Page 32 of His Kidnapped Irish Mafia Virgin

“I don’t care if it’s only a scratch. You’re bleeding!”

He opened his mouth as though he intended to argue, but I was already guiding him toward the front door before he could say another word. I wasn’t even sure whether I was helping him or simply dragging him along through sheer determination. All I knew was that I wanted him inside, where I could see exactly how badly he’d been hurt.

Paddy followed us into the house, closing the door quietly behind him. He watched the two of us for a moment before the faintest hint of amusement appeared in his expression.

“Boss,” he said, sounding almost sympathetic, “I’d stop telling her you’re fine if I were you. I’ve seen this look before.”

Liam sighed and gave Paddy a look that suggested he wasn’t being particularly helpful.

I didn’t have the patience to listen to either of them any longer.

“Sit down.” Both men looked at me. “Liam,” I said more firmly, “sit.”

To my surprise, he actually did. He lowered himself carefully onto the sofa, still insisting with every movement that nothing serious had happened, while I hurried into the bathroom to collect the first aid kit. By the time I returned, Paddy had disappeared into the kitchen and came back carrying a bowl of warm water and several fresh towels.

“I thought these might help,” he said quietly. He placed everything on the coffee table before looking at Liam. “The doctor has already spoken to Michael. He’ll come by later this evening just to make sure you’re fine, but from what I saw outside, the bullet only grazed your shoulder.”

“I told her that.”

I shot Liam a look. “You can stop talking now.”

The corner of Paddy’s mouth lifted slightly. He hesitated just long enough to make sure everything we needed was within reach before disappearing toward the far end of the house. I knelt in front of Liam and reached for the buttons of his shirt.

He watched me without saying anything. My fingers weren’t as steady as I wanted them to be. Twice I fumbled with the buttons before finally undoing them, and when I pulled the fabric gently away from his shoulder, I let out a slow breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

The wound wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d imagined. The bullet had carved a shallow path across the top of his shoulder instead of burying itself inside him. Blood still coated the surrounding skin, but the bleeding had already slowed considerably.

Relief washed over me so suddenly that it made my knees weak. Then irritation followed immediately afterward.

“You call this fine?”

“I call it manageable. Occupational hazard, that’s all.”

I dipped one of the towels into the warm water before carefully wiping the dried blood away from his skin. He barely reacted. Once the blood was gone, I opened the antiseptic, soaked a piece of gauze, and pressed it gently against the graze. Liam inhaled sharply.

I finished disinfecting the wound, spread the medicated cream carefully across the damaged skin, and wrapped a fresh bandage around his shoulder with slow, deliberate movements. Each time the bandage circled his arm, I found myself checking the wound again, almost expecting it to have become worse while I wasn’t looking.

Only after I secured the final strip of tape did I finally allow myself to sit back. My hands remained resting lightly against his forearm. I hadn’t even realized I was still touching him until several quiet seconds passed and Liam covered one of my hands with his own.

“Nora.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Because now that the practical work was finished and there was nothing left to clean, bandage, or fix, all the fear I’d managed to keep under control came rushing back.

When I’d opened that front door and seen the blood on his shirt, the only thought that had entered my mind was that I was too late. The possibility had lasted only a few seconds, but it had terrified me anyway.

Liam hadn’t moved since I’d finished bandaging his shoulder. One of my hands was still resting lightly against his forearm, while his remained over mine, warm and reassuring in a way I hadn’t expected. When I finally looked up at him, he was already watching me.

His eyes searched my face with the same quiet attention he gave everything else, and I realized he’d noticed the change in me long before I’d found the courage to say anything.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

I tried to smile. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does if it’s keeping you this quiet.”

I looked away, tracing the edge of the bandage I’d wrapped around his shoulder just to give my hands something to do. The neat white dressing looked completely out of place against his skin. It should have made me feel better. Instead, it reminded me that only a few minutes earlier that same shoulder had been covered in blood.

“I thought...” My voice caught. I swallowed and tried again. “When I saw you outside...I thought...”