Page 86 of Twisted Prince

But then I would have to confess to keeping it a secret all this time, and I don’t know exactly where Gleb and I stand right now. He very well could want to keep more space between us after everything that’s happened.

And what if he finds out and doesn’t want Gabby? He could leave us stranded halfway to safety if the idea freaked him out enough.

Perhaps it would be better to wait and see how things play out.

At this point, I don’t think waiting a little longer will hurt anyone. But letting the cat out of the bag too soon could wind up ruining everything and maybe even hurting Gabby.

Which is the last thing I want to do.

“Did you have a nice time with Gleb?” I ask Gabby, stroking her soft head of hair.

Gabby nods. “He’s funny,” she says.

That’s a first.

I would describe Gleb as many things, but funny would not be a word that comes to mind. He’s always seemed so serious and… well, lethal is really the only way I can describe the aura that surrounds him.

But my little girl thinks he’s funny? That makes me smile.

“Do you want to tell me about anything that happened while I was… asleep?” I ask. My concern for the trauma Gabby might have endured comes to the forefront of my mind now that I’m confident she’s physically okay.

Gabby sits up and shrugs, like she’s not quite sure what I’m asking.

“Were you scared when our car crashed?” I urge gently.

She nods gravely, her thumb sliding into her mouth. And because she’s been through a lot, I let her keep it.

“Did you get hurt?”

She shakes her head no. “Too much spinning,” she describes around her thumb.

I nod. “What happened when the spinning stopped?”

“Geb let me free. He carried me and Mama to the trees.” Gabby frowns and removes her thumb from her mouth, wiping the spit on her shirt. Then she tucks herself beneath my chin once more, seeming to be tired of my line of questioning.

And because I don’t want to push her too far, I hold her close and rub her back.

Still, I love the way she tries to pronounce Gleb’s name but doesn’t quite have it yet.

“You’re such a brave little girl,” I murmur and press a kiss to the crown of her head.

A soft knock on the door draws my eyes toward it, and a moment later, the doctor steps in, Gleb close behind him. Green eyes find mine, making my heart skip a beat, and I turn my attention back to the white lab coat to ensure I don’t send the heart monitor into a tizzy.

In his late thirties, the blond doctor has square wire-rimmed glasses that make him look bookish. The way he’s parted his medium-length hair to one side and slicked it back with product adds to the professional, if-not-nerdy style, and he gives me a kind smile as our eyes meet.

“Miss O’Mara, My name is Dr. Heinz. I’m happy to see you’re awake. How are you feeling today?”

“Fine,” I say. But when Gleb gives me a severe look, I add, “I do have a bit of a headache.”

Nodding, Dr. Heinz pulls a penlight from his pocket and comes to stand on the side of the bed that Gabby’s not occupying. “Let’s take a look, shall we?”

Nodding, I try to keep myself from blinking as he lifts one of my lids, then the other, and shines the light into my pupils. Then, he transitions to checking my vitals.

“Well, Miss O’Mara, it looks like you’re recovering nicely,” he states when his exam is done. “You suffered a pretty impressive concussion where you bumped your head.” He points to the gauze taped over my temple. “Don’t be surprised if you feel a bit lightheaded or confused over the next day or so.”

I nod, then cringe as my head throbs.

“I’m prescribing lots of rest and relaxation. Sleep as much as your body tells you to. The stitches should dissolve naturally within a few weeks, and if you apply regular antibiotic ointment on it, you’ll get minimal scarring.”

---