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“Dr. Mads?” I say as we exit the kitchen door with about five others of my best guys.
“Yeah, that’s the nickname we’ve given her.”
I laugh despite my agony. “Not bad.”
He grins and laughs. “One word of advice, don’t ever piss your wife off.” He leans in. “And see if she won’t consider that line of work on the side.”
“Stranger things have happened,” I say, grimacing past my pain. “Look, I want to get word to her that I’m all right, she must be going out of her mind. Then I need a shower to wash all this crap off me.”
“Alright, yeah, I think there’s a bathroom down the hall here. I’ll call Madison and let her know her favorite patient is back, and she’ll need to patch up your leg.”
About forty minutes later, I was back home, all clean and drugged up enough not to wince too bad when Madison leaped into my arms and hugged the life out of me. When she saw my wounded thigh, she immediately had me lie down and went to work on it. Fortunately, the bullet went clean through, requiring minimal surgery and sutures.
Our security detail has doubled even though the converted warehouse is a veritable fortress unto itself, with so many secret hideaways and a rich weapons cache. It’s designed to be an intruder’s worst nightmare. Nonetheless, when the Wolf heard about what happened, he sent a small army to serve as my security detachment. The first thing they did was grab Natasha to send her back to Moscow. She’ll remain there until she has Sergei’s baby, and then the Wolf will decide what to do with her. After what she pulled, she’s far too unhinged to leave to her own devices. Order and proper respect for authority must be maintained at all costs.
I recuperate in the guest bedroom Nick had stayed in since it’s on the first floor and climbing stairs is off limits according to Dr. Mads. Yeah, the name sort of stuck. Even she thought it was amusing.
She’s sitting in the chair next to my bed when I wake up.
“Hey, you,” she says with a sleepy smile.
“What time is it?” I ask groggily.
“Uhm, 6:08 a.m.,” she replies, glancing at her watch.
I note the blanket across her legs and the crumpled appearance of her clothing. “You slept there all night?”
She shrugs. “Where else would I be?”
I pat the empty space at my side. “Here, next to me.”
She gives me a dramatic frown. “I don’t sleep with my patients, Mr. Petrosky. What kind of doctor do you think I am?” The smile stretches across her face. “I didn’t want to bother your leg or your broken ribs. You needed your rest, babe. Doctor’s orders.”
“No argument here.” I rest my head back on the pillows and just gaze upon her for a moment. She’s all smiles and good humor, but Stieg told me how frantic she’d been when she first called him from the Hampton house to report what had happened to me. He said she was shaking with fear…not for herself, but over my fate. She wouldn’t eat or sleep until she knew I was back home safe. And then there was the matter of the interrogation…
“You know how sorry I am about all of this,” I say. “Victor’s sent his best guys to take over our security. His men have gone out and sent a very clear message that we are under his special protection, untouchables. I just want you to know that.”
She nods. “He called while you were asleep and told me as much. It seems I’ve been assigned a permanent driver to transport me back and forth to work, and anywhere else I need to go. All ex-military, special forces caliber.”
“Nothing but the best for my family,” I say, glad that she’s taking this all in stride. “You know, I never thanked you.”
“For what?” she says, sitting forward, elbows on my bed.
I look askance at her. “Stieg tells me that without you, I might still be sitting in that farmhouse basement, less some of my favorite body parts.”
She laughs. “What?”
My smile fades. “He told me…what you did to the Albanian…to get him to talk.”
Her face flushes and her gaze falls away. “I…I was desperate, sick with worry. I lost my head.”
I lay my hand upon hers. “I’d have done the same, if not worse, if someone were keeping me from you. You don’t know what it…” It surprises me when my voice chokes off, “What it meant to me, to know I have someone like you who cares that much for me. I didn’t think it was possible to love you more than the day I married you, but I do.” I squeeze her hands. “God help me, I do.”
She lifts her sweet hazel eyes to mine. “So, you don’t think I’m some kind of twisted little psycho now?”
“Oh, you’redefinitelya little psycho, babe,” I say deadpan. “I sensed that from the moment we met. I thought—now here’s a woman with the perfect balance of brains, beauty, and danger.”
She laughs. “You did not.”
