Page 63 of Tempted By her Daddies

Standing, he