by Kate Kinsley
Chapter Fifteen
Charity opened her eyes. The light made her head feel as if it would split in two. Little by little, her senses engaged. Beeping noises. Antiseptic smells. A pinch when she tried to move her hand.
She tried to shift her position, but everything felt sore. Her muscles wouldn’t allow her more than a few inches. Her back ached. She knew she must be in a hospital gown because the bedsheets felt stiff and scratchy against her back and rear end. She stole a downward glance and saw the IV in her hand.
“Hi.” Her eyes widened at the sound of Dave’s voice. The effort to speak took more energy than she possessed, but she could tell by the look in his eyes he knew that. “I’ll give you the cliff notes version. You fell. You hit the back of your head on the street. You have a concussion, a few stitches, and you’ve been having seizures.”
Seizures? Her eyes held questions and begged Dave for answers. The first one that pierced her thoughts was how seizures would affect her military status?”
As if reading her thoughts, Dave squeezed her hand. “The doctors have no way to predict if they’re temporary or permanent. Only time will tell.”
Her lids drifted down over her eyes. There was too much contemplation that accompanied that statement. What about the army? School? Her plans for her career? It hurt her head to think. Suddenly, the image of a five-pound ball of black fuzziness commanded her attention. She opened her eyes and locked them with Dave’s. “Snowflake?” Her voice sounded like a mix of crushed glass and gravel, and her cotton coated tongue made her feel nauseous.
“I have him.”
Relief eased the grip on her head, allowing her eyes to open further.
“I have him with me at my house.” He paused, then spoke softly. “I’ve had him for the past three weeks.”
Charity’s eyes widened. Three weeks? Had she been out for three weeks?
She lifted heavy arms and placed her hands on the bed’s side rails. She tried to sit up as she wrapped her fingers around the cold metal and pulled. She couldn’t lift her head. It felt like it was too heavy for her neck. The strain was too much, tightening already taxed muscles as she fought excruciating pain.
“Stop. It’s better if you rest.” Dave’s voice sounded with barely a trace of his usually rich baritone, and it betrayed a world full of concern in the tone. “You’ve had a traumatic brain injury. The doctors put you in a drug-induced coma. If you feel pressure, it’s because they had to remove a skull fragment to allow for the swelling. It’s down now, which is why you’re waking up. The drugs will keep you drowsy until they start to make their way out of your system.”
He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her skin. “I know you have questions and concerns, but before you waste precious energy worrying instead of healing, I need to tell you something. I love you. I have since I was sixteen years old. That kiss before you fell? I’d planned it to be the first of many. I don’t want you to worry about anything except getting well. Then, if you’ll let me, I’d like to help you figure everything out and offer help where I can. Will you let me do that?”
Charity’s sluggish mind wrapped itself around Dave’s words. Why didn’t she just admit it? She felt the same as he did. She loved him. Under different circumstances, she would have exerted her independence and summoned the strength to tell him she could take care of herself. But this accident changed everything, including timing. She didn’t have to convince herself that now was the time to lean on Dave because she’d always wanted to be the one by his side. She wanted to be that woman who’d share his ups and downs, joys and sorrows. She’d just wanted time for it to develop naturally—but time isn’t something life guarantees. If she was ever going to take a chance and trust Dave as a partner, now was the perfect time. As he searched her face for an answer, she slowly nodded.
He smiled and stood, leaning over the rail to place a gentle kiss on her cheek, sealing the agreement. As he went to take his seat, the fabric on his tee shirt moved up over his bicep, and Charity saw a mark. He pulled his chair as close to the bed as possible. She pointed her finger at his arm.
Frown lines furrowed his brow as he looked around to see what she wanted.
“Your arm. A tattoo?” Her voice was so low and weak. She wondered if he could hear her, but he nodded and pulled the sleeve up over his shoulder.
“I got it a year ago. No reason. I just liked it.”
He smiled as he turned to give her a better view. There she saw an entirely masculine, tribal style tattoo that covered the expanse of skin. It was, of all things, a snowflake.
That was all the confirmation she needed.
The End
Also By D.D. Lorenzo
No Perfect Man
No Perfect Time
No Perfect Couple
No Perfect Secret
No Perfect Bitch
Indiscretion
C-26
About D.D. Lorenzo
From childhood, author D.D. Lorenzo has sensed the emotional connections between family and friends. She wrote her first book when she was six years old, her gift of spinning stories from the heart continuing into adulthood.
With the encouragement of a few New York Times Bestselling Authors, she took a leap of faith and indie published. Readers frequently comment that her books evoke deep emotion, pulling the reader into the diverse worlds she creates. Her personal tastes are varied and eclectic, inviting you to converse with her about almost any topic. There are only two things she adamantly opposes: judgmental people and okra.
You can find D.D. on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, Goodreads, and at www.ddlorenzo.com
Gunnar
U.S. Marine Gunnar Lovett thinks attending the wedding of an old friend who’s marrying royalty will be nothing but a crazy weekend. He never expects her tattooed younger sister to come strutting up to him at the champagne fountain and practically seducing him on the dance floor.
