Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
The man's smile grows a little, though he doesn't ease his death grip on my fingers. "I won't know what to look at first. When I get my new eyes, that is."
"That's easy," I tease. "You can look at me. Remember? I'm beautiful, according to Zakoar, and we both know he's never wrong."
His smile grows broader. "I'd like that. You'll be there when I wake up?"
"Absolutely," I reassure him with another squeeze of his hand. "After all, you'll need something good to look at to ensure the eyes are working properly." I'm just teasing, but he seems utterly delighted—and at ease—with my bold statements. I glance over at Zakoar, and he's watching us, a hint of a smile on that hard, unique mouth of his.
16
ZAKOAR
True to her word, Tessa is quiet and unobtrusive as I work. Prosthetic eyes are a common enough implant, but one that requires a lot of concentration, and I'm focused far more on my work than on my female for a time. She remains out of the way, but whenever I pause to take a break, I notice a glass of water waiting for me, or a hot cup of tea, as if she's thinking about my comfort even as I work on my client.
I rather like her being around, which surprises me. I never let Tikosa in my office when I work, because I find his presence obtrusive. But Tessa doesn't interrupt me, doesn't pepper me with questions, and she doesn't try to “help” out and invariably slow me down. She's just a quiet, easy presence who gives me an encouraging smile when I push the release on the med-tube and start to shut things down. I'm tired, my head aching from the intense focus of the last few hours. I want to take a hot shower and mate with Tessa…or simply curl up on the bed and watch a vid with her tucked against my side. I want to ask her what she thought of my work, and to see if she's bored. I want to know if she's interested in learning about how to do what I do—
Oh, who am I keffing kidding? I don't care about any of that. I just want to pull her close and talk to her. I'm addicted to her, and it feels as if it's been days since we've touched. I want to haul her against me and see if she'll kiss my ugly mouth again, because I'm a keffing greedy fool when it comes to her.
To my surprise, she jumps to her feet the moment I release the med-tube and moves toward it. She watches as the sleeping agent drains away from my patient, an intent expression on her face. "I promised him I'd be the first thing he saw with his new eyes," she tells me, an impish look on her face. "He was a little nervous."
She has a kind heart, this human. I nod, and when she takes the male's hand, I try not to get jealous. She looks upon him like she would a grandparent, not a lover. And I'm not…keeping her. I'm not.
The male on the table stirs, the restraints retracting back with a slithering sound. I move next to him, peeling the last of the healing bandages off of his eyes. They've been covered for the last hour, accelerating the rejuvenation process, and now's the time to see if my handiwork will pay off. It will. It always does. I just like seeing the customer pleased with my work. I like seeing that first spark of hope in someone's gaze when they realize what I've done for them. That they're no longer constrained by limits imposed on their bodies by something that wasn't working as it should.
I know how invigorating that feels. How it seems as if suddenly, anything is possible. Maybe that's why I like this moment in the process best. It's not the credit (though that certainly is welcome). It's seeing that restored light in someone's eyes. "Tell me what you see," I say calmly as the male stirs. "And if there's any pain."
"We're right here with you," Tessa says in a gentle, caring voice. She squeezes the male's hand and I realize he's holding tightly to hers. "Take as long as you need to open your eyes. We don't want you to feel uncomfortable."
I glance over at her, amused that she's contradicting me. I'm not normally gentle with my clients. I don't want their names. I don't want them lingering. I just want to do what they've asked and send them on their way. But as the elderly male holds onto Tessa's hand tightly, I can see the advantages of having a caring, gentle assistant at my side to provide the warmth that I don't.
Not that she's staying, of course. She's going to Risda.