Page 5 of Wanted By a King

Shit. Should I have taken her somewhere else?

Probably. It would be easier than explaining my secret, and I know I don’t have to tell her shit, but I kinda feel like I owe it to her after all the crap I’ve put her through.

Unnecessary crap that I typically wouldn’t give two fucks about, yet here we fucking are.

“I’ve never shown this place to anyone before.” I admit, and her brows shoot up.

“So this isyourcabin?”

I nod.

“This isyourNirvana?”

Again, I nod. “Yes,myNirvana. Probably not yours given the luxury you come from. But this,” I turn my gaze in through the door, “this is my version of paradise.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of her plump pink lips, drawing my gaze to them as if they are calling to me to kiss them.

Fuck.

Maybe this bullet wound is worse than I thought. I think I’m losing my fucking mind.

“I mean, it looks… cozy,” she says as she pokes her head in over the threshold.

I grunt a laugh at her attempt to pretend like she isn’t wishing she were in a five fucking star resort right now before leaning down and swiftly lifting her and throwing her over my uninjured shoulder.

A squeal escapes her, and I chuckle as I step inside the cabin and lock the door behind us.

“There’ll be time to talk shit about my hideaway later, Princess.”

“Grayson Black! Put me down this instant!”

Her attempt at scolding me makes my chuckle turn into a deep laugh as she wiggles around like a squirming sack of potatoes, trying to escape.

A few more steps have me in the galley kitchen, and I ease Zoe off my shoulder before gripping the granite counter to steady myself as my head spins.

Fuck. Carrying Zoe was a bad idea in my condition.

“See.” Zoe scolds. “Look what you’ve gone and done. You have a damn bullet in your shoulder. Stop acting like you don’t.”

I grunt at her, feeling a little too fucking lightheaded, and gesture to the cupboards over the top of the stainless steel fridge.

“First-aid kit is up there. Can you grab it, please?”

Zoe cocks a brow. “That was really hard for you to ask, wasn’t it?”

“Shut up woman and get the fucking kit.”

She giggles. “Much better. So much more Grayson Black.”

This timeIroll my eyes at her, stumbling over to the cushioned booth style seat that lines the wall at the dining table.

I ease my cut off, thankful that the bullet just missed it, and lay it over the table before I peel my t-shirt off, tossing the blood coated fabric to the hardwood floor.

“Oh my God.”

Zoe’s breathless voice draws my attention, and I look up to see pure concern morphing her expression, her blue gaze trained on my exposed wound, and the mess of blood coating my skin.

“It’s just a scratch. Don’t panic.”

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