Page 19 of Yours on the Canvas

I still tense up out of old habit, but I’m learning, slowly, that Silas won’t hurt me.

I crack my eyes open again, just enough to see him leaning over me.

“Baby, I have an idea to get you warm,” he huffs a laugh, “I’ll probably get in trouble for it, but it’s worth a try if you’re okay with it,” he says, his warm breath brushing my cheek.

I’ll give anything a shot just to warm up, so I give him a nod.

“Okay.”

His smile is warm, and his voice drops low, settling something inside me. “Can you move over a bit, baby?” His eyes stay on mine, expectant and steady as he rises to his full height.

I try to shuffle, but my body barely cooperates, and I make it all of an inch before feeling strong arms slide under me, lifting me with such gentleness it makes my throat tighten. Silas moves me just enough on the mattress, and then I hear shoes drop softly to the floor, and the quiet rustle of a jacket being tossed on the foot of the bed.

His solid body slides in right beside me, pressing flush against my side, his heat immediately burning against my skin. “I’ve got you, dove,” he whispers against my skin as he wraps his arm gently across my waist, and his warm face nuzzles into my neck, and he presses a light kiss to my skin.

Silas lets out a long sigh as he settles against me, and I start to feel his body heat immediately bleed into mine.

My battered body sinks into his warmth, and I close my eyes, finally drifting off to sleep, warm for the first time since waking up.

I wake later to an angry female voice and the other belonging to Silas, quiet and stubborn.

“Mr. Thorne, you need to get off the bed immediately. This is strictly against hospital policy,” the woman whisper-shouts at him.

“I’m not moving. He’s finally warm, so I’m staying right where I am,” Silas replies, his tone flat, but I know it’s not up for discussion. She isn’t going to win.

“I’ll have security remove you,” she threatens him. I can feel her anger as she wraps the blood pressure band around my arm, and I wince at her movements.

Silas notices. “Careful,” he rumbles, his voice dangerously gruff.

“You shouldn’t be there,” she whispers at him. “I will have you removed.”

“I’m staying right where I am. This is the first time he’s been warm, and I’m not moving,” he says, his tone full of authority.

My attempt to croak out stop doesn’t come out the way I want it to, sounding more like a grunt than the word, and my hand tightens on Silas’s arm, making my desire for him to stay clear.

I force my eyes open, my fingers wrapping tighter around Silas’s arm. With every bit of strength I can scrape together, I look at the nurse. “Warm,” I rasp, my voice a little stronger this time. “Please… stay.”

The nurse lets out an exasperated huff. “Fine, but I didn’t see this. Do you understand me, Mr. Thorne?”

Silas chuckles, low and warm, his lips brushing against my neck as he settles back into me.

“I’ve got you, dove,” he whispers against my skin as my hand stays firmly over his arm where it rests across my waist, and I let out a deep sigh as I lean my head against his and close my eyes.

* * *

Two days later, the swelling in my eyes has decreased so I can see Silas clearer now.

I’ve met the doctor, who keeps telling me how lucky I am. He gave me a lecture about how dangerous fighting is—yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Smart guy, that doctor. I told him as much, too.

He’d purposely waited until Silas wasn’t in the room to voice his opinion and then proceeded to scold me like a child. Silas had walked in on the last few words, catching the tail end of the doctor lecturing me.

He didn’t hesitate, telling him, and I quote: “Get the fuck out before I throw you out the window.”

The doctor damn near ran out the door.

Now, Silas sits with his huge frame somehow folded into the small hospital chair, tapping away at his laptop balanced on his knee. I grunt, getting his attention, and motion with my head to the screen.

He glances toward the closed door, then looks back at me with a sly, smug smile.