Page 68 of Falling for the Enemy

Knock it off or lose your head.

His eyes widen. Clearing his throat, he steps back, his latex exam gloves snapping as he removes them and tosses each into the trash.

"She has a very mild concussion, nothing too serious," he says, speaking to me rather than Manzana, behavior that doesn’t soothe my temper. "The unconsciousness likely stemmed from—"

"Speak to her," I snap, hackles rising as my ire ratchets up another notch.

Intentional or not, I won't allow him, or anyone else for that matter, to treat her with disrespect. I may be a possessive and domineering hijo de puta when it comes to my woman, but she earned the stripes she wears on her sleeve.

He needs to act like it.

From where she sits on the exam table, a gown and paper blanket the only things covering her, Ari’s brows rise. Now fully awake and acting as though she didn’t almost just die, a smirk curves her full lips, the sight of the split bottom one causing my jaw to clench.

She'll need stitches; a scar will be left.

If I’d only have arrived minutes earlier.

The doctor wipes away the beads of sweat that cover his forehead with the back of his hand. He glances at her, his gaze smartly locking on her shoulder rather than her gorgeous face.

"I apologize, ma’am,” he proceeds in a thick Southern drawl, his fear evident. “As I was saying, you have a very mild concussion, but it's nothing to worry about.” He forces a shaky smile. “You should be fully healed in seven to ten days, maybe less.”

“Nothing to worry about?” I’m two seconds from putting him through the nearest wall. “She lost consciousness! How is that nothing to worry about?”

A knock sounds on the closed exam room door. “Jefe—”

“¡Ni se te ocurra abrir esa puerta!”

Wisely, Christian listens and doesn’t open the door.

The doctor, however, looks close to darting for it. I’d like to see him try. If he so much as flinches toward the exit, he’ll be the one needing sutures.

“The unconsciousness likely stemmed from a combination of the blast’s concussion and sensory overload,” he replies, smartly staying put. “It’s the body’s way of protecting itself from further damage.”

Protecting itself? By passing out?

I can’t think of a worse defense mechanism.

Sweat continues to bead along his hairline as he stands, focusing his attention on Manzana, as if she poses him no threat. If he only knew.

“Over the next few days, ma’am, rest as much as possible, drink plenty of fluids, avoid loud noises and bright lights, flashing ones in particular. But most i-importantly…”

Growing more nervous by the second, he stutters, his gaze bouncing to me, then the closed exam room door, before going back to Ari. "Don't exert yourself physically."

Knowing exactly what he's referencing, I growl, perilously close to ripping his throat out with my bare teeth. It's not what he said that's the problem—it's what he's undoubtedly picturing.

Ari naked.

Her wet pussy filled with a thick—

The soon-to-be-dead cabrón opens then shuts a metal drawer beneath the exam table, the soft click it creates temporarily cutting through my barbarous thoughts.

"Now let's get your side cleaned up and lip stitched." He places a suture kit next to my woman, his hand nearly brushing her outer thigh.

I’m officially done standing idly by.

I step away from the wall I've been pacing in front of, fisted hands hanging at my sides, and cross the room. "Get your god—"

"No need, Doc,” Ari says, smiling sweetly. She enjoys watching me nearly lose my mind. It’s why she’s been so quiet. Fully aware of how tightly she has me wrapped around her finger, she’s relishing in my headfirst tumble into full-blown obsession. “My new bull will handle it.”

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