I’d no sooner finished my sentence than I was flipped onto my back, Duke’s lips at my neck.
He didn’t say anything else.
But I sure did conduct a decent amount of research.
“What are these from?” I asked, trailing my fingers over two puckered scars on Duke’s stomach. They marred his otherwise perfect abs. He had other scars, not as deep and violent-looking as these, though.
My head was resting on his chest and it was my first chance to inspect him up close. And to slow down my thundering heart. It was only now getting down to a resting rate, and we’d been lying here like this, silent, for at least half an hour.
I had no idea what time it was, or, fuck, what day it was.
All I knew was that Duke’s arms felt nice around me and made me feel as safe and sated as I’d been...ever.
“Knife wounds,” Duke said, answering my question. “Friend of mine had a fuckin’ piece of shit stalker after her. Somehow got through security, took me by surprise.”
He was angry about that, it vibrated through his voice. Not even at the man who did the stabbing, but at himself.
But I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to inspect that. I was too busy focusing on the fact that the two scars I was touching were from someone fucking stabbing him.
“You were stabbed? Was it serious?”
A totally stupid question, I was aware, since two knives slicing into your stomach deep enough to cause a scar like that were most obviously serious.
Duke paused. “Was in a coma for a few days. Hospital for longer. Rehab was a bitch. I’m here to talk about it, but the fucker who did it is in the ground.”
The only reason I was able to jump up from the bed was because Duke was not expecting it. I wasn’t even really planning on getting up either until I started pacing the room. “You were in a coma? That’s serious, Duke,” I snapped, still pacing, trying to work out the images of this strong man lying in a hospital bed.
Duke sat up in bed. “I know it was, I was there,” he said sounding mildly amused. “But I’m also here. So you can come back to bed.”
I ignored this. “What does your family think about you classifying a stabbing that put you in a coma like you got a fucking graze on your knee or something?”
A pause. A heavy one. “They don’t know.”
I stopped pacing at this point to gape at him. “They don’t know? How the heck do your parents not know that you were stabbed and put in the hospital? Weren’t they your emergency contacts?”
I had no idea why I was getting this hysterical over something so far in the past it was nothing but scar tissue, but I was. The idea that Duke’s family had been here going about their daily life while their obviously beloved son was in the hospital baffled and upset me.
“Because I had Greenstone Security on that list so as not to worry my parents over shit,” he replied. “It’s part of the job, and I certainly don’t want them worried about shit they don’t need to be.”
“They need to worry about their son being stabbed and lingering on death’s door,” I snapped. “They’d want to know that. They’d want to sit at your bedside and fucking feed you ice chips when you woke up. But they weren’t there. Who fed you ice chips, Duke?”
Duke got out of bed and I had a moment of sheer appreciation at his naked body outlined in the moonlight. It was a full moon. Of course it was, that’s why I was acting like such a crazy person. It had nothing to do with my intense feelings for Duke.
His hands landed on my hips and yanked my body close to his. I reacted to that too, even though I wasn’t sure if my body would survive another round of sex.
“First off, baby. I was not at death’s door,” he said, still sounding too amused.
“I was using dramatic license,” I bit out. “And I think it’s safe to assume when a badass man casually mentions he’s in a coma that things are a lot more serious than aforementioned man was letting on.”
The corner of Duke’s mouth moved and if it turned into a full-blown smile, he was in a buttload of trouble.
“Secondly,” he said, ignoring that little outburst. “I had the entire team there, and nurses are employed to do things like get ice chips.”
“It’s not the same,” I muttered, looking downward.
“I promise, next time I get stabbed, I’ll let you feed me ice chips,” he said.
My eyes snapped up. “No, you need to promise not to get stabbed.” The thought of Duke bleeding, Duke in a hospital bed, Duke not existing on this earth...it chilled my bones.
There was a long pause. He was most likely calculating his odds of getting stabbed in the future before agreeing to the promise. He wouldn’t make it if he didn’t think he could keep it.
“I promise, baby.” He laid his lips on mine, sealing the promise. “Now come back to fuckin’ bed.”
I frowned at him. “I’m going, but be sure to remember that me obeying an order from you is not the norm.”
He chuckled. “Oh, I know that, babe.” His hand trailed down the column of my neck and slipped under the silk of my nightie, caressing my breast. “But I’ll make it worth your while.”
And he did.
He totally fucking did.
I found Harriet in the kitchen sipping coffee. She grinned at me knowingly. “You’re late this morning.”
I couldn’t help but smile back. Usually I had more control over such expressions—since a woman knew a misplaced smile could send the wrong message to the wrong man and at best, end in unwanted attention and at worst, an everlasting trauma.
But this morning was different. I woke up with Duke’s mouth on my neck, his hands working between my legs. I was barely awake before my first orgasm tore through me. I was definitely more aware with the second.
We lingered in bed, which meant Duke had to go straight out to the barn to get his horse and help with his ranch duties.
Before he’d left, he’d landed a hot and soul-shattering kiss on my already swollen lips, so I’d wandered to the homestead in a trance. Everything looked different, smelled different. It was like I hadn’t been seeing colors before. Now everything was bright, vibrant.
Hence the smile.
I took the coffee Harriet offered.
“I’m guessing I have you to thank for last night,” I said.
She sipped her coffee. “Oh, no. That smile on your face is all thanks to my grandson.”
I rolled my eyes, still smiling. “Thank you.” The two words were filled with so much else. Of course she didn’t know that we weren’t together before this. She didn’t realize what last night really was. Or maybe she did. There was a glint to her eyes, a knowing that made me think Harriet saw a lot more than she let on.
“What I’ve learned in my years is that men aren’t good at romance,” she said. “Not because they don’t want to be, but because they’re men. What I learned in almost forty years of marriage to a man I loved is that men really are wired differently than us. Now, I’m a feminist, always have been. I didn’t want to admit that bullshit. I was convinced men were just lazy, entitled. Marriage teaches you differently.” She looked out the window, sadness edged her gaze. I’d known that Duke’s grandfather had passed. Anna had mentioned it cooking one night, in passing, glossing over the wound that so obviously hadn’t healed right.