by J. S. Scott
Slowly disentangling their entwined fingers, she stroked his hair back, enjoying the texture of the thick, disheveled strands between her fingers.
Had he been here all night? Had he ever left the hospital?
He was dressed in a pair of light blue hospital scrubs, a sure sign that her memory of tossing her cookies down the front of what was probably a very expensive sweater was probably accurate.
I love you.
The recollection that she had spoken those words between retching violently and feeling like she was about to die made her hand stop pawing his hair and her body tense with trepidation.
Oh God, did I really say those words to him?
Yeah, she had said them-the memory flashed vividly in her mind. Knowing that she had babbled that particular phrase to him, she pulled her hand completely away, wondering how he had taken those words, or if he had even really heard them. At the time, she had been desperate to say them, to let him know how she felt in case she didn’t make it through the night. With no idea what her injuries actually were, she hadn’t hesitated to say them, didn’t want something to happen without him knowing how much she cared.
Now that she knew that she was obviously going to live, she wasn’t so sure that she should have confessed, bared her soul.
“Kara!” Simon shot up into a sitting position, his hand reaching reflexively for hers, twining their fingers back together. He was instantly awake, his eyes jerking to her face, scanning it with obvious unease. “You’re awake.”
Her throat was dry; her tongue felt like it was swollen enough to take up the entire space of her oral cavity. She reached for a cup of water from the bedside table. Simon sprang from his chair, reaching it first, unwrapping a straw and placing it into the plastic cup, before directing it to her mouth. She took slow sips, her hand covering his as she let the moisture slide over her tongue. “Where am I?” she asked quietly, licking the moisture from her lips.
He told her what hospital was she in and explained that her CT scan was normal, but that they were keeping her overnight for observation. “You have several stitches from a cut on your forehead. From what Sam told me, you’re damn lucky they didn’t crack your skull.” Simon’s voice was rough and slightly irritated.
“I have a hard head,” she answered lightly, remembering the force of the blows, amazed that she had suffered nothing more than a few stitches and a hammering headache.
He shot her an aggravated look. “Like I haven’t noticed?” Setting the glass down on the bedside table, his eyes locked with hers, staring intently, his gaze like liquid fire. “You’re never leaving me again. Ever.”
Her breath hitched as she looked at him, fascinated, unable to break the compelling, silent communication. “Forever is a long time,” she answered, unable to come up with a more intelligent response while his eyes were shooting volatile sparks, a clear warning he was about to get stubborn.
“I don’t give a fuck. You’re going back home with me, and I’m not leaving your safety in the hands of a few green security agents. If Sam hadn’t been there...”
“He saved my life, Simon. Your brother risked his life for me,” she murmured, silently thanking Sam for being there, for getting to her before those men had gotten her into the car.
I’d be dead if he hadn’t.
Running a frustrated hand through his already-tortured hair, he growled, “He damn well should have seen you home. And the security guys were inexperienced. They should have been tailing you so close that they could hear you breathe. Their reaction time was unacceptable.”
“I left. I didn’t give Sam a chance to offer to take me home. He was asking questions about Maddie and I wanted to leave. And the agents got there fast. These guys were quick. It all happened in seconds.” Even though it seemed like hours.
“Sam shouldn’t have been there at all. You would have been home and safe,” he rumbled, his chest vibrating with emotion.
She squeezed his hand. “You don’t know that. They might have gotten to me anyway. It would have been worse if Sam hadn’t been there. Please don’t blame Sam or the agents. I’m grateful to all of them.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re coming home with me tomorrow. And you’ll have better security than the president of the United States. Even Maddie agrees that you’re safer at the condo. Although I’m not sure she’s thrilled about you being in such close proximity to any Hudson.” He sat back down in the chair without releasing his powerful grip on her hand or softening his intense, relentless stare.
“Maddie was here?” she asked curiously, wondering how her friend even knew that she had been injured.
“She just left an hour or two ago. I called her. She was here all evening. You don’t remember?”
She shook her head. “Everything that happened after the actual attack is just snippets of memory. Did I really vomit on you?”
“You remember that?” He searched her face, looking for something, as though he were trying to figure out what she did and didn’t remember. “Maddie found me a pair of scrubs and a shower after you got settled in a room.”
“Oh God. I’m sorry.” Was there anything more mortifying than puking all over a man like Simon Hudson?
“Why? You didn’t do it on purpose. And I was actually relieved that you were awake.”
Kara found it pretty damn amazing that a man had actually stood beside her, holding an emesis basin while she heaved, without being completely grossed out. “Is Sam all right?”
“Fine.” He barked a short, humorless laugh. “Except for the fact that he had to be in the same room with Maddie Reynolds. Sam looked uncomfortable as hell and Maddie looked like she wanted to kill him, slowly and painfully.”
“I wish I knew what happened between them,” she breathed wistfully, wincing as the squeezing sensation in her head increased in intensity, beginning to feel as if she had a huge boa constrictor wrapped around her head.
Simon frowned. “You want some pain medication? I can call the nurse.” He reached for the call button.
