“It’s almost time for your next CT scan.”
“Nice try. What’s wrong, Declan?”
He closes his eyes and rests his head against the back of the chair. “Nothing’s wrong, lass.”
“Then why are you hiding from me?”
“I’m not hiding from you. I’m sitting three feet away.”
“Don’t be a jackass. You know what I’m saying.”
He sighs heavily. “I never know what you’re saying. All I hear is an awful noise that does my head in.”
Worried, I stare at him. Though he won’t admit it, I know something’s wrong. He seems different. Depressed. Not his usual hair-trigger-temper, rigged-to-explode self.
“How long have you been sitting there?”
“Dunno. A few hours.”
“Were you able to sleep at all?”
“No.”
“Do you want to switch?” When he cracks open an eye to look at me questioningly, I point to the bed. “I can take the chair for a while if you’d like to get some rest.”
He opens the other eye and lifts his head. Now I’ve got two icy blue orbs glaring at me with piercing animosity.
Bizarrely, that makes me feel better. I smile. “Ah, look. The charmer has returned. Is it hard, living with all those different mean personalities in one body? Must get tense in there. Like an overcrowded prison.”
“Why the bloody hell are you worried about me? I’m your kidnapper.”
He seems really invested in the answer, so I think about it for a moment while he busies himself with trying to burn my face off with his stare. “Hmm. It’s not because I like you, because we’ve already established I don’t.”
He reminds me scathingly, “The feeling is mutual.”
“Exactly. How could you like someone who looks like a camel and smells like regurgitated grass? Unless you’re one of those weirdos who are into animals. You know. Sexually.”
I send him a look that implies I wouldn’t put bestiality past him. He sends me a look back that could liquefy steel.
“Listen, if it makes you feel better, let’s just say I worry about you because it’s in my best interest. If you die of a heart attack or take a bullet or whatever, what’s going to happen to me?”
Without missing a beat, he says sourly, “You’d take over my position, no doubt. Wouldn’t be hard, considering you’ve already recruited half my army to join your ranks.”
“Oh, come on. Kieran and Spider can’t be half your army.”
“No, but there are three more men posted outside that door who mysteriously joined your fan club in my absence. I’m sure it would be easy for you to convert the rest.”
“What do you mean?”
“Something about a moving little speech you made regarding Irish gangsters being better than Russian ones? And an emotional hug for Kieran?”
I say sheepishly, “Oh. That.”
“Aye. That. They found it quite captivating. They’re also impressed with how you’re handling the whole situation.”
“By situation, are you referring to my brain clot or you?”
“I’m not a situation.”
I laugh at that. “Believe me, gangster, you’re a situation with a capital S. You could turn Gandhi into a serial killer.”
He gazes at me for a moment, then his voice comes warm and low. “As could you, lass. As could you.”
“Look at us, finding so much in common. Pretty soon we’ll have something to talk about other than your inexplicable mood changes.”
A muscle flexes in his jaw. I can tell he’s fighting hard not to smile, and chide, “C’mon, show me those pearly whites. They’re literally the only good thing about your face.”
“God, I miss when you were asleep. It was so peaceful.”
“Hey, can we ask Kieran to do a food run for us? I asked Nancy to get me a protein smoothie, but she spaced.”
He says drily, “Does the infamous Tinker Bell charm not work on other women?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course it does. Nancy’s just freaked out that she’s going to do something wrong and you’ll kill her.” When he doesn’t respond to that, I add, “Could be the threat you made on the doctor’s life. Just guessing.”
One of Declan’s dark eyebrows forms into a dangerous-looking arch. “Did she tell you that or did he?”
“Pfft. Like I’d tell you. I don’t want to be the cause of any attacks on my medical team.”
“You make it sound like I’m a rabid wolf.”
“I was thinking something less macho. Like a squirrel. With plague fleas.”
When I grin at his scowl, he stands and stares down at me. “You know what you need?”
“Yes. A hundred million dollars and a button on my bedside table that gives you a shock every time you ask me a stupid rhetorical question.”
He says darkly, “No. A spanking.”
My breath catches. My stomach flips. I stare up at him, my mouth suddenly dry and my heartbeat galloping.
He reaches out and takes my chin firmly in his hand. He runs his thumb over my lips. Eyes hot, he murmurs, “You like that idea.”
I manage to eke out a no that doesn’t convince either of us.
In a throaty, sexy-as-hell voice, Declan says, “Aye, lass. You like it as much as I do. You like being forced to give up control. Because it never happens.”
I’m bacon sizzling on a griddle. I’m a stick of butter melting under the summer sun. I’m a five-alarm fire that’s about to burn down the entire goddamn building.
“Look at you tremble,” he whispers, fingers tightening on my face. “Look at those eyes.”
Whatever he sees, he’s fascinated by it.
I’m sweating. It’s almost impossible to swallow or breathe. I feel frozen, pinned like a deer in headlights, too stunned to move, too hypnotized to run and save myself.
I don’t want to save myself.
In this moment, all I want is to let him run me over.
To let him break me, savage me, tear me apart.
I’ve never felt like this before in my life.
Blue eyes glittering, he licks his lips. When he bends toward me, I almost moan in relief. I need his mouth on mine like I need oxygen.
“Oh. Pardon me.”
The doctor stands in the open doorway, looking nervously back and forth between us. When we don’t say anything, he coughs discreetly into his hand.
“I had you scheduled for another CT scan, but I can certainly come back at a better time.”
When he turns to leave, Declan says, “No. We’ll do it now.”
His voice is rough. His jaw is hard. He straightens and cuts his burning gaze back to mine. He holds my chin for a moment longer, then drops his hand to his side.
I nearly topple off the bed onto the floor, but manage to keep myself upright.
“Be good,” he commands, his tone warning. Then he turns on his heel and walks out.
The doctor looks at me with raised brows. There’s a high possibility I’m going to punch him in the throat.
The entire time I’m having the CT scan done, all I can think about is Declan’s expression when he had his hand around my jaw.