Page 32 of Bound By Longing

I gasp and spin around …

And end up stepping on a piece of glass. I shout and stumble over to a chair and plop down. Nadia continues to look at me with pity, and it’s starting to drive me insane.

Damien comes over to my side—not rushing, but not taking forever either. “What happened?”

“Glass.” I show him my foot. A small piece is sticking out.

He winces. “That could get infected. There could be a small piece still stuck inside. I’ll be right back.” He walks out of the kitchen, leaving Nadia and me alone again.

She doesn’t say anything. Only looks at me with her small smirk. I wish I could be as confident and brave as her. Instead, I’m a little girl playing dress up.

And now I have a boo-boo to top it all off.

I sigh. Why can’t I be more womanly? And why does it matter to me that I’m not?

Damien comes back into the room, carrying a first aid kit. Kneeling before he, he takes out the piece of glass from my foot and cleans my wound with an alcohol rub. I hiss, almost kicking him in the face.

He chuckles. “Careful.” He grabs my foot and steadies it. The touch of his large hand on my ankle sends shivers over me. Nadia catches my gaze over Damien’s head and smirks harder.

I quickly look away from her, but then my gaze lands on Damien, and I have to look away again. Feeling awkward, I finally settle my gaze on the table.

Damien finishes fixing up my foot and places a bandage on it. “There. You’re all set.”

“Will I live?” I ask.

“You’ll live. I’ve cleaned a lot of wounds like that. Many of them my own.”

“Too bad I wasn’t hurt,” Nadia says. “You could have fixed me right up, too.”

Damien stands up and turns to her. “What are you still doing here?”

Her mouth gapes open before she shuts it. “What?”

“You can go home now, Nadia.”

I look between the two of them. Nadia is clearly shocked, while Damien seems set in stone.

“We were having fun,” Nadia says.

“I know. And now, we’re done. Go home.”

With a huff and a last look at me, Nadia storms out of the kitchen. After a moment, I hear the front door open, and she’s gone, leaving Damien and me alone.

“Why did you tell her to go?” I ask.

“Because I didn’t want her here anymore.”

I stroke my thumb over my foot and consider his words. “But how can you send someone home so coldly after …”

He raises an eyebrow. “After what?”

I look away with a blush.

“After what, Mila?”

“I heard you,” I whisper.

“Heard me? Doing what?”

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