Wild child Vivian has promised her mother she wouldn’t get into any trouble at her older sister’s royal wedding but she can’t resist the handsome Marine. Not only that, he seems to love Taco, the German Shepherd puppy who’s been driving the palace staff crazy.
When Gunnar’s PTSD comes back in a brutal way, can Taco save the weekend or is this relationship already doomed?
Chapter One
Vivian
There wasn’t much that made me cry, but watching one of my older sisters marrying a prince? Yeah, there was definitely something in my eye. Lennox looked beautiful up there, and that tiara on her head, well, that was the last thing I’d ever expected to see on my kickass, retired U.S. Marine, bodyguard sister. She looked stunning, and when she and her new husband, Prince Sandor Gustaffson, finally kissed, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
Jesus. I needed a drink.
After lots of fanfare, hugging and cheering, I finally escaped into the room where the reception was being held and went straight to the champagne fountain. I needed that drink sooner rather than later and I grabbed a glass from the top of the pyramid of champagne flutes that had been set up. My gut told me the stack of glasses would be too much temptation for guests once everyone had been drinking for a while, but I had to be on my best behavior tonight.
I’d promised my mom.
I was the black sheep of the family, flunking out of college twice with a stint in rehab in the middle. I was back in school now, looking to get some kind of degree, though I still had no idea in what. Luckily, my newest stepfather was pretty great and didn’t seem to mind paying for me to take a million classes while I figured it out.
“How long do you think this pretty tower of champagne flutes is going to last once everyone is shit-faced?” a deep voice asked behind me.
I chuckled before I even saw who it was since I’d had the same thought. “I give it an hour after dinner,” I said, turning.
Holy green-eyed hotness.
Where had this hunka-hunka-burning-love come from? I hadn’t noticed him at any of the pre-
wedding festivities or at the ceremony, but he had my attention now. Lennox and Sandor had a lot of hot friends, but mostly they were either too old, too taken, or too not my type. This guy, well, from his too-long-for-a-man eyelashes to the tats crawling up his neck, to shoulders broader than a Mack truck, he was definitely my type. No wedding ring, either.
Was this my lucky night or what?
When he grinned at me, revealing two of the cutest dimples I’d ever imagined licking, I couldn’t help but grin back.
“Bride or groom?” he asked me.
“Bride. You?”
“Bride.” He cocked his head. “I’m guessing you’re too young to have been in the military with her, but you were in the wedding party, so…”
I smiled. “I’m her youngest sister. Lennox is the oldest, then Harlow, then me.”
“I’m Gunnar.”
“Vivian.”
He gave me a lazy smile that kicked my libido into overdrive. God, he was beautiful.
“So how do you know Lennox?” I asked. “Did you serve with her?”
He nodded. “We were in Iraq together for about six months and she spent a lot of time with me when I was at Walter Reed.”
I frowned. “Walter Reed?”
“Military hospital. I was hurt.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure if I should ask, but I didn’t have time to think about it because Harlow linked her arm through mine.
“Lennox wants more pictures.”
I rolled my eyes. “We took seven thousand pictures before the ceremony. How many more can we possibly take?”
“As many as she wants,” Harlow said firmly. “She’s the bride.”
“Fine.” I wasn’t actually annoyed because I was happy for Lennox. Her new husband was hot, rich and nice to me. He also made her happy, which I’d never thought I’d see with my tomboy of a sister.
“I’ll see you later, Gunnar,” I said with a smile, glancing over my shoulder as Harlow tugged me in the opposite direction.
“Bye, Vivian.” He winked and my lady parts nearly melted.
Sandor had pulled out all the stops for his and Lennox’s wedding, and though neither of them planned to live a royal lifestyle, this event had been important to the people of Sandor’s country. Limaj was a small, eastern European country that bordered Turkey, Georgia and the Middle East. After ten years of a tyrant ruling Limaj, Sandor’s cousin Erik had taken the throne and they were trying to affect change for the people.
I’d seen a lot of interesting things since I’d been here in Limaj, and getting to stay in the palace had been one of my favorites. I’d explored every inch of the areas I had access to, and it was fascinating. A wonderful combination of old and new. It was an old building with many of the original elements, but of course it had been updated over the years with things like central heat and air, heated swimming pools and Wi-Fi. If I was honest, I was a little jealous of Lennox getting to live here.
She and Sandor were both part of an elite group called the Royal Protectors. They were special bodyguards to the royal family who pledged an oath to the king. Sandor was King Erik’s first cousin and also a prince, and while I didn’t understand how it all worked, I knew Lennox was proud to be a Royal Protector and had every intention of continuing to work now that she was married.
We took another thousand pictures and I smiled until my face nearly cracked.
“Hey, Len,” I whispered to her when the photographer snapped a few of just Sandor with his side of the family. “Who’s Gunnar and is he single?”
She arched her brows. “Gunnar Lovett? I don’t know for sure if he’s single, but he could have brought a plus-one to the wedding and he didn’t, so I think it’s a safe bet.”
“He’s…” My voice trailed off and I fanned myself.
“Yes, he is, but be careful. He’s probably a lifer when it comes to the military and I think he has a rotating door of women in his life.”