“No. Wait.” She took a deep breath, knowing she had to set Simon straight. Going back to the condo with him wasn’t an option. “I can’t go home with you, Simon. I’ll go back to Maddie’s. I’ll be fine. They caught one guy and the other one is probably running scared. I doubt his main concern is to come after me.”
His body tensed, the pressure on her hand increasing as his fingers clenched and released, his eyes shooting her a dangerous glance. “The matter isn’t up for debate. You. Are. Coming. With. Me,” he answered with a growl.
She released a frustrated breath. “You aren’t my keeper. I don’t need one. I’ve been alone for a long time.” And lonely, missing Simon, although she hadn’t known who she was missing at the time.
The pain was horrific when I was away from him. I can’t go through another goodbye later. Spending any more time with him is dangerous. It will just hurt twice as much to part from him after spending more time with him, making more memories to torture myself with when I’m alone again.
“Yeah...well...get used to having company, sweetheart,” he snorted, his eyes gleaming with possession, his expression raw and feral. “As long as you’re in danger, I won’t be very far away. And you won’t be without protection.”
She shuddered, trying to pull her hand from his fierce grip. He wasn’t hurting her and his grasp wasn’t tight enough to make her uncomfortable. It was actually just the opposite. Simon made her feel safe, and that terrified her. There was no possible way she could let herself get used to being treated like she was actually a woman he cherished. “You can’t tell me what to do. We’ve only known each other for a handful of weeks. Why are you concerning yourself about my safety?” Her voice was rough, emotional, and probably slightly panicky. She needed to distance herself, but it was difficult. Needy and raw after her experience the night before, she wanted nothing more than to th
row herself into Simon’s arms and let him hold her there, safe in his warm masculine embrace until she recovered her equilibrium.
“Your safety has been my concern for over a fucking year!” he blasted back at her, his voice low and husky. “And there hasn’t been a day that has passed in all that time when I haven’t been completely obsessed with whether or not you were safe.”
“But we just met a few weeks ago...” Her voice was barely audible, confused.
He blew out an uneven breath, his face ravaged with uncertainty as he looked away, staring blankly at the sterile, white wall in front of him. “Mom talked about you all the time. She pointed you out to me over a year ago while you were serving in the restaurant.” He sighed, as though resigned to completing his explanation. “I can’t really explain it because I don’t understand it myself, but from that moment on, I felt compelled to look out for you. Fuck, I even followed you home every night just to make sure you got to your apartment safely.”
Stunned, she asked in a hesitant voice, “Like I was your friend because I was a friend of your mother’s?”
He turned his head and gave her heated, masculine look. “No. Like a goddamn obsession that I couldn’t control. Like you’re mine to protect.” He hit her with his I-want-to-fuck-you-until-you-scream stare, the heat rolling from him in waves.
Should it bother her that Simon had been watching her, following her like a pseudo stalker? Maybe it should, but it didn’t. Instead, she felt eerily calm, her heart melting inside her chest as she watched his tortured expression. He had stayed in the background, silently watching over her like a dark guardian angel, never expecting anything in return. Thinking back on her conversation with Helen at the restaurant, she was relieved to see that Simon’s protective, rescuer instincts were still intact. “Why me? There must be tons of women who could use your protection.”
Simon shrugged, but the intense look on his face was far from nonchalant. “I have no idea. You’re the only woman who’s ever made me feel this way.” He choked out the last few words, obviously damn unhappy about his inability to control his actions.
She shook her head gently, still trying to come to terms with the fact that Simon had been trying to protect her for the last year. Really, what sort of guy did something like that? What gorgeous billionaire took the time to check on the safety of a nobody, a woman who kept a low profile, a woman who should have been far beneath his notice? She didn’t think herself beneath anyone simply because she was poor...but reality was reality. Men of Simon’s status simply didn’t notice women like her. They were too busy accumulating more wealth, being king of their empires. “Looking out for me because I was your mother’s friend was very kind of you. But you can’t protect me forever.”
He got up from his chair slowly and seated himself gently on the bed, facing her. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not the least bit kind.” His words belied his actions as he carefully tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his index finger trailing lightly over her temple and stroking over her cheek, as soft as a feather. “My behavior wasn’t magnanimous or unselfish. I wanted to fuck you. I think that’s a pretty damn self-serving motivation.” His tone was dry, self-mocking.
She bit back a smile, wondering why he always had such an aversion to someone calling him kind. “If that was your motive, then why didn’t you? You could have made your presence known, asked your mom to introduce us. I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m attracted to you.” More than attracted.
He jerked his hand away from her face, averting his eyes. “I forgot about your pain medication. I’m sure you’re hurting.” He slapped the call button for the nurse.
A response came immediately from the small speaker attached to the call button. “Can I help you?” The voice sounded young and female.
“Ms. Foster needs some pain medication.” Simon’s answer was abrupt; he came to his feet as he spat out the order.
“Someone will be right there,” the faceless voice answered as the call light went from red to black.
