Page 61 of Her Redeemed Protector

Al answers the door, his familiar grin tinged with concern. “Hux, my man. Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Sav’s down for the count, might’ve caught something at the hospital.”

“Can I see her?”

“Absolutely, go ahead,” he says, stepping aside to let me pass.

Savannah’s room is a plush comfort, yet the sight of her unoccupied bed with its blankets haphazardly thrown aside tightens a knot of worry in my stomach. I pause in front of the half-open bathroom door.

I peer in.

“Close the door! Close the door!” Her voice is a sharp whip of embarrassment.

She’s perched on the toilet seat, panties and pajama pants tangled around her ankles, her hands flailing for me to leave. I can’t help but feel a smile tugging at my lips, even as I pull the door shut and respect her plea.

Behind the closed door, I stifle a chuckle, listening to the flush of water and the flow of the faucet. Savannah finally emerges, her expression a canvas of bashfulness. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she murmurs, eyes darting away. She looks a bit pale, her movements sluggish. Otherwise, I think she’s holding up.

I lean against the wall, arms folded, the hint of a grin still playing on my lips. “Hey, I’m your boyfriend. Why are you so shy about it?”

She bites her lip. “I know, but… toilet business is still personal,” she protests.

Despite that, I’m not giving her any personal space, peering at her curves bluntly, stopping at the nipples piercingthrough her singlet.

“Stop it, Hux,” her voice trailing off as she notices me hiding the bouquet of roses behind my back.

“Or what?” I challenge.

“Or… or I’ll…” She grumbles, unable to finish her sentence. My knowledge of her has passed the intimate threshold. I know what she’s trying to say. Then she sighs. “Never mind. What are you doing here?”

I extend the flowers to her—a riot of reds and pinks.

“They’re beautiful,” she breathes out, the tension easing from her shoulders as she leans in to smell them. She almost hugs the bunch. Thankfully, the wrapping paper is thick, shielding her from the thorns.

I can see the moment her spirit lifts, a genuine smile replacing the embarrassed flush. “Did Dad tell you I was feeling sick?”

“No, just a hunch,” I reply, my chuckle lightly veiling my disappointment at our derailed plans.

She squints, piecing it together. “Wait a sec! That’s why there was no dinner from Dad tonight. He knew you’d come and whisk me away on a date?”

“Something like that,” I say, the corners of my mouth turning up despite the situation.

The date we’ve both looked forward to remains elusive, but it’s a small thing considering the rest. Her health, her company—that’s what truly matters. Yet, as she clutches her chest, a familiar fear grips me. “Should we head to the hospital?” Her heart condition is still on my mind.

She waves me off with a laugh. “I was just there, Hux. I’m all right. Probably just my immune system deciding to take a little unscheduled break.”

I kiss her, praying that she’ll be careful. My gaze lands on the empty teacup by her bedside. “How about a refill?” I offer.

“No, I’m all tea’d out,” she replies.

“Maybe some takeout then? Soup could be good for you?”

Instead of answering, she climbs back into bed, then pats the space beside her, an invitation. Sliding in next to her, she sets aside the roses and runs her fingers along the length of my tie—sexy, irresistible. Her eyes sparkle as she purrs, “You look so handsome, it ought to be illegal.”

“Arrest me then,” I retort with a mock seriousness.

She gives an insatiate growl, her gaze flitting daringly toward my belt. “Tempting,” she quips with a glint in her eyes. But she brings herself back, and with a sigh, she adds, “How I wish we were heading out on that date right now.”

“There will be other times,” I assure her, believing it fully.

Curiosity brightens her eyes. “So, tell me, what’s new?”

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