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“Don’t change the subject,” Sully growled.

Louise chuckled and pushed me away a little. Bending, she grasped the sheet resting over Sully’s hips. “May I?”

His glower switched to her. “To remove the catheter? Fine.”

“Not yet, but yes, I will remove that.”

“Then why—”

She pulled the sheet down, revealing Sully’s erection had abated enough not to drag our attention directly between his legs and instead captured our stare on other parts of him.

I gasped.

Sully jerked, his gaze flying over the state of his legs.

I’d grown used to his wounds. I’d given him sponge baths and even carried in a bucket of water from Nirvana one night, hoping a rinse in his favourite waterfall would somehow cleanse him enough to wake up.

His face turned white with horror. “Fuck me.”

“That’s another reason you won’t be walking within a week, Mr. Sinclair.” Louise pointed at his shattered ankle, broken toes, and fracture tibia. Not that they were broken anymore. The cast came off a couple of weeks ago but the bruising still hung around and the withering of muscle around the injuries made it look far, far worse.

His other leg had suffered a broken femur and the harpoon wound had finally knitted together, the stitches and adhesive had dissolved until only a red scar remained. No more blood or infection but discolouration and lack of exercise had left his leg in a bad state of disrepair.

He swallowed hard. “Will I be able to walk at all?”

“You should. In time.” Louise slipped into a quick and digestible spiel. “Your injuries were extensive but your bones have knitted back together while you’ve been unconscious. I suggest you stay off them for another few weeks to ensure there are no new fractures, but the surgery on your ankle has stabilised the joint and there are no serious complications that I can foresee when you do start walking.” She dropped the sheet with a gentle sigh. “Along with the trauma to your legs, you sustained a few cracked ribs from CPR. They might be tender as you begin to move. I must request that you listen to your pain levels and take rehabilitation seriously. The faster you push yourself, the more damage you will cause. Slow and steady is the quickest way to normalcy.”

Pulling away, she smiled at both of us. “I’ll call the kitchens to arrange some food. I’ll be back soon to remove the sensors and, of course, the catheter.” She left with a gentle squeeze on my hand as she passed by. “Good luck keeping him in bed.”

I smiled before sitting on the edge of Sully’s mattress. He surprised me as his hand turned upside down, his fingers wriggling for me to link with him. His willpower to no longer be villa-bound was impressive.

Placing my palm on his, we both sucked in a breath, suffering the familiar tingles and longing.

“Thank you, Eleanor,” Sully murmured. “For everything.”

I squeezed his fingers hard. “Thank you…for coming after me to Geneva and for not dying on me.”

He flinched as if I’d said something that caused physical pain.

That couldn’t happen.

I couldn’t allow his thoughts to stray to the past. What was done was done. It was gone. Time had ticked forward and I’d erased what I could. From this day forward, I didn’t want to talk about his brother or his goddesses or any of the violent crimes I’d read online about him in Jakarta.

We needed a fresh start.

Bracing myself for his temper, I said quietly, “Can I ask you a question?”

His gaze caught mine, still brittle from me thanking him. Brittle because he believed he didn’t deserve thanks. Too riddled with condemnation to move on.

When he didn’t answer, I scooted closer and pulled my hand free from his. Before he could argue, I cupped his cheek instead. His skin was warm instead of cold. Where I touched hummed with love and connection. “When you were unconscious, what was it like?”

His eyebrows raised as if he hadn’t expected that. His jaw worked as he swallowed and chose his words carefully. “It was dark.”

“Were you aware that you couldn’t wake up?”

“Yes.”

“Was it scary?”

“Petrifying.”

“So for six weeks, you’ve been locked in a black cage that you couldn’t escape.”

He flinched again. “I suppose.”

“Could you hear me? Feel me?”

“Sometimes. Not always. Sometimes…the dark would become too thick and I’d lose myself to it. For a while, I was too deep to do anything. I wasn’t even aware I was still alive.”

My whole body ached for him. I couldn’t imagine anything harder. To be denied company and care. To be dead to a world you couldn’t return to.

“What’s this about, Eleanor?” He pressed his cheek into my palm, twisting his head to kiss me gently. “I’m back now. Whatever I lived through is over.”

I smiled, glad he’d fallen into my trap. “Precisely.” I stroked his jaw before slipping my fingers through his longer, wilder hair. The length was a deeper ebony after not being exposed to sunlight and salty oceans for so long.

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