Page 182 of Heart of Frost and Scars

“Monty…” I stare at his fingers around my wrist.

“I have a surprise for you.” He stands and moves to pull out my chair.

When he offers his hand, I take it, allowing him to lead me out of the restaurant.

With four security guards flanking us, we walk to his garage in silence. There, under the glow of overhead lights, he guides me toward a car resembling the batmobile. A red one.

“Get in.” He opens the door for me, which rotates upward in a sweeping motion like a wing.

I lower into the bucket seat, enveloped by high-quality leather with detailed stitching.

The drive through town is a daze of lights and motion, the car’s engine a powerful roar. Security follows in the Range Rover, but it feels like we’re the only two people in the world.

His long fingers grip the steering wheel with a command that quickens my pulse. When he shifts gears, I’m mesmerized by the fluidity of his movements, the way his knuckles flex and tendons tense.

There’s something incredibly sexy about the precision with which he handles the hypercar. An effortless mastery. His jaw locks with concentration, but every so often, a smile plays at the corners of his lips.

He knows exactly the effect he has on me.

Heat radiates from his body, and I realize I’ve shifted too close to him, drawn to the scent of leather and aftershave. I want to touch him, feel the muscle and sinew beneath his shirt, and trace the ridges of power that define his physique.

But I don’t. Because that would be cheating.

With my husband.

He crosses the bridge and parks in the hospital parking lot.

Confused, I turn to him. “What are we doing here?”

Without answering, he steps out, opens my door, and motions for me to follow.

40

Frankie

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Feeling self-conscious and exposed, I stand in the parking lot where I used to work and smooth down the minidress. It plunges daringly and barely covers my ass. Definitely not appropriate for a hospital.

“You’re radiant. If I stare at you much longer, I won’t be able to walk.” He discreetly adjusts himself.

“Thank you.” I grip his offered hand. “Why are we here?”

Again, no answer.

As he leads me to the entrance, I scan the lot, my eyes darting to the darkness at the edges.

Four security guards surround us, but the shadows writhe with menacing whispers, concealing watchful eyes and unknown dangers.

“Relax.” He moves his hand to my lower back, adding firm pressure. “You’re safe.”

Inside, the familiar hum of the trauma unit greets us, a comforting chaos I’ve missed so much.

Dozens of familiar faces gather around the front desk as if expecting me. Dr. Simons, Nurse Letty, and Rhett stand among them, the warmth of their smiles quickening my gait and tugging me away from Monty’s grip.

“Frankie.” Rhett’s face lights up when he sees me.

I rush to him and wrap my arms around his sturdy frame. As he hugs me back, I feel a weightlessness I haven’t experienced in so long.

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