Page 27 of Darkest Kiss

Chapter Seven

Rian

Watching Noemi come down from Gloss is terrible. It was just two hours ago that she was moaning, grinding on my lap, and demanding another orgasm. But now she is hunched over the toilet, alternately retching and groaning despondently. It's hard to watch.

Which is saying something, coming from me. I've been in the room for countless tortures of men foolish enough to cross the King family. But this is different.

Because I want to help, to lift her and make her nausea vanish.

A man knocks on the bathroom door. "I’m Dr. Bernard. Mr. King sent me."

I grab my phone, double checking with Ransom that he did indeed give the order. Then I nod stiffly. "Help her."

He nods and pushes his way into the bathroom, kneeling to get closer to Noemi. "Miss Caruso? I'm a doctor. I want to help. Can you come into the bedroom?"

Noemi shakes her dark head, then convulses as she wretches again. I step closer, my fists clenching. But Dr. Bernard is opening his medical bag.

"Here. Take this bag to throw up in." He offers a blue bag with a hard plastic mouth, which Noemi takes and clutches to her face as she gags. Then the doctor backs up and waves me in. "Get her on the bed."

Five minutes later, Noemi is situated under the covers of my bed, an IV taped to her inner arm. It hangs from the bed frame behind her. She still clutches the plastic bag, but I think whatever the doctor gave her is beginning to work, because she sags, sleepy, instead of constantly vomiting up bile.

I look at the IV bag. "What's in there?"

"Anti-nausea meds, saline, and dextrose. I brought a few bags as backup."

Noemi's eyes drift closed. I reach out, touching her dark hair, brushing it back.

"No sedatives, though."

"Correct."

I tell him, "You should make yourself comfortable for the day. My valet can put you in one of the lounges downstairs."

If Dr. Bernard has other plans, he's smart enough not to mention them. He gives a faint smile. "Of course."

"You can go." I sit on the bed beside my woman, noticing that she shivers in her sleep. Fuck. The air conditioning is cranked up full blast. Getting up, I head to turn it off and grab another blanket.

Justin, my valet, pokes his head through the doorway. "Doc says I should have some ginger ale, Gatorade, and saltines for our little patient. I'm going to make a run to the bodega."

I nod. "Yes."

He raps his knuckles on the door frame and then disappears again. I grab a pile of blankets from a linen closet in the hall, then return and pile them carefully on top of Noemi until she resembles a very small, very well-insulated burrito.

My plan involved never actually interfering with her life. She would just continue to live without ever knowing that I follow her.

The violence that floats after me like a halo should never touch her.

But now she's here. Lying in my bed, orgasming on my face, asleep in the cozy little cocoon I've constructed. And there's no going back.

Not for her. Not for me either.

Now that I've touched her, tasted her... I can't simply open my hands and let her fly free. It's not how I'm built.

I'll apologize to her a thousand times while I crush her autonomy.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I want nothing more than to sit by Noemi's side as she sleeps, sifting my fingers through the fine silk of her hair. But I can't.

When my phone buzzes again, I slip out of my bedroom, closing the door softly. Then I answer the phone with a grunt. "What?"