Page 84 of The Millionaire's Mechanic

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Georgia’s lashes fluttered, and she gasped. It was a mistake. Taking a deep breath hurt like a son of bitch. The words echoed in the air, a garbled mess. “Sonubithh.”

A flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye, and then Rainer was there. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

Georgia relaxed, sinking into the bed. Rainer was all right. They hadn’t gotten him. She felt his hand move over her hair, over her cheeks, and she pulsed with joy. It was duller, her entire body aching and sluggish, but she didn’t care. Her love was here. Nothing else mattered.

“I love you, too.” A drop of saltwater on her lips. His tear. “And if you ever do anything like that ever again, I will never forgive you.”

She tried to move her arms. Rainer was hurting and she need to comfort him, but her stubborn limbs wouldn’t move. They were too heavy. But he quickly found a solution. Rainer climbed into the bed with her, careful to stay on her uninjured side.

“What do you remember?”

Georgia tensed, the distant sound of cannons echoing in her ears. “I got shot.” The words came out indignant. But the memories were hazy. Filling in the pieces was starting to make her dizzy.

“Don’t try,” Rainer whispered when she confessed as much, her eyes already starting to close. “For now, the only thing you think about is recovering. We’ll fill in the blanks later.”

Too tired to argue, she leaned against him. All too soon she slipped back down under.

Georgia didn’t feel it when Rainer got up and left the room.

The doctors told Rainer that Mack’s convalescence would be much longer than Georgia’s. Given the way he’d been holding her when shot, the bullet had angled in such a way that his liver had been lacerated and his gallbladder perforated. But a person could live without a gallbladder, and Mack was big and physically fit. The doctors were cautiously projecting a complete recovery.

Rainer spent the night at the hospital, stretched out on a cot next to Georgia so he wouldn’t jostle her in his sleep. But he slept poorly, tossing and turning as he tried to find the cleanest path out of the shit storm Sam and Mack had thrust them into.

Except it wasn’t all bad. You would have never met George had it not been for them.

Groaning, he got up, washing in the narrow shower in the bathroom before changing into the fresh clothes one of his people had brought last night. He had a choice between jeans and a t-shirt and a suit, but he didn’t need the armor of formal clothes. Not for this.

The nurses had kept him apprised of Mack’s condition. A few hours after the surgical anesthesia wore off, the man finally began to stir.

Rainer slipped into the room as the hospital began its early morning bustle. He wasn’t quiet, but it still took a few minutes for Mack to rise to full consciousness.

The younger man stared at him. “Is Georgia okay?”

And there it is.The reason Rainer hadn’t been able to sleep. No matter what his faults, Mack loved Georgia. When push came to shove, he’d proved he’d lay down his life for her. And despite everything, deep down, she still loved Mack. Just not the way Mack wanted.

“She will be.”

Mack’s eyes narrowed. “Then why are you here?”

Rainer crossed one leg over the other, leaning back in a gesture calculated to irritate. “We have Samantha Jones in custody, along with two of Vasil Kolesnik’s known associates. Everyone is going down.”

The ghost of a smirk crossed Mack’s face. “You don’t have anything on me.”

Yes, Mack was smart. He’d done his homework, and he knew faking his death hadn’t broken any crimes. “I’m aware. Which is why you’re going to confess and tell us everything before Samantha has a chance to twist the detectives to her side.”

He settled his hands in front of him, weaving his fingers together loosely. “I’m sure you know how persuasive she can be.”

Mack’s features tightened. For a second, Rainer thought he had him, but then the other man shook his head, his lips set mulishly. “Nothing I did for Sam was illegal.”

Rainer doubted that, but he knew the best legal scenario was for Mack to confess. “I’m not sure you’ll be able to convince a jury of that.”

“Why?” A sneer. “Because I’m black, and Sam is white?”

“I was going to say because you’re a man and she’s a woman,” Rainer said, raising a brow. “And then there’s the fact you did play dead, which isn’t going to go over well with the authorities…but I know people. Tell us everything, cooperate with the investigation, and I can push for the minimum sentence.”

Mack scoffed. His mouth opened, but Rainer leaned forward. “Do it…and for every year you spend in prison, I will compensate you.”

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