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“Oh, come now, Emily. You had two years of surgical residency, abandoning it just before your internship was completed. While I find that curious, that doesn’t take away from your abilities. You’re the only chance this cub has of surviving.”
She slowly turned her head in my direction, her brow furrowed. “Is there anything you don’t know about me?”
“Very little. What do you need for the surgery?”
“A complete surgical team.”
“Which you don’t have. What. Do. You. Need?”
As she gave me a list of items, her tension mounting, I only grew more attracted to her resolve and verve, her ability to function in unconventional surroundings. I didn’t hesitate gathering the things she needed, studying every move she made as she prepared to remove the bullet. When she was ready, stroking the injured animal’s face before scrubbing her hands, I realized I admired her more than I had anyone in my life.
There had been few people who’d ignited not only my desires but had also enticed my mind. She’d done that in spades. After gloving her hands, she prepared an anesthesia, meticulously injecting the cub’s forepaw.
The tension between us was palpable but telling. She was a consummate professional, refusing to allow my presence to interfere.
“You could have gotten Kiki killed,” she said as she waited for the drug to take effect.
“Kiki knows how to handle herself around the animals. She grew up with Aziza.”
“You make it sound like a normal occurrence keeping wild animals on your property.”
“Do you really believe I hunt them after what you witnessed?”
She darted me a look then shook her head. “No, but I don’t understand why you keep them.”
“Meaning because I’m a murderer?” I laughed, clearly able to tell she was anticipating an explanation. “There’s nothing for you to understand. The animals were about to be slaughtered, most of them sick or abused. I rescued them. End of story.”
Exhaling, she grabbed a scalpel. “There’s always more to the story with you, Kostya. That much I have learned. Only you can’t trust anyone enough to be honest with them.”
“Why did you not finish your residency?”
“This isn’t about me.”
“Answer the question.”
Her lips pursed as she continued to work, every aspect of her surgical technique obviously trained by the finest surgeons, but there was also a tenderness that sparked something deep within. A memory. A moment from the past that while I couldn’t grasp it, I knew it had altered my personality forever. She ignored me until she managed to discover the bullet, her eyes registering the surprise of what she’d discovered. “Seven point sixty two millimeter,” she half whispered.
My body instantly tensed to the point it was difficult to breathe. “You’re certain.”
“Yes. Military grade likely from a sniper weapon.” She lifted her head, the light in her eyes full of animosity as well as questions.
“You know your weapons even more than I believed.”
“And you know the reason why. Your assassins were hunting for something else entirely.”
“Yes, as I told you. They were hunting for me.” Although my gut had already flared, my thoughts shifting to the possibility that Emily had been the actual target. Why shoot the cub? The only thought I had was they’d found Aziza and the other lions, the creatures likely threatening them. Again. Why hadn’t the fucking sensors gone off?
“Your life is a horrible reminder of everything evil in this world.” She didn’t bother addressing me again, managing to avoid my hard gaze as she cleaned the wound, finally suturing it. When she seemed satisfied with what she’d done, she backed away, her chest heaving. Then she turned sharply toward the sink, ripping off her gloves in anger. I hadn’t expected her emotional reaction, her soft sobbing sounds nearly gutting me.
When I walked closer, she waved her hand, the fingers of her other hand clenching the edge of the sink. Comfort wasn’t something I was prepared to provide, but I couldn’t stand seeing her in pain.
“Just leave me alone, Kostya. Just please leave. Me. Alone.”
I’d caused it. My life. My work. I was the reason for her misery.
I backed away, heading toward the door, furious that my only emotion was one of being incensed. No one shoved me aside. With my hand on the doorknob, I fought the usual anger that threatened to derail all rationality. She did this to me. She was the single person who’d ever made me question my conscience, the starting and restarting of my resolve more infuriating than the situation I’d placed myself in.
We’d shared hours of pleasure, but it was apparent the cost was too high. I was losing my edge, both with keeping her from crawling any further under my skin and business. That had been the reason the assassins had managed to breach my protected world.