“Well, with those green eyes? Who could blame them?” I nudged her. “We’re not all ready to settle down with Prince Charming.”
Lennox glanced over at her new husband with a mischievous grin. “He has a brother, though.”
I grimaced. “Jesus, he’s like forty. I’m not marrying my dad.”
She nudged me back. “He’s thirty-six or thirty-seven. Geez. But don’t tell me he’s not hot.”
I looked over to where Sandor and Daniil were messing around, taking some playful pictures. “Okay, I’ll give you hot. Still too old, but hot.”
Lennox just laughed.
“So, are we done? Can I go back to the party?”
“Of course.”
I was just about to make my escape when one of the staff came up to me, whispering, “Miss Vivian…the puppy.”
I turned in frustration. “What’s wrong? Is he okay?”
“He won’t stop barking.”
I sighed. “All right. Show me where he is.”
I’d brought my new German shepherd puppy with me since I couldn’t leave him alone and I’d felt weird boarding a puppy I’d just gotten. Everyone had tried to talk me out of adopting him, but he’d been abandoned to a shelter that was going to euthanize him and I’d fallen in love. So Taco had come home with me and made me crazy on a regular basis. King Erik had sent a private jet to pick up most of us coming to the wedding from the U.S., so I’d been able to bring Taco with me, but he’d been getting into more mischief than I had time for. Lennox had found someone to watch him during the wedding, but apparently, they couldn’t handle it.
I turned and headed towards the elevators, lifting my gown as I walked.
Hopefully, this would be quick.
Chapter Two
Gunnar
I watched the cute, tattooed brunette walk towards the elevators holding up the skirt of the sexy sky-blue dress she wore. She’d said she was Lennox’s sister, but they didn’t look much alike other than the dark hair, and I wandered over to the newlyweds to congratulate them.
“Hey, Gunnar.” Lennox gave me a hug.
“Hey.” I grinned. “You look beautiful. Congratulations to you both.” I shook Sandor’s hand.
“Are you having fun?” Lennox asked.
“It’s been a great weekend so far,” I replied. “You throw a hell of an event.”
“I had nothing to do with it,” she said, linking her arm through Sandor’s. “I bought my dress, picked bridesmaids dresses and the cake. That’s it.”
“You chose the music,” Sandor told her as he leaned in to kiss the side of her face.
I shook my head, happy for my friend but curious enough about her sister to want to ask. “So why did I think your sisters were still kids?” I asked her.
She cocked her head. “I don’t know. Which one are you interested in?”
“The one with the tattoos. Duh.”
“Funny, she just asked me if you were single.” She poked a finger in my chest. “Vivian is a grown woman but she’s finally gotten her life together—do not fuck with her head.”
I grinned. “It’s not her head I’m interested in.”
“Behave, Gunnar.” Lennox gave me a look that indicated she was serious.
“So she’s off-limits?” I asked, meeting her gaze directly. Lennox was a good friend, and I wouldn’t do anything to fuck that up, but it didn’t seem fair that I couldn’t enjoy the company of an attractive woman who was just my type but happened to also be her sister.
“Like I said, she’s an adult, it’s none of my business. Just don’t be a jerk.”
“I’m never a jerk.” I leaned over, kissed her cheek and went back to the party.
I wondered where Vivian had gone and hoped she was coming back. There were lots of beautiful people here, but none quite like her. This was the wedding of a prince, after all, and there were all kinds of faces I’d only ever seen on television before, but that wasn’t my scene these days. Sure, I could hook up with some untethered princess that would put a hell of a notch on my bedpost, but I wasn’t reall
y into that anymore.
Not that I was looking to settle down, but it might be nice to sleep with the same woman more than once, and my gut told me there was more to Vivian than tattoos and a naughty grin.
I’d all but given up on finding her when a flash of red caught my eye.
Holy shitballs.
She’d changed out of the billowy blue bridesmaid dress and into…whatever this was. It was basically a speck of red, silky fabric that covered the essentials but not much else. Tiny spaghetti straps held it up and the slit all the way up one thigh revealed a slender leg covered in tattoos. She had them on one shoulder and upper arm as well, and I could just imagine peeling off that scrap of red fabric to discover all of them.
She met my gaze from across the room and for a moment neither of us moved. Her eyes were light, maybe blue or gray, and her short hair moved as she did. It fell to just above her shoulders in a kind of unkempt bob, falling in little spikes instead of a straight line, and it was sexy as fuck.
Our gazes remained locked as she slowly made her way towards me, and my cock twitched behind the slacks of my rented tuxedo. I didn’t normally wear them, and I certainly didn’t own one, but Lennox had said the event was black-tie, so I’d splurged. Now I was kind of glad because Vivian was drinking me in like I was a tall glass of water, and I liked a woman who not only knew what she wanted but went after it as well.
“Wow,” I said as she approached. “The other dress was pretty, but this…well, wow.”
She smiled. “My mother is going to have a heart attack, but my puppy just peed all over the other dress.”
I grimaced. “Yikes.” Then it hit me. “Wait, you brought your puppy to the wedding?”