Page 86 of Take Her from You

It gave, and I stepped inside. The curtains were open and the light off, but that didn’t stop me seeing the large figure on the double bed.

Valentine. Breathing, alive, and rolling over to greet me. A wave of emotion had me pressing my fingers to my lips, stifling a sob.

He blinked owlishly and struggled to sit up, his features contorting in pain. “Christ, woman. What time is it? It just seems like five minutes ago Raphael brought me in. I meant to call ye, but fuck knows where my phone is.”

Composing myself, I crossed the room. “After two. I only just heard you were back.”

“I’ve no idea how long for. The meds are messing with my head. I slept most of the flight.”

“Is no one else here?”

“The housekeeper was earlier, I think. Or I may have imagined her.”

“Are you in pain?”

“Naw. Can’t feel a thing. Come here.”

Taking care not to jostle him, I sat on the bed. Valentine twisted to face me, the quilt sliding down his bare torso. A heart monitor sticker was still on his chest, and small bruises marked his inner arms, but those were the only indications of his hospital stay. Aside from his loopy state.

He eased an arm around me and gave me a heavy hug, a blissed-out sigh leaving his lips. I gently returned his friendlyembrace, and another sob shook me. It took a moment to subside.

“I heard what happened from Daisy. That must’ve been so terrifying.”

Valentine closed his eyes, holding on. “It pissed me off. I’m out of action. All because some fucking arsewipe decided to take me on.”

“He stabbed you.” My voice trembled.

“Aye. Nicked something so I nearly bled out. My brother and Jackson saved my life before the docs had a second go at it.”

I went quiet. He did, too. The whole thing could’ve been so much worse. Valentine could’ve died.

And in that second, I gave up.

Gave up pretending Valentine wasn’t more to me than a friend. That I hadn’t been developing something deeper for him than I’d ever felt for anyone before. It was a hopeless endeavour because he was never going to reciprocate my feelings, a painful reality I’d have to swallow, but denying myself wasn’t possible anymore.

I cared about him. A lot. It caught up with me in a dizzying rush.

“I’m so, so happy to see you,” I whispered.

“Holding on to ye is the first time I’ve felt grounded in days, sweetheart.”

“Hello? Valentine Graham? It’s Heather from Nurses at Home,” a woman’s voice called. A knock at the back door chased her words.

I eased off the bed. “In here.”

A nurse bustled into the room. She squinted at Valentine and then smiled at me. “Ah, grand. My instructions stated that this fellow would probably be on his own because he refused to stay in hospital or have an attendant. Not ideal for the first week or two of his recovery. Who are ye?”

“Mia,” I said.

“Excellent. Mia, will ye be taking care of Valentine?”

“Of course I will,” I promised, my heart swelling all the more.

But a glance back showed me he’d once again fallen asleep.

An hour later, after gently waking Valentine to do observations, meds, and wound care, giving me the horrifying sight of the slash injury in his thigh, the nurse had gone and I needed to collect my daughter.

“We’ll come back with food for you,” I promised.

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