Teacher For An Alien Doctor (Intergalactic Exchange Program #3) - Roxie Ray Page 0,1

my expression neutral as his smooth, deep voice seemed to slide over my skin like a caress.

Dylan nodded, and the doctor knelt before my nephew, his assessing gaze sweeping over him, taking in the cut on his arm.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dylan. My name is Soren, and I’m here to take care of you, okay?”

I felt Dylan tense beneath my arm, but he nodded once more.

Then the doctor—Soren—stood once more and faced me squarely. Up close, he was even more gorgeous, his skin smooth over his strong jaw, his eyes clear and bright. He definitely looked like a god—or a king.

God, what was I thinking? I was being ridiculous. Why was I reacting to him like this? He was just a man, after all, even if he was more breathtaking than any I’d ever seen.

I blinked, realizing a few heartbeats too late that he’d spoken to me. What did he say? I wracked my brain, trying not to seem totally affected. He was gesturing to an exam room just beyond us.

“Yes, of course,” I said, hoping my response properly answered whatever he’d said. “Thank you,” I added for good measure. Then I squeezed Dylan’s shoulders and led him into the exam room.

Dylan. That’s why I was here. That was what mattered. Not some doctor who just so happened to look like he could have starred in all my teenage dreams. I helped Dylan up onto the exam table, keeping my focus on him as Soren followed us into the room.

“Let’s take a look at that, shall we?” His voice was calm and soothing, and Dylan seemed perfectly at ease, which was saying something for this doctor’s bedside manner.

Soren removed the bandages I’d hastily covered the wound with, and I flinched as I saw the deep gash underneath the bright hospital lighting. It was even worse than I’d thought.

Soren knitted his brows together. “Yikes. That’s quite a battle wound you’ve got there, tough guy. How do you feel about scars?”

Dylan giggled, pressing his free hand to his mouth, and I relaxed just a little. It couldn’t be so bad if he was laughing, right?

“Just between the two of us,” Soren continued, giving Dylan a conspiratorial wink, “I happen to think they make you look like a hardened warrior. Or at least that’s what my friend Kain says.”

“Kain the Great Warrior?” Dylan said, eyes wide as he spoke for the first time since he’d cried out in pain back at the school. “You know him?”

Soren chuckled. “Sure do. One of my best friends, actually.”

Dylan looked at Soren in awe. “That’s so cool.”

“I’ll try my best to stitch you up so that you don’t have much of a scar, but just in case, remember what I said.”

Dylan nodded somberly. I glanced down at his arm, and that’s when I realized that the entire time Soren had been making small talk, he’d been cleaning and prepping the wound, completely distracting both of us from what he was doing. Impressive.

I bit my lip as he reached for his supplies to begin stitching up Dylan’s arm, not sure I wanted to watch this part. But there wasn’t much else to look at.

Soren kept chatting away while he worked, and Dylan held it together like a champ—not at all what I’d expect from an eight-year-old. I took the opportunity to study Soren a little closer.

From this angle, I could see that his long hair, tied back from his face, reached nearly to the middle of his back. His nose was straight and perfectly balanced with the rest of his face. And his mouth… His lips were full as they curved into a smile while he talked with Dylan.

When he cut his gaze to me, I bit my lip, wondering if he’d realized I was checking him out. God, I hoped not.

“How did Dylan get this cut?”

I frowned. “I honestly don’t know. I stepped into the supply closet at the school where I teach to grab some candy to teach a lesson on addition and subtraction. That’s when I heard a scream. When I stepped back out, I saw the cut. My co-teacher didn’t see it happen either.” Strange because Lareis never missed a thing. “And Dylan hasn’t wanted to talk about it yet.”

Soren’s brows drew tightly together, but he didn’t push the issue. Instead, he just smiled at Dylan. “Well, that’s about it, tough guy.” Then, turning back to me, he said, “If you’ll wait for just a few minutes, Tamir can get your prescription ready