Chapter Six
With eyelids like dirty sandpaper, I tried to blink some moisture into my dry eyes. My throat hurt, my nose itched, and my whole body felt like a lead pipe had been taken to it with no mercy. Thirst clawed at my insides, demanding immediate slaking.
I tried to speak, but my lips barely moved. I heard a motion to the side of me. With great care and effort, I turned my head to the sound. “Nicholas!” Though I’d tried to call out, it came out as a croak.
Nevertheless, he swirled to face me and ran to my bed. “You’re awake. Thank God. Don’t scare me like that ever again.”
“What.” I tried to swallow, but too dry.
“Water?” He grabbed a large pink pitcher with a straw in it off the hospital tray and held the straw to my lips.
I took it gratefully and drank. He pulled the life-giving sustenance away much too soon.
“The nurse said you could have small amounts at a time, but not to overdo it. I’ll give you more in a minute.”
I nodded to show I understood then tried again. “What happened?”
“What do you remember last,” he said, evading my question.
“Kim tackled me over the desk, and you swooped in like an avenging angel.” My speech was slow and halting, but he just held my hand as I spoke. “My hero,” I added.
He brought my hand up to his face and rubbed it along his stubbled cheek then kissed my knuckles. “You have a broken arm. It’s required multiple surgeries. I’ll let the doctor explain how badly fractured it was. Your back is badly bruised from how you fell on the screen’s base. It’s… Also, the break severed the main artery in your arm, and you’d lost a lot of blood by the time the police secured the scene and allowed the EMTs to come get you.”
I stared at his face as he spoke, wonder hitting me. He’d spoken the words once in the heat of sex, but this was… He loved me, like deeply, beyond the physical. That’s the only thing that made sense of the disheveled appearance, the five o’clock stubble above the line of his usually neatly trimmed beard, wrinkled clothes, the strain in his voice, the new lines on his forehead.
Then it hit me. The stubble was darker and thicker than I’d ever seen it. “How long was my surgery?”
“They…it took a lot longer than they’d expected. You’ve had multiple surgeries and a blood transfusion.”
His evasion did not help me feel any better. “How long?”
He sank down on the bed next to me, then leaned over and rested his forehead on mine. “Forever,” he said fervently. “And nobody would tell me anything for the longest time. The police finally convinced them that I had saved you from the woman who injured you, so they let me in. Plus, your aunt vouched for me. I didn’t know she knew me.”
“I have told one of my aunts about you. I’d wanted to share it with someone in my family, and she’d happened to message me on one of my days off on that paid vacation.”
“I’m glad you did. I don’t know what I’d done if they’d not let me stay.”
I smiled, or rather tried to. “You’d have found a way,” I said, feeling slightly better since having water. “I take it you don’t know the time.”
“I don’t remember. I’ve never been so scared in my life. You passed out with blood pooling around you. Don’t ever do that to me again. That’s an order.”
A dry laugh croaked out. “I’ll make an effort.”
“You’d better.”
After a few minutes of him hugging me, followed by a long time of nurses and doctors and meds, we finally had a chance to speak again. He caught me up on Kim’s situation—in jail, no one posting her bail—and told me that the private security firm he’d hired had found three more people involved. My heart broke for him. His own business. I knew him well enough that he’d take this personally and try to find a way to eliminate the possibility of it happening again.
I patted the bed beside me, scooting over to give him more room.
“Fiona,” he said, taking my hand in his.
“Yes?”
“Move in with me. I have a place big enough. I can have you cared for round the clock until you’ve regained use of your arm.”
I raised my brows at him. “I have one question. Think carefully before you answer.”
He nodded and squeezed my hand tighter. “Are you just doing this because you feel guilty? Because of pity? Okay, make that two questions.”
He paled. “No. I do feel guilty that I didn’t protect you more. I was trying to give you your space and respect your wish to be back at work. I should have insisted that you moved in me as soon as it became apparent the lengths they would go through in order to protect their interests. I should have kept you in my office and put a guard on you. I should have—”
“Shhh,” I said. “You couldn’t have known this would happen. It’s a freak accident. If she hadn’t hit me just right, I wouldn’t have gone over like I did, which is how I broke my arm so badly.”
He nodded but still stared at me, waiting for an answer, I think.
“Wait, you wanted me to move in with you before?” My mind spun at the implications.
“After our weekend at the ocean,” he confirmed. “I love you, but I didn’t want to scare you off by forcing too much of a commitment that soon. So, what’s your answer?”
I grinned. Maybe the meds the nurse gave me were kicking in, maybe I was just crazy. “Yes, I will.”
He leaned over and kissed me, and I poured all the love I felt into it. My future had just become brighter than I could have imagined.