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“Nope. Avoid them, but these ones…” I turned to him and fiddled with the button on his shirt. “You’re so pretty, Kavner Fury.”
His eyebrows went up. “You really like those painkillers.”
“I think I like you, too.” I frowned. “I tried not to.”
He tucked my hair behind my ear. “I noticed. And so you know, I like you, too.”
“I really like kissing you.”
He groaned. “No kissing today.”
I shifted closer. I loved that body of his. He made me feel safe. Protected. No one had ever done that for me before. When my father had gone to prison, and Mom had struggled, I’d had to grow up. My comfortable, secure existence had disappeared in the blink of an eye.
But in Kav’s arms, I felt safe again.
“Why no kissing?” I asked.
“Because you’re hurt. The side of your face is swollen, and you’re under the influence of those painkillers you’re liking so much.” He gently brushed the side of my head. “You need to rest.”
I tilted my head. “You’re taking care of me.”
“Yes.”
The elevator slowed, and he led me into the penthouse. He flicked on the lights, then got me settled on his couch.
I snuggled back into the comfy cushions. “I would have been fine back in my apartment.”
“No.” He put his hands either side of my head and leaned close. “You’re hurt, and I’m taking care of you. And you’re in danger. You’re safe here.”
Warmth spread inside me. “Okay.”
With a satisfied nod, he straightened. “I’m going to make you something to drink. I had someone get some things from your apartment.”
I should probably be annoyed that he’d sent someone to my apartment, but right now, I didn’t care. “It must be nice to have people to do things for you.”
“It is.”
“You didn’t always have that.”
He looked up, was quiet for a moment. “No. Once, I had nothing.” He walked over, slipped my shoes off, then lifted my feet onto the couch. He draped a throw blanket over me. “It taught me to appreciate when I get my hands on something valuable. Something precious.”
My heart did a funny little wiggle in my chest.
He ran his knuckles over my uninjured cheek. “Now, rest.”
Propped up on the cushions, I watched him stalk off to the kitchen.
“Can you roll up your sleeves?” I called out. “Pretty please.”
He shot me a sexy smile. Then turned back my way and took his time rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, and baring those toned forearms.
I almost moaned.
A few minutes later, he brought me a steaming mug and I sniffed it.
“It’s chamomile tea,” he said.
I pulled a face.
