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‘At a private clinic in Harley Street?’
Remi frowned at the accusation. ‘Other than pointing out the geographical location, do you have a point?’
‘Yes. I have a point. I can’t afford a private doctor.’
Agitation charged her movements and he caught her wince as she freed herself from the seatbelt.
‘Dio, calm down before you aggravate your injury.’
‘First of all, we don’t even know if I have an injury. Secondly, please stop ordering me about.’
He took a sustaining breath and reminded himself why he was doing this. For his family.
For reasons he intended to get to the bottom of before the day was out, neither Jules nor his bodyguards had seen fit to report the incident with Maddie. Remi shuddered to imagine what the press would do if it got out.
He wasn’t out of the woods yet. He needed to play this right to prevent any possibility of a scandal further down the line.
But beyond that he knew there was another reason. The unquenchable need to make sure history didn’t repeat itself. That he didn’t spend more nights racked with guilt about someone else—even if that person was this stunningly gorgeous but aggravating blonde who looked nothing like his Celeste but who nevertheless evoked astounding, groin-stirring sensations within him.
He ruthlessly pushed the hot throb of lust aside and nodded to his driver to open the door. ‘I value my time and my privacy. I’m assured of both here. And you insult me by suggesting that I would expect you to pay for medical attention necessitated through my brother’s actions. Now, do you have any further objections?’
Plump lips he found far too tempting stayed shut for a long moment before she exited the vehicle. He followed, telling himself the tingle in his fingers wasn’t from the desire to touch her again, to place his hand on that delicate waist and guide her into the clinic.
In fact, he made sure to keep his distance from her as they were checked in and Maddie was escorted into a suite where a barrage of scans were lined up.
Fifty minutes later he stared out of the window, jaw clenched, as they were driven away from Harley Street towards his hotel.
‘You pushed for those tests and now you’re not going to say anything?’ Maddie asked testily from beside him.
He kept his gaze on the passing view. He deemed it much safer, because something about the sling around Maddie’s arm agitated his every last demon and fired a level of fury he’d never known before.
‘A hairline fracture on your ulna. Two more on your ribs. Bone-deep bruises on your left hip that will take two more weeks to heal.’ The words fell from his lips like shards of glass.
‘I know what the doctor said. I was there too, remember?’
He rounded on her, knowing his rage was misguided but unable to stop himself nevertheless. He speared his fingers in her hair, ignoring her hot gasp as he dropped his face to hers.
‘I don’t know who I’m more furious at—you for not insisting on seeing a doctor or Jules for being a blind, selfish idiot and landing me in this situation,’ he breathed against her mouth.
She gasped, and the sound transmitted straight to the core of his roiling emotions. To her credit she said nothing, for once choosing the wise course. But her silence meant that other sensations rose to the fore—her closeness, her unsteady breathing, the warmth of her delicate jaw beneath his fingers, the wild pulse racing at her throat. The velvety smoothness of her lips.
Against his better judgement he glided his thumb over her lower lip, then suppressed a thick groan as her lips parted.
The gentle rocking of the car jerked him to his senses. Just as shame and guilt slammed into him.
Celeste.
Every moment in this woman’s presence, behaving like a base animal, betrayed his late fiancée’s memory. And dragged him deeper into a quagmire he was beginning to fear he would never be free of.
The top floor of the Four Seasons hotel was on permanent reservation to the Montegovan royal family since they were frequent visitors to England. And perhaps its most valued asset was the discreet private access it granted to its VIP guests.
Remi was grateful for the entrance now, not only because it shielded him from prying eyes, but also because it was secure enough not to require his bodyguards’ presence.
He didn’t need witnesses to his agitated state, nor did he need indiscreet enquiries as to why he was escorting a woman wearing a waitress’s uniform and a sling to his suite.
A gorgeous, dangerous woman with lips as soft as silk.
He shoved his balled fists into his pockets, cursing his libido’s atrocious timing and the instrument responsible for its reawakening.
