Page 150 of Another Girl Lost

“I’m always stressed.”

“More than usual.”

“Maybe.”

A nurse arrived and pushed her wheelchair out of the room. They checked out at the nurses’ station, and then he angled the chair into the elevator.

Outside, she tipped her face to the sun, soaking in the light. “You have a thing for sunshine,” he said.

“Most people do as long as they aren’t vampires.”

“True.”

His car was parked by the entrance, and he opened the passenger-side door. The nurse edged the wheelchair close to the car. Margo lifted herself out of the chair and lowered into his car.

“Good?” the nurse asked.

“Never better.”

“Call if you start bleeding or have pain,” the nurse said.

“Will do.”

As the nurse pushed the wheelchair back into the hospital, Dawson closed the door and came around to the driver’s side. Behind the wheel, he started the engine.

She shifted in her seat and rested a hand on his thigh. “How about you stay over? You said you could do wonders on an air mattress.”

He shook his head. “You just got out of the hospital.”

“I’m fitter than I look.”

That prompted a smile. “No doubt.”

“Then stay.”

“Give it a day or two.”

She pouted in a charming way. “You’re too good. I need to corrupt you more.”

He refused to think about her naked and willing under him. “In a day or two.”

When they arrived at her place, he parked out front. She’d not asked once about Scarlett, and as he helped her out of her car, she didn’t glance toward the warehouse. Victims of attack generally showed some change in behavior. False bravado, reserved to the point of shuttingdown, or skittish and weepy. She was none of these. She was who she always was.

As he came around to her side of the car, she’d already opened her door and started to rise. He reached for her elbow, but she brushed him away.

“I told you. I’m fine. Stop fussing.”

He stood back, and as she moved around the car, he shut the door. Some might have felt like Judas in his position, but he didn’t. Still, he needed to prove to himself more than anyone that he’d not made a mistake with her.

As they rode up the elevator, the soft scent of hand lotion floated around him. She’d left three buttons of her top undone, drawing his attention to the slight side curve of her breast.

The doors opened and he followed her to her apartment. When they stepped inside, the naked floor plan was still stripped of furniture and had a stark, unwelcoming feel. Immediately, his gaze was drawn to the portrait hanging on the wall. Della. He was getting to know that face well.

“Interesting choice of art,” he said.

“From my new best friend, Scarlett.” She dropped her purse on the kitchen counter.

“Want me to take it down?” He couldn’t pull his eyes from the portrait.

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