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And anger.
Plenty of anger.
“Now the adrenaline is wearing off,” I continue, clenching my teeth as my vision starts to darken at the edges. God, am I seriously going to pass out? “And it… it hurts really badly. I’m actually…” I lose track of my thought as another wave of pain sweeps over me.
Isla’s gaze flicks from Keir to me and back again. “Do something for her!”
“I’ll have a doctor meet us at the residence. If it’s really dislocated, he’ll be able to help. If it’s something worse, he’ll get us into the hospital faster than if we tried to go by ourselves.”
I nod, ready to agree to anything that’ll stop the pain. Closing my eyes, I turn my head to let the late summer sun hit my face. It’s worse when I focus on the pain too much, I quickly surmise.
Flicking open my eyes, I watch as the Roman cityscape passes by. Everything is the same tones is gold and dusty brown, all shades and shadows from the same palette and brush. The world outside rushes by in a mostly-silent blur that’s punctuated by regular jolts of agony that leave me short of breath and nearly in tears by the time we make it back to the luxurious apartment tucked inside the NewsCorp headquarters.
“Where’s the damn doctor?” Keir barks at Lorenzo, the concierge, before we’re even fully inside the building.
He blanches and starts to answer but he makes a dismissive gesture as he ushers me toward the elevator. “Never mind. Send him up as soon as he arrives. If he isn’t here within the next three minutes, I want a fucking helicopter to take us to the hospital.”
“Yes, Lord Grayrose. Right away, sir.”
The elevator doors close just as Lorenzo is scrambling for the phone, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his bald head. Poor guy.
I’d tell Keir to go easy on him if I wasn’t in so much pain… But right now it’s hard to be angry about his raised voice and rude behavior when he’s lashing out on my behalf.
And okay, it is a tiny bit sexy that he’s so commanding and demanding and in-charge right now. But just a tiny bit. I’m still pissed off at him and that isn’t going to change just because he also happens to be the hottest man I’ve ever seen.
His expression softens slightly in the elevator as he gives me a quick up-and-down look. “Does it hurt anywhere else?”
I shake my head. “Just my shoulder. Everything else is numb.”
I look down at Isla. She’s clinging to my leg but I can hardly feel her there. It’s like every nerve ending in my body has migrated to my shoulder, and they’re all screaming at me for some relief.
“So are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”
“What?” I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment to try and make sense of his words. Is he really trying to have this argument now? Here in the elevator? While I’m hurting so bad I can’t even see straight? “I told you it’s nothing. Just my shoulder.”
“And I promise I’m getting one of the best doctors in Italy up here right now to take a look at your shoulder.” He pauses while the elevator door opens and we spill out into the foyer of his penthouse. “But I also want to know what else is bothering you. I’m not an idiot, Ella. I know you’re upset with me.”
Fine.
Whatever.
I guess we’re doing this.
“No,” I sigh. “You aren’t an idiot. You’re probably one of the smartest guys I know. But you aren’t right all the time, and your dismissive, Keiran-knows-best attitude almost got me killed today. You should have listened to me when I tried to tell you about Natasha. You—” My voice cracks as a wave of pain mixed with frustration and exhaustion hits me. I really do want to go on yelling at him until I’ve used up all the oxygen in the room, but it’s going to have to wait.He’sgoing to have to wait for once in his rich, pampered life. “Never mind. I just want to be done here.”
“Daddy, leave Ella alone!” Isla glares up at him, her tiny hands balled into fists. She’s still glued to my hip. I love her for trying to protect me, but I also don’t want her to think that’s her responsibility.
Keir takes a deep breath in through his nose, his lips flattening into a thin line as he reaches for his daughter. “Don’t you think you should lie down for a while, sweetheart? I can send the doctor in to take a look at you whenever he’s finished with Ella.”
“No.” Her small arms tighten around my leg. “I’m staying with Ella.”
I reach down to brush a strand of hair away from her face.
“It’s okay,” I whisper to her. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. Your dad is doing his best to take care of things.”
Those things are all true, but I’m only giving him a pass for now because his daughter is still in the room. And because as justified as my anger might be, the brooding, hurt look on his face also makes me feel a pang of guilt for what I’ve said.
He’s the one who brought it up, though. And besides, I can always apologize later, once my shoulder isn’t throbbing anymore. Once my words have had a chance to sink in through that thick skull of his.
