Page 57 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

He folded his arms, and the black eyebrow went up. “Miss Michaels, in the past twelve hours, you had a cardiac arrest, erratic blood pressure, and a concussion. I’m not letting you ambulate for the first time alone.”

She lifted her chin. “I feel like you’re using big words just to intimidate me.”

“What word didn’t make sense?”

“Ambulate.”

“It means to move around, which is not something you should be doing on your own.”

“You healed me. I’m fine now.”

“I’m not leaving this room.”

“Then I’m not getting dressed.”

His nostrils flared, and he dropped his voice to a growl. “I’ll dress you myself if I have to.”

Heat entered her cheeks. “I’ll scream.” She tossed her head toward the curtain. “All those humans will come running.”

His good eye narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Her blood pumped faster, and some impish demon on her shoulder made her reckless. “I’ll have you know that I have something of a reputation for being stubborn and insubordinate.”

He unfolded his arms and leaned toward her a little. And when he spoke, heat curled around his voice, darkening the edges. “Then your Alpha should have turned you over his knee.”

Words stuck in her throat. Any snappy response she might have given shriveled and died, her bravado washed away by the very real image of an irate Bard Bennett forcing her over his thighs and bringing one of those big palms down on her ass.

Heat rippled through her, but this time it wasn’t anywhere near her face.

This time it unfurled low in her belly, making her press her thighs together. Hard.

What the actual fu—

She drew in a sharp breath, giving her head a little shake to banish the scandalous image from her brain.

What had they been talking about? She cleared her throat. “M-Max doesn’t do that sort of thing.”

Do you? The question leaped into her thoughts.

And heaven help her, she wanted to know the answer.

He held her stare for a second, then muttered, “I’ll wait behind the curtain.” Before she could reply, he’d whirled and disappeared, leaving only the waving curtain in his wake.

She released an unsteady breath. What the hell just happened? Was this some kind of aftermath of the healing? It had to be. There was no other explanation for her body’s weird reaction.

That had to be it. He said her heart stopped, and that restarting it had drained him. It must have taken a lot of juice for him to Heal her concussion. Besides, didn’t Lizette always say healing was an intimate thing? Healers poured their own energy into the wolves they helped.

A little voice in her head whispered, “That doesn’t explain his comment about spankings.”

“Not gonna think about that,” she said under her breath.

“Miss Michaels?” Bard’s voice drifted from the curtain.

“I’m fine!” She flung the blanket back and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Someone had put a pair of those fuzzy hospital socks on her. Bard?

Oh god, had he seen her naked? She pulled the hospital gown away from her chest and looked down. She still wore her bra and underwear—a shell pink set Lily had given her as an early birthday present.

Relief coursed through her. If he’d undressed her, he hadn’t seen much.

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