Page 55 of Deposed

Nurse Priya drew back. “Very well. Everything is healing as it should. I will return tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

As the door clicked shut, a mantle of unease settled over my shoulder and seeped into my skin, casting the explanation I’d given the nurse into doubt. Charlotte’s brother had been the one to drag me to the apartment. He didn’t seem the type to violate a woman while she was unconscious or to allow a man to do it in his presence, but what the hell did I know about him?

I would have to call Jackie to see if she or her interns had noticed anything untoward in the footage.

Chapter 19

Later that evening, I insisted that the boys return to the academy. Three pairs of eyes on my hideous face, combined with Henry oscillating between shock and fury, Edward scheming about how to get even with Charlotte and Carbuncle, and Blake’s over-attentiveness was too much for me in my current state. The painkillers dulled my senses, and after the shower, the bruises had hardened, making it difficult to speak. Henry and Edward left, promising to call every day, while Blake remained. It was his bedroom, after all.

We spent Monday in silk pajamas, sitting on his chaise lounge with my back leaned against his chest and my head resting on his shoulder. Blake wrapped his arms around me and read stanzas from the poem Don Juan, by Lord Byron. With his perfect, British pronunciation, he brought the work to life, making me giggle at the naughty parts.

I twisted around and gazed into his chocolate-brown eyes, noticing for the first time their flecks of golden brown. “You’re a bit like Lord Byron.”

His dark brows rose, and a smile curved his full lips. “How so?”

“Mad, bad, and dangerous to know.”

Blake’s low, deep chuckle vibrated against my back, and he ran a hand down the silk fabric covering my hip. “Don’t you think Edward’s more byronic than me?”

“Byronic, yes. When I first met him, he was mysterious and moody.” I smirked. “You both have Lord Byron qualities.”

He placed a kiss on the tip of my nose. “I’ll consider that the ultimate compliment. Especially since he had a proclivity for getting ladies into trouble.”

I dipped my head and laughed so hard, my ribs ached. Then Blake put down his copy of Don Juan and changed the subject. It turned out that we had more in common than I’d originally thought. Both our fathers had been addicts who had disgraced themselves in the papers, and both our mothers had been models who had married rich. We’d both had our childhoods blighted by divorce, and neither of us had a place we considered home.

During a lull in the conversation, I told Blake what Nurse Priya had said.

His face clouded. “You have to call Tom or Tola and ask to see the footage.”

“I don’t think I can relive that just yet.” I glanced down at my hands. The rope marks on my wrists had already faded into dull streaks of pink.

Blake wrapped his arms around me and pressed a kiss on my temple. “Sorry, I didn’t think. If the story has already hit the news, maybe one of those interns has already seen all the footage. Who do you normally speak to at the newspaper?”

I got hold of Jackie, who confirmed that neither man had taken off my clothes or sexually assaulted me while I had been unconscious. She sounded a little distant, and I wasn’t sure if it was because she felt bad about what had happened to me or disappointed because Blake had rescued me before the abduction could progress into a more sensational story. She didn’t mention Rudolph, and I didn’t ask. As far as I was concerned, I was done with the Saturday Correspondent.

On Wednesday, Nurse Priya uncovered my bandages to find that the bruises had healed a lot quicker than she had anticipated, and later that evening, Dr. Chumley-Stokes visited to give me a final check up.

He drew back from my ribcage and smiled. “Ah, the benefits of youth!”

My cheeks warmed as the nurse replaced my bandages. “I also started using Mrs. Simpson-West’s bruise salve yesterday.”

He grunted his approval. “Marvelous stuff. Well, I’m delighted with your progress. Continue taking the pain-killers every four hours, but refrain from sports or any strenuous activity until you obtain the approval of the academy doctor.”

“Yes, sir.”

The doctor stood and opened the door.

Blake stepped into the room. “What’s the verdict?”

“Miss Hobson is well enough to return to the academy.” He clapped Blake on the shoulder and left with the nurse.

* * *

On Thursday morning, I lay in the back of his mother’s Rolls Royce, stretched out on the seat with my head on Blake’s lap. I smiled into Blake’s adoring gaze, my heart warm and giddy that he was now looking me full in the face. Most of the swelling on the left side of my mouth had faded, and my gaze flickered down to Blake’s lips.

He curled his fingers into my hair and let out a happy sigh. “You’re almost like your old self.”