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"A friend of mine."
"An Attolini mobster friend?"
"A Fiore doctor friend. You're hurt, Sybil."
I roll my eyes. "God. It's just sprained. You have ice at your place that I can make do with just fine."
He gives me a fierce look. "You're nevermaking dowith anything less than the best from now on. Not when I'm here. Got it?"
"I—"
"And it's not just your ankle. You'repregnant, Sybil. I want a doctor's confirmation and a checkup to make sure you're okay after falling down that fucking ravine. You're sure nothing else hurts? Your stomach? Your head?"
I study him as he pulls into an unfamiliar street full of skyscrapers, parking smoothly. He's genuinely worried. I shouldn't like that, either.
Nico finally looks at me, arching an eyebrow. His hand is still on my thigh. Come to think of it, he hasn't really stopped touching me since leaving the woods.
"No," I manage. "Just…nauseous."
He helps me out of the car, ignoring my indignation when he scoops me back up again. A few people glance at us as he strolls down the sidewalk and into the building. My face is a thousand degrees when the lobby workers see us.
"Put me down, you brute," I hiss.
"You're not walking on that ankle," he growls back, and then he kisses my cheek.
What alternate universe is this?
A kindly older woman seems to recognize Nico. "Mr. Fiore! I didn't see an appointment for you, but—well, right this way, of course. I doubt Paul cares in your case!"
She giggles and looks back at him an awful lot as she leads us down a hallway to luxurious office spaces. The woman doesn't notice me, all filthy and fuming, and seems intent on watching Nico's every move.
Which I begrudgingly understand. Heissexiness personified, after all.
"Thank you, Janice," he says pleasantly.
Evidently thrilled that he remembered her name, she blushes and clacks away back down the hall. Nico uses his back to press open one of the frosted glass office doors.
It's a tidy office space, but it's clearly used by some kind of medical specialist. Everything is crisp and clean, tasteful, and practical, with medical charts up on one wall and the white-haired doctor examining x-rays on his big computer screen. It smells like vanilla. A big cluster of strange medical machines is on the other end of the room.
The doctor's bushy brows shoot up, and he stands with a smile. "Ah, Mr. Fiore! And who's this?"
He's taking in the dirty, leaf-speckled mess that I am with a slightly wrinkled nose, but Nico looks at me with a small smile that hints at his dimples.
"Doctor Lee, this is my fiancée, Sybil Rivera."
Again, with this fake story. My cheeks warm. I give him a sickly-sweet smile back that tells him hownothappy I am that he's doing this to me again. His smile only grows.
"Oh! I didn't know you were engaged, Mr. Fiore–congratulations to both of you. Forgive me, Miss Rivera," Dr. Lee laughs. "You're just so…."
"Gross," I sigh. "No worries. I get it."
Then he catches sight of my ankle and lines appear on his forehead. "Oh, in here for this, hmm? Go ahead and sit her down, Dom, and I'll just—"
"We want a pregnancy test, too."
Nico does sit me down, but to my embarrassment, it's right in his lap as he takes one of the open chairs across the desk. I manage to squirm out of his arms and into the other seat, but he keeps one hand on my knee still. As the doctor speaks, it trails up and down like he's trying to drive me insane.
"I see! Very exciting. Yes, we can get that done right away, too. Would you prefer to test your blood or urine, Miss Rivera? Both are highly accurate, but blood typically works earlier—"