Kara’s head was still spinning from his brusque dismissal-or was it avoidance?-of her question. She tipped her head back to look at his face. He was scowling down at her, his face implacable.
Crossing her arms in front of her, she met his ferocious look with a small smile. “That tactic won’t work on me anymore,” she told him quietly.
“What tactic?” he rumbled, his arms crossing just like hers, challenging her, his expression unreadable.
“The one where I’m supposed to feel like I’m Little Red Riding Hood and you’re the big, bad wolf.” She lifted an eyebrow, refusing to look away from his disgruntled face. Simon Hudson could scowl, growl, and snarl all he wanted to, but she had his number. Somewhere beneath his gruff, bossy exterior, there was a layer of compassion and benevolence that he would probably never show to the world. But she saw it; she recognized it. If he had really just wanted to screw her, he could have come forward, met her in person. It would have saved him valuable time.
He leaned down slowly, so slowly that her breath seized, as those molten dark eyes glinted with tiny flames and focused intently on her, making her want to squirm. Her body quivered, the waves of intense masculinity that were pulsating around her making her body react. His mouth lowered to her ear, the heat of his breath heavy against her neck and the side of her face. “Don’t be so sure that I’m not the big, bad wolf, little girl. I’d gobble you up in a heartbeat.” His low, menacing voice sent a shiver down her spine, but not from fear. Longing slammed into her body with hurricane force.
Her pent-up breath escaped in a tremulous sigh as the nurse entered the room, forcing Simon to straighten up and move away from the bed. The efficient, middle-aged woman gave Kara her medication and took her vital signs. After doing a quick assessment, the woman left, only after asking if there was anything else Kara needed and getting a negative reply.
“I’m surprised that I don’t have a roommate,” she muttered quietly after her nurse had departed. “This hospital is usually pretty busy.” She had done clinicals at the facility and at this time of year, the rooms were generally filled as soon as they were vacated.
Simon flipped his chair around and sat in it backwards, his forearms resting casually along the wooden back. For the first time since she’d opened her eyes, he grinned.
“There are some benefits to being a billionaire who just happens to be a generous donor to medical charities.” The chair was close to the bed, his teasing eyes close enough to be visible in the muted light.
“So you asked for a private room because you donate?” Her lips twitched, but she tried to make her voice admonishing.
He shrugged. “Not me. Sam took care of it while I was taking a shower. And I doubt he asked.”
She rolled her eyes, positive that Sam Hudson rarely asked for anything. He demanded, expecting people to do as he commanded. However, just like Simon, Sam hid a tender heart under layers of ice.
Her eyes grew heavy as the powerful medication started to kick in. Yawning, she felt Simon’s hand clasp hers, his thumb running loosely up and down her palm. “Pain medication. I’m not used to it,” she murmured, suddenly feeling exhausted.
“Sleep. I’ll be here,” he replied in a husky, concerned voice.
“You should go home and sleep. You’ve been here all night. I’m fine.”
“I’m not leaving until you can come home with me,” he answered, his tone adamant and inflexible.
“Not coming home with you,” she grumbled as her eyelids fluttered.
“We’ll see. Just sleep.” His tone was soothing, pacifying.
And she wasn’t fooled for one single second. He’d try to bulldoze over her later.
Not having the strength or the desire to fight with him at that moment, she slept.
Later that morning, Simon tapped every resource he had to convince her that going home with him was the best
option.
She received visits from Maddie, Helen, Sam, her attending physician, and Detective Harris, each person stressing the importance of her being in a safe environment, and naming Simon’s condo as the most secure place for her to stay. Maddie gave her the advice grudgingly, obviously not very keen on the idea, but trying to consider the best option for Kara’s safety.
Wonder how much he had to bully Detective Harris and her attending physician to get them to agree that his home was the safest?
Privately, Simon told her if she didn’t intend to go with him, he’d throw her over his shoulder and drag her back to his condo, kicking and screaming if necessary.
It wasn’t his threat or the fact that she really had nowhere else to go that convinced her to get into the Mercedes and let James drive them home to the condo. In the end...it was the exhausted, wild, frantic look in his eyes while he made the demand that swayed her.
Honestly, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days: his five o’clock shadow dark, his handsome face marked heavily with stress and weariness.
He’s scared. Worried about me.
Her chest aching with tenderness, unable to let him go on freaking out about her, she caved in and let him take her home.
She’d worry about her additional pain later, when it came time to leave again. For now, she wanted Simon to relax, sleep, and eat.
Screw her fears of hurting later. The look of despair on Simon’s face hurt more than any pain she would suffer in the future.
I’ll just have to suck it up!
Really, what other option did she have? She could watch Simon suffer, or she could worry about the pain later.
She chose the second option, the relieved look on his face worth every bit of hurt she would suffer in the future.
A few nights later found Simon tossing and turning in his massive bed, unable to sleep. Rolling onto his back, frustrated and pissed-off, he stared up at the ceiling, his eyes wide open when they should be closed, catching up on lost sleep. Shit! He hadn’t slept more than a few hours every night since the evening that Kara had left him. Now that she was back, he was still restless.