AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Lucas would kill me if I put a stitch in his face,” she commented without lifting her focus from what she was doing.
I stayed and watched her inspect and then stitch up the various wounds on his body she deemed necessary to stitch. I handed her washcloths when she requested them. I tried not to freak out too much about the surreal situation I was in.
Finally, she straightened to her feet and fixed a level gaze at me. “He’s going to be sore and angry when he comes to, but I don’t think there’s any permanent damage, unless you count his ego and pride. No crazy physical activity for a few days. Keep his fluids up. Keep his wounds clean.”
I nodded. And then blinked. “Are you going?”
She smiled. “I am. ADBB. I’ve got a horse to inseminate and a Great Dane to neuter.”
She made her way to the powder room adjacent to the living area and washed her hands. I tuned out the sound of running water, focusing instead on Lucas. I tried like hell not to notice he was still naked but wasn’t overly successful.
“ADBB?” I asked, raising my voice so Doctor Winchester would be able to hear me.
“All done. Bye bye.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“How long will he be out of it?” I asked. Damn, Lucas had incredible legs. And abs. And chest. I mean, the guy was sedated—with an animal tranquilizer, for all I know—but even zonked out he was sexier than sin.
Still roaming my gaze over his body, I reached for the last clean washcloth sitting on the coffee table and draped it over his groin. It was that or find myself staring at it.
“No idea,” Lila said right beside me.
I jumped. And swore. Jesus, how did she make no noise walking about in stilettoes?
“Take this.” She circled my wrist in a firm grip, raised my hand palm up and deposited the gun she’d offered to me earlier in it.
I jerked my stare to the gun. GLOCK 36 was etched into its side. My heart and my pulse decided it was the perfect time to compete for fastest thing pounding in my body.
“Remember about the safety,” she went on as if she hadn’t just casually given me something I’d never possessed before. “And try not to shoot your own foot off.”
She bent at the waist, scooped up her medical bag and smiled again. “I’ve written my cell number on this.” She handed me a small white card. “I’d appreciate it if you don’t give it to anyone. Oh, and tell Lucas the bill is in the mail.”
I searched for something to say, something witty, something profound, something snarky, but she was gone before I found it.
The solid thud of the front door closing announced it was just me and Lucas again.
Puffing out a breath, I dropped into the chair I’d supervised his medical care from and stared at him.
He didn’t move.
I turned my stare to the gun in my hand.
It also didn’t move.
My heart and pulse intensified their competition, thumping and beating and hammering away in my throat and ears and chest.
Returning my gaze to Lucas, I frowned. “You better give me answers when you come to, Pratt,” I muttered, putting the gun and her card on the coffee table before rising to my feet, “or I am going to shoot your foot off with this thing.”
Lucas insisted on remaining motionless. Bastard.
I pulled a face at him. “Okay, I’m going to make some coffee.”
I did just that. For the next thirty minutes, I drank coffee, ate toast—the kitchen was not only fully equipped, it was fully stocked with a refrigerator full of fresh fruit and vegetables, eggs, bacon and milk—and wandered the house.
There was no denying it was Lucas’s place. It radiated Lucas.
Making certain the doors and windows on the first floor were locked and latched, I made my way down the stairs, munching on a slice of toast as I did so.
