Page 65 of The Pakhan

“Stop moving,” Caroline told me.

She was the one who’d almost been kidnapped yet she was tending to my inflamed injury. She’d propped my foot up, determined to keep my leg immobile while putting ice on it.

“I’m fine. I’m worried about you.”

She repositioned the ice bag just before it fell off, lifting her gaze. All the defiance had returned in her shimmering eyes. Of course we were safely locked away in my estate, about a dozen soldiers manning the exterior, but she’d gone through two horrific events in less than a week. Her attitude and intentions on taking care of me highlighted just how strong she was.

“I’m a big girl, in case you haven’t noticed. I can take care of myself.”

Instead of answering, I reached out, tugging the pin from the center of the bun, allowing her long locks to fall. She remained in the dress but had ditched her heels.

“I said. Stop. Moving. Now. I will tie your hands down. Do you hear me?”

“Why, yes, ma’am.” I’d had a torrent of men prowling through, several asking me questions. I’d had them check the grounds top to bottom to ensure a trap hadn’t been set. Now was the first time I had a chance to be alone with her.

“I’m serious. You have no idea if you’ve torn a tendon, which you don’t need. Try and relax.”

“That’s tough for a guy like me.”

She flitted another look at me then finally plopped on the couch next to me, moaning when she grabbed her glass of wine. “I understand.”

“I was worried, Caroline. Very worried. You need to tell me what happened. Why were you so close to the corridor?”

“I just needed a little space. I told you I wouldn’t leave the room but the people were suffocating. I don’t know how you do it.”

“I don’t. I choose not to attend events like that for several very good reasons.”

She turned toward me, curling her legs under her. “Is this the Italians?”

I cocked my head. “I’m not convinced it was.”

“Then who came after me?”

“That’s what we need to figure out. Did you see anyone before a bag was placed on your head?”

She closed her eyes, resting her head on the back of the couch. “Some guy I hadn’t seen all night called me by my fake name and said someone told me he should talk with me. I don’t know who he was. I admit it. All that is a huge blur at this point.”

I squeezed her hand, the pain in my leg starting to throb. I must have groaned because she was up in a flash.

“Do you have pain pills?” She was even more demanding than before.

I had to admit I did like her being so bossy. That would make taking her down a notch or two, taming her, that much more delicious.

“I’m not taking pain pills. I need to focus.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re a big dude. What do you weigh, about two hundred?”

Grinning, I allowed myself to enjoy the moment and her attitude. “Two twenty and all muscle, baby.”

She gave me that kind of look and I laughed. “Where are the damn pain pills?”

“Seriously. I don’t like what they do to me. I do have some ibuprofen in the cabinet near the sink in the kitchen. I’ll be happy to take three.”

“You are a stubborn man who will get yourself hurt or killed because of it. Take the three I bring you or else.” She took another gulp of her wine before placing the glass on the coffee table.

I threw up my hands in acquiescence. At least for now. That would be short lived.

As she walked out of the room, not only was my mouth salivating but my cock was back to full attention. It would seem pain and rage didn’t keep my other bodily functions from working.

---