AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 4
Flesh Wound
“Don’t look so worried,” he says. “I won’t bite you.”
I swallow hard. There’s that innuendo again.
“You must be thirsty,” he says. “Hang on.”
He comes back with a chilled bottle of water. It makes a snapping sound when he opens it. I hate bottled water. It’s an absolute travesty to the planet. But my mouth is desiccated, so I decide to make an exception just this once. Besides, he’s already broken the seal. I take a swig, and it’s absolutely glorious. I chug half the bottle, then swipe at my mouth to catch the drop that escaped.
“Thank you,” I rasp.
“Ivy. I know your name because I went through your phone to find it.”
I slant my eyes at him. “You went through my phone.”
“It was a medical emergency,” he counters. “I needed to check your … medical details.”
Liar.
I don’t break eye contact, even though it’s difficult to hold his gaze. “Who are you?”
I mean, I have a pretty good idea of who he is, but I’m finding it hard to believe.
“You don’t need to know my name,” he replies. “All you need to know is that you had a nasty fall, but you’re all patched up now.”
“You’re a … doctor?”
He grins at me, and it’s practically blinding. Jesus, his smile should come with a health warning. “No, I wasn’t born with those particular talents.”
“Which particular talents are you referring to?” I ask. “Kindness, care, empathy, wisdom?”
“Yeah, all of those,” he says, still smiling. “I got my personal doctor to attend to you.”
Of course he has a personal doctor on call.
“Nothing to worry about, apparently. You’ll be just fine.”
“Flesh wound.” I’m referencing some dark comedy I saw where someone had an arm blown off and brushed it off as a “flesh wound.”
Surprisingly, he gets the reference and chuckles. I’m a bit stunned to see him laugh again. How can someone like me make someone like him laugh? Just as quickly, I get irritated with myself. Just because this man is insanely good-looking and ridiculously rich does not make him a better person. Of course I can make him laugh. I could make him do other things, too…
“Do you always blush this much?” he asks, making me blush harder. A supremely annoying habit, and one I have seemingly zero control over.
I decide to just be honest. “Yes. I hate it.”
His eyes twinkle, as if he sees it as a challenge. I could help you with that, I can imagine him saying.
I try to steer the topic back to the reason I’m in a strange hotel room. “So, your doctor checked me out?” I say, reaching up to the small dressing on my temple. “Any stitches?”
He shakes his head. “No, she just used those nifty plasters. Butterfly closure strips, she called them. Said it leaves a better result, aesthetically speaking.”
“Oh, great,” I reply. I hadn’t thought of that. “Another scar to add to my collection.”
He sits up a little straighter, and his face darkens. “You have a collection? Why?”
Oh shit. Did I say that out loud?
