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I nod. It takes far longer than I want it to before I’m finished. I worry the white nightgown is see through and check in the mirror.
Then I see my face in the mirror. Oh my god, there is the bandage on my head and a smaller, thinner bandage over my cheek. I lose track of the bruises on my face, my neck and my arms. Everything is in technicolor. I shrink at the thought of Milos seeing me like this.
I sigh as my eyes travel down the nightgown. The nightgown is beautiful. It’s lined at the top so I didn’t feel the delicate lace that covers my breasts up to the neckline. The hem goes all the way down to the top of my feet, a little long but I don’t care.
I’m so glad Milos picked it out for me. I have no doubt in my mind Milos picked it out, and I would not be surprised if he put it on as well. I blush at the thought.
I turn the water on to wash my hands, immediately the door is open and Magda is at my side.
The man is still there. “I will pick you up only to put you in bed.”
Before I can say anything, I’m up and then I’m down on the bed. With a nod he’s gone.
Magda nods. “If you need help seeing to your needs, you press the button.”
It’s an order. “Yes, okay,” I murmur to get her to go away.
I burrow into the bed, loving the feel of the silk nightgown. As much as I wasn’t happy about the man picking me up, I’m grateful to have something to contrast with being held by Milos. Another part of me is relieved I didn’t feel a thing when the man picked me up.
There’s also an odd sadness—no man has ever made me feel the way Milos Levin did. And now I give in to what I’ve known since the day I met him, no man ever will.
Chapter9
Celia
This timewhen I wake up the room is in a soft glow from the lamp at the small desk. Milos is at the desk. He’s looking at his phone, I blink and his eyes meet mine.
He changed. Ever in black, a long-sleeve black T-shirt and black jeans cling to him. “How are you feeling?”
“Better than when I woke up the last time,” I admit.
“Good. I heard you fell.” An eyebrow is up. It’s clear he’s not pleased.
I shrug as I try to sit up. “Nothing was hurt but my pride.”
“I should not have left you on your own so soon.”
“You could hardly stay by my side the entire time I’m here,” I mumble, only to watch him stiffen. He has been, I can hardly believe it. Since he picked me up off the dirt road, he’s been at my side.
Shaking my head in confusion, “I thought…you said Keith…”
“As much as I wanted to be the one to make him regret ever touching you, it was not me that tortured him. I left it to Peter. You worried me with your inability to wake when the doctor said you should. However, if I had not left to end him the way I wanted to earlier, he would have died on his own. I did not want that.” The words are so calm considering his eyes are arctic cold.
How am I completely unbothered by him talking of killing a man? All I’m wondering about is what might be wrong for me not to wake up. “I wouldn’t wake up?”
He shakes his head. “No, the doctor was sure you would as all tests indicated you should. He was concerned and wanted to stop the drip IV of painkiller. Since your pain ran so deep, I refused to let him cut off the pain relief. I wanted to give you at least a day of respite.”
“You didn’t take me to the hospital?” I wince at how loud the question comes out of me. It’s not fair to him, mafia doesn’t do hospitals.
“I wanted to but he persuaded me against it. We took you to his practice where he has an MRI machine. The only broken skin you had was your cheek, lip, and forehead.” It’s an apology.
An MRI machine in a doctor’s office? I nod. “I’m sorry. It’s fine. I get it. Mafia, Italian or Russian, doesn’t go to the ER.”
Milos is up, only inches from the bed. “I ordered the car to the closest emergency room only for him to assure me they could do nothing for you he couldn’t, and he could do it quicker.”
“I understand. I do. I shouldn’t have gotten...I get it. I’m not complaining.” I reach for his hand, he seems upset. I hate I made him feel that way after all he’s done for me. He takes it, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” His other hand is under my chin, drawing my eyes to his.
