Page 104 of Daddy's Wild Girl

Again, not hers. It was something that had been left here by the old owners.

However, the blanket was hers. It was one of her favorites. Soft and cuddly. It was pale yellow, a bit faded in places, but she didn’t care.

He lifted her feet onto the sofa, turning her so she was lying down with her head resting on a couple of cushions.

“That’s it, baby. We’re going to have you feeling better soon.” Then he took her shoes off and put her feet on another cushion before placing the blanket over her.

Oh. That felt so much better. Especially when he tucked the blanket tightly around her. She now felt like she could breathe. Maybe even relax . . . oh fuck!

What was she doing?

She couldn’t lie here and let him take care of her! She should be taking care of him. This was terrible.

Sitting up, she reached for the blanket and shoved it off her.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asked, turning back to her. She saw that, at some stage, he’d wrapped something around the top of his arm.

When had he had the chance to do that?

Didn’t matter. Who knew what kind of germs that knife had on it? She had to clean the wound and dress it.

Oh God.

“Lie back down, baby. You’re in shock. I’ll be with you in a moment to help, okay? I’m just going to check in with Hayes and get something for this.” He waved at his arm.

“I’ll get the first aid kit!” she cried. “You shouldn’t be taking care of me. I should be looking after you.” She attempted to stand but wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing and tripped over the blanket.

“Oh no!” she cried.

But she should have known he’d catch her. He was a hero, after all. He grabbed her before she fell to the floor, grunting slightly.

Probably because she’d knocked into his arm.

“I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry,” she cried. She fully expected him to grow mad at her. She was mucking everything up. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey. You’re okay, baby. Everything is all right.”

It wasn’t, though. It just wasn’t.

But, shoot! She was doing it again! Ignoring his needs for her own. This wasn’t her. Or it wasn’t who she wanted to be. And she had to help Corbin. He was always taking care of her.

“Don’t . . . don’t distract me!” she told him, pulling away.

“I’m distracting you?” he asked, observing her carefully. “How am I distracting you?”

“By trying to take care of me when I’m supposed to look after you. You’re injured!”

“Baby, I’m fine. This is barely a scratch.”

“Barely a scratch!” she cried, her hands reaching up to tug at her hair. It was still pulled back into a ponytail so she dragged it free, tugging at the strands. The pain helped her clear her head.

“Hey, stop that. No hurting yourself.” He reached up with his good hand and freed her hand from her hair. “Everything is all right, Bebe.”

She shook her head. She was beginning to feel like she was on repeat. Her mind kept flitting from one thing to the other, unable to settle.

A sob broke free from her chest and she could feel the tears welling.

“Please.”

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