Free Opal's Wish: Book Four of The Crystal Warriors Series by Maree Anderson Page A

scary when doctors are ’xamining you and stuff.”
    “Sure thing, Sera.” To his credit, Roth didn’t crack a joke about Danbur about needing a kid to hold his hand. Apparently Roth had a well honed sense of self-preservation.
    Danbur stood and stretched the kinks from his back and shoulders—a procedure that revealed a strip of defined abs that would be the envy of any gym junkie, and that made Opal inhale her coffee. Desiree seemed to be smothering laughter as she helpfully whacked Opal’s back. “You and me both, girlfriend,” she muttered, and not-so-surreptitiously fanned her face.
    When Danbur sat on the couch, Sera climbed up next to him and slipped her hand into his curled palm. She observed the proceedings with scared, saucer-like eyes. She’d obviously picked up on the possibility he might have something seriously wrong with him. Poor kid.
    Opal did her level best to divide her attention between the three of them. Every time Roth frowned, her stomach plummeted to her toes. Then, inevitably, her gaze would drift to Danbur’s face and she would find herself wondering how such full lips could be so damned masculine they made her toes curl. Cue jerking her gaze to Sera, instead, and worrying over the absorbed expression on her daughter’s face as Sera stared up at Danbur—like he was her whole world.
    Opal could have felt jealous at that worshipful regard; she had, after all, been Sera’s whole world for almost nine years. But all she felt was sadness and intense regret. She’d given Sera everything she had to give. She’d told herself it was enough, believed
she
was enough. But she wasn’t. Sera needed a father-figure—that was painfully obvious given the way she’d bonded with Danbur in such a short time.
    And Danbur? He looked like there was something missing in his life, too. And that something was—
    Sera.
    Opal blinked and mentally shook herself. No way was she standing by while some “handsome asshole”, who’d forced his way into their lives, formed an unnatural attachment to her daughter.
    She fixed her attention on Roth again, willing him to hurry through the examination. The sooner Danbur got the all clear, the sooner she could boot his handsome ass out of her house. Meaning Sera would be safe from his influence, and Opal would be able to rid herself of these ridiculous and wholly inappropriate feelings for a stranger who’d made it brutally clear he didn’t think much of her.
    Roth hung his stethoscope around his neck and tugged on the ends. “You appear to be healthy as a horse, Danbur. But I’d recommend you get to a clinic and get some scans done—just to be sure.”
    “If this
clinick
is a place where Healers congregate to prod and poke patients and make their lives a misery, then I think not.”
    Curiosity flit across Roth’s face but he didn’t launch an inquiry into Danbur’s origins. Sensible. Because apparently Danbur wasn’t a fan of personal questions.
    “Passing out cold isn’t something to be taken lightly,” Roth said, “especially in light of the headaches prior to losing consciousness. In my professional opinion—”
    “I respect your professional opinion greatly, Healer. But further investigation into my health is not an option open to me at this time.”
    The two men locked gazes but it was Roth who backed down. “Okay, then. I guess my job here is done.” He packed up his gear and sauntered over to introduce himself. “Roth Morgan.”
    Opal shook his proffered hand. “O-O-Opal S-S-Stewart.” She waited for the inevitable barrage of well-meaning advice about managing her stutter but he only smiled. Points to him. She managed a wan smile in return.
    “Thanks for making a house call, Roth,” Desiree said. “What do I owe you?”
    Opal mentally tallied the meager contents of her purse and hoped he’d accept a check. But before she could speak up, Roth drawled, “Dinner. This coming Friday.”
    “I’m busy,” Desiree said.
    “Saturday,