Three Scars:Betrayed by the Don
The scent of antiseptic on me seemed to calm it.
I expertly soothed the dog, snipped the fur around the wound, cleaned it, sutured it, and bandaged it.
"There, all better," I said, stroking the Doberman's head. It licked my hand gently.
"Looks like Zeus likes you. That's a first."
A deep, magnetic male voice came from the doorway.
I stood up and saw a tall man.
He wore a dark grey trench coat, his shoulders damp with rain. He had messy brown curls, and his features were strong and handsome, but his most striking feature was his eyes—as green as an Irish forest after a storm.