously miss the entire movie? I don’t even remember falling asleep. And didn’t I sleep for well over twelve hours last night?

  I rub my eyes.

  “Holy shit!” Ryan says, shaking me. “Do you think it’s real?”

  “What?” I ask.

  “His world! Do you think the thing kept spinning forever, or—?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, feeling scared. I’m starting to worry something is wrong with me, but I don’t want to scare Ryan, so I just come up with an answer that makes it seem like I saw the movie. That I didn’t fall asleep with no warning. Maybe I have narcolepsy.

  “I think it spun forever,” I say, hoping that’s the right thing to say.

  “What a mind-fuck!” he says.

  I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  “Imagine if you were stuck in a dream for decades like that...it’s so crazy!”

  I didn’t even dream, it was like the two-hour movie never even happened. I closed my eyes, and then it was over, just like that.

  Ryan drives me back to my place, and I relax a bit. It’s Saturday, and I’m a teenager. I had a hard week at school, a lot of tests, and I’m probably just really worn out. It’s probably nothing.

  When we go up to my room, Ryan finally seems to be in the mood, and he throws me down on my bed, then crawls on top of me. “Sorry that I said Ellen Page was hot.”

  “It’s fine,” I say. “She kind of is.”

  He laughs. “Not as hot as you.”

  I don’t quite buy it, but I’ll take it. I grab him and press my lips against his, sliding my tongue into his mouth.

  We kiss for a long time, and I feel my eyelids getting heavy.

  No. I can’t be sleepy. My heart is racing, and I’m about to lose my virginity. How could I be sleepy? What is wrong with me?

  Suddenly I hear my mother’s voice above me, almost ghost-like. “What were you doing in her room, Ryan? With her on the bed?”

  “Uh,” he mutters.

  “Cut him a break,” my Dad says. “We know what they were doing. That’s not important now.”

  “Why won’t she wake up?” My mom’s voice is panicked.

  Right as I feel myself drifting off to sleep again, I think about what Ryan said. What if you were stuck in a dream for decades?

  But each time I hear a voice again, my eyes won’t open, and I can’t help but feel it’s the opposite for me. I’m not dreaming, not even for a single moment—instead, time is racing past me while I sleep forever. A dreamless sleep, and there are only brief and fleeting moments of consciousness.

  I remember hearing Dylan say that Mom and Dad died in a car crash. I hope that even if I can’t dream that I can have nightmares. They didn’t really die, I’m just having a nightmare.

  Dylan’s voice fades away. I don’t hear it anymore. There’s only a new voice. It’s a man’s voice. A real man, not a boy like Ryan. I think he’s my doctor, but I only ever hear a few words from him at a time. I struggle to open my eyes, but I always drift right back to sleep. He has a deep voice, and he always speaks to me in low and soft tones, like he’s afraid to wake me up. The irony of that makes me want to laugh, but I can’t control my body at all. I can only hear scattered words, and I can only think for moments at a time. I don’t know how much time passes. Sometimes I wonder if it’s weeks or months, and other times, I fear that it’s been years.

  If I ever wake up again, I fear I’ll wake up as an old woman, frail and alone.

  Finally, something changes. It’s like a switch flips. I hear my first coherent sentences since I last heard Dylan’s voice.

  It’s his voice. He’s calling me by my name. He knows me, and I can feel his strong, protective hands gripping my shoulders. “You’ve gotta wake up, Rose. I know you’ve been sleeping a long time, but time is up. It’s time to get up.”

  It’s time to get up? What if I drift right back to sleep?

  Then I hear a loud sound. A thudding and banging in the distance. Shouting.

  Maybe the world is ending? Maybe I get to wake up just in time to see everything end.

  “They call you Sleeping Beauty,” I hear his voice say. “And I’m not exactly a prince—even though my last name is Prince…”

  Sleeping Beauty? Me? Maybe I am dreaming now. I’ve slept for God knows how long, and I’ve only now started dreaming. I’ve dreamed up a prince, and—

  I feel warm lips pressing against mine, and I close my eyes. No, my eyes have been closed for ages, haven’t they? But I feel my eyelids fluttering open now, and I try to—

  They jolt open. Light hits me, as bright as one thousand suns, and the man pulls away from me. I can still taste him on my lips, and his masculine scent overwhelms me.

  He blurs into focus as my eyes adjust to the light. I see a strong, rugged jaw, covered in stubble. He has high cheekbones and dark, piercing brown eyes that stare so deeply into me that I feel naked. Then he smiles, and it’s like a Greek statue come to life. Dimples form in his cheeks, and his perfectly white teeth gleam.

  My mouth drops open, and my heart races. I know this man has watched over me for however long I’ve been asleep, and I feel like I trust him, like—

  “You’re...you’re awake,” he says. It’s the same voice from before, but it sounds more shocked than I’ve ever heard it. Just how long was I asleep for, anyway?

  Then I see a man coming up behind Prince, and I try to point, but the man slams right into him.

  I hear them crash to the floor.

  “Dr. Bell, she’s awake!” he shouts from the floor.

  I notice a number of security guards all standing around, looking confused.

  An older woman in a white coat with greying hair walks between the guards. There’s a serious aura of authority surrounding her, and when she says, “Off!” the guard lets go of Prince.

  Prince shoves him away and stands back up. “Rose, you’re—”

  “Get away from her!” Dr. Bell shouts. “You lunatic! I should have known you’d do something ridiculous like this.”

  “Prince,” I s
ay, my voice coming out in a croak. “Please, let me talk to him,” I say. My throat is so dry, but they all look at me in stunned silence. They must have heard me.

  “Get her some water!” Prince shouts.

  The guards look at him, dumbfounded.

  “Go!” he shouts.

  One of them runs off, and I turn my head to look at Dr. Bell. She is fuming.

  “How long?” I say. “How old...how old am I?”

  I look at my hands. They are white as paper, but they don’t look old.

  Prince and Bell give each other a look. Bell puts a finger to her mouth and shakes her head.

  Prince looks at me and says, “Seven years, Rose, you’re twenty-five years old.”

  Jesus. Seven years! I’m...I lost so much time. And what if I fall asleep again? Maybe I’ll only wake up for a few minutes, and then the next time I wake up I’ll be thirty-five.

  The guard comes back with a water bottle.

  Prince snatches the bottle out of his hand and uncaps it. “Let me hold it for you,” he says.

  His hand touches the back of my head and lifts it up gently. His hand feels so strong, but gentle at the same time. He must be a doctor, too. Dr. Prince.

  “Just a sip,” Dr. Prince says.

  I take a sip, and it tastes better than anything I’ve ever had. I crave more, and I grab for the bottle, but Dr. Prince pulls it away.

  “Easy,” he says.

  “We have to get her back into the main wing,” Dr. Bell says. “And you, Kaden, need to get the hell out of here--”

  “He stays,” I blurt out, the hoarseness of my voice slicing at my throat. “He’s the only one I trust.”

  3

  Kaden

  “You abducted a patient,” Dr Bell says. “And performed completely unauthorized brain surgery!”

  “And it worked,” I say. “You were going to kill her. I saved her life.”

  “The ends don’t justify the means,” she says.

  We’re in her office. Her brother Dylan is with Rose in her hospital room. I want to get back to her as soon as I can, not sit here arguing with Dr. Bell.