He put the plug in the tub and turned on the tap, making sure that the water wasn’t too hot, before he headed back downstairs.

“These cuts are pretty superficial,” Grayson said. “I can leave some bandages and disinfectant for after your bath, but I don’t think you need stitches or anything. Just clean them and dress them. A saltwater bath from time to time is a good idea. They’ll heal pretty quick.”

“Is there someone we should call?” Jagger asked.

An icy sharp frisson made its way down Clint’s spine.

But Brooke quickly shook her head and blurted out, “No.”

“The police even?” Grayson asked, curiously.

“No!” she said even louder this time, her eyes wide with panic. “Not the police.”

Grayson, Jagger and Clint exchanged looks.

“I ... I haven’t done anything wrong ... I just ... I—”

“You don’t have to explain right now,” Clint said, stepping forward. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“You said you were on a yacht for a party, Ms. Barker. Am I to assume you were drinking?” Grayson asked.

“I-I only had two glasses of champagne, then I switched to lemon water. I don’t drink much anyway, and I had the glasses early on in the evening. Well before I ended up in the water. I wasn’t drunk if that’s what you’re implying. I didn’t fall into the water like a drunk sailor. Someone pushed me.”

Grayson pressed his lips together and nodded. “I believe you.”

Brooke went to sit up, but the blankets pooled around her waist and she realized she was topless, so she laid back down and tugged the covers up to her chin. “I—”

“I gotcha,” Clint said, nudging Grayson out of the way, forcing the doctor to stand up and let Clint get into position. He bent down and scooped up Brooke and all her blankets. “That way we don’t have to scrub blood stains out of the carpets all day tomorrow.”

She blinked at him with more tears in her eyes. “T-thank you …ummm?”

“Clint,” he said. “Clint McEvoy. And that’s Dr. Malone.”

“Just call me Grayson.” Grayson smiled. “I’ll be back in the morning to check on you. But, as long as you stay warm and stay awake until your temperature is back to ninety-eight-point-six, you should be okay.”

“You still keep the ear thermometer in the first aid kit in the kitchen?” Jagger asked.

Clint was nearly at the stairs. “Yeah.”

Brooke glanced over her shoulder at Grayson. “T-thank you.”

Clint paused at the bottom of the stairs and fixed his gaze on Grayson. “Yeah, thanks, man.”

Grayson’s brown eyes were tired, but he smiled his bright white, genuine Grayson smile. “Anytime.”

Jagger returned from the kitchen and handed the thermometer to Clint, piling it on top of the mound of blankets. Clint’s arms were beginning to get a little numb from just standing there, holding Brooke and all her layers. If it’d just been her, like before, he’d be fine, but the layers were heavy.

“I’ll see Grayson out,” Jagger said.

“Thanks,” Clint replied, starting the stairs. He reached the top when the gentle rumble of Grayson’s truck echoed from outside. “The big bear with the beard is my younger brother, Jagger.” All she did was nod and chatter her teeth. He turned the corner into his bedroom, then again into the bathroom.

The tub was about halfway full with a gentle steam. He had a small table beside it with shampoo and soap. Not that he had baths often, but Talia liked to use his tub, so hopefully Brooke didn’t mind smelling like watermelon lemonade.

“Nobody can see in,” he said. “The windows are tinted.”

She didn’t say anything, but smiled faintly, then shivered.

Setting her down on the tile floor, he went about getting some big fluffy white towels from a tall cupboard along the wall. “You’ll be okay?”