Page 19 of Dash

I dipped my face in his shoulder and wept until my tears drenched his shirt. As I cried, a huge weight lifted from my chest. Enveloped in his scent, braced against the fortress of his body, I found the comfort I’d been craving for so long.

I also felt needy, pitiful, and afraid. This was the same man who’d deceived me, the one claiming to be my father’s heir, and yet, right now, my fear of dying—my belief that I’d been dying—had been so strong that I couldn’t do anything other than cry and hold on to him. I gave myself permission to be pathetic, at least for the next few minutes.

With my grief and fears contained within Dash’s strong arms, I began to feel somewhat confident that I could handle any sickness other than the one that ended my mom. Then it hit me. They don’t keep you in the hospital if you’re healthy.

“What is it?” I sniffled, looking up at Dash. “What’s wrong with me?”

“I think it’s best if we let Dr. Jacob explain.” He wiped the tears off my cheeks before he pressed a kiss on my forehead.

It was a chaste contact, and yet it lingered like the warmth of a day at the beach. It reminded me of that time I’d fallen off my horse, long ago. I might’ve been maybe seven years old, and I’d sneaked out of the house to try out my new pony. Dash had been the only one around the stables. He’d cautioned me to wait for my instructor before I got on the horse.

The willful child I’d been didn’t listen. I ended up eating dirt. He ran to me and picked me up. I’d cried, mostly because my pride had been wounded. I’d fallen off the horse in front of my kid crush, no less.

He’d dusted me off. He found a small scratch on my arm, washed it, and put a Band-Aid on it like the efficient, precocious kid he’d always been. He must’ve been around twelve years old then, but I swear, he’d been born an old soul. On that day long ago, he’d looked at me with those deep brown eyes and brushed his lips over my skin just above the Band-Aid.

“Here you go, darling,” he’d said soberly. “I kissed it and made it better.”

He had indeed. Back then, and now as well. He probably didn’t even remember it. I’d always counted that as our first kiss.

The memories were sweet, but the current absence of his lips on my skin cut short my recollections. I opened my eyes and found him staring down at me.

“Why are you here?” I asked, grappling to restore the fury that had made it possible for me to maintain the distance between us and failing.

He tilted his head and locked eyes with me. “Why do you think?”

“To keep an eye on me,” I offered quietly. “To make sure I don’t get a jumpstart contesting Father’s will.”

“Right on the first. Wrong on the second. I’m here towatch over you and make sure you get better. Let’s hit pause on the Astor Group stuff. I won’t make any big decisions about the business, I promise. We won’t speak of this again until you’re well.”

“But—”

“No business until you’re back on your feet,” he repeated in his most intractable tone. “Until then, I’m declaring a truce. You got that?”

The rebel in me pouted outwardly, but to be honest, relief swept over me. Right now, I didn’t feel strong enough to confront Dash, let alone win a fight. A truce sounded good. I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath. I needed to wrap my head around so many things. Sensing the weight of Dash’s stare, I reopened my eyes.

The hunger in his gaze stole my breath. The contact of his hand on my skin awakened all my senses. The silent discussion taking place between our bodies pebbled my skin. Need radiated from him, electrifying my desire. Fear, uncertainty, and lust collided within me. In the end, my fears prevented a disaster. I looked away, and he cleared his throat.

“I’ll call the doctor.” He slid out his cell and pushed the dialer. “Jacob. This is Dagger. She’s awake. Over here. Stat.”

This was pure Dashiell Dagger, ordering around one of the best doctors in the world to appear before him as if he was a lowly private in the Marine Corps.

“He’s coming,” he announced.

“But you’re sure it’s not c—”

“It’s not,” he assured me. “You know I’d never lie to you.”

But he had, at least by omission.

My mood plummeted. A veil of sadness fell over me and yet I was keenly aware that certain parts of my body hadn’t had any trouble coming online under his touch. Here I was, in a hospital bed, knowing I was stuck in the hellish limbo of notbeing able to love him, and yet also longing for his touch and his kisses.

The nurses burst into the room ahead of the doctor. A flurry of activity had them checking my vitals and updating my electronic record. Through it all, Dash stood by my side like my personal bodyguard, glaring at the nurses with a look that threatened to skin them alive if they did anything to hurt me.

“Ms. Astor.” Doctor Jacob entered the room, a small, bald, eminence of a man with a closed, squirrely face. I’d learned from my earlier consultation with him that he held his cards close to his chest and never entertained possibilities, only cold hard science. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks.” The look that passed between the doctor and Dash didn’t go unnoticed. “What is it, Doctor?”

“Privacy, please,” the doctor said, and he only spoke again once the staff had cleared the room. “I take it Mr. Dagger here has addressed the elephant in the room?”

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