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“Okay, honey, but you are going to be sorely disappointed in what I have to tell you, and I will be interrogating you on how you and Tucker have come to be when he has spent two months in a safe house. Take it easy after that tasering. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
“We are about to go out to dinner, Sweetness. Ophelia will be relaxing later on this evening with my—”
“Tucker!” my friend shouts, laughing.
“What? I was going to say ‘with my love surrounding her.’ Ophelia, you really have a filthy mind, not that I am complaining.”
The conversation gets disconnected.
She sounds happy. Good on her. I wish her all the best with that cocky bastard.
“What are you doing, Firebird?” I nearly jump off the bed.
Oh, crap. Slade’s awake. How much did he hear?
His large hand lazily finds my naked thigh under the covers.
“Erm… you’re dreaming, behemoth. Nothing to see or hear, so uh… stop talking in your sleep.”
A minor tremor shakes the bed.
“Stop that! You’re embarrassing yourself by laughing in your sleep at whatever you are dreaming about.” The large hand slips toward my inner thigh, squeezing it gently, which is doing all sorts to my lady bits.
I know if I look over my shoulder, Slade will be all kinds of man-mountain beautiful with his no-fat-all-granite muscular torso, and I won’t be able to concentrate. I’ve seen Slade in just a low-slung towel, still wet from his shower. I almost called the fire brigade to come put me out.
“Do I have to take your phone away from you so you will get some rest and stop sticking your nose where it shouldn’t get stuck?” he scolds me sleepily in a deep, sexy voice.
My phone does a Houdini.
“What the—?”
“Rest and leave Ophelia and Tucker alone. Now, unless you want my hand to wander any further, you will be wise to slip back down under the covers and mind your own business.”
“He calledme,” I grumble, knowing Slade will follow through, and I’m not altogether sure I would want him to stop.
The pain medicine is messing with me.
I carefully slide myself back under the covers, but before I can stop myself, a telltale hiss shoots out from my lips. It doesn’t take much movement now to cause me pain.
“Firebird?” Slade is bolting up, raising the bed covers, then my T-shirt slides up as he examines me. “Your bandage needs to be changed. Do not move an inch. I’m getting the medical supplies from the bathroom.”
I shut my eyes, knowing my face could fry an egg on it.
Ihatefeeling vulnerable.
“Darlin,’ if you would just let me in, this would go a lot easier on you.” His breath fans my ear, smelling of mint.
I freeze, unable to answer him.
My defense is my sassy ‘tude, but I’m not feeling very sassy now because I’m running out of excuses to tell myself why it isn’t a good idea to let my guard down with Slade. Yet, I can’t look at another man.
To hell with getting shot.
Slade lets out a deep sigh, getting up out of bed. “I’m taking a two-minute shower. Do not make me regret not hauling your fine ass into the bathroom where you can lie back in the tub, where I can keep an eye on you while I shower.”
Holy hell. How will I survive this man until I’m back at my place?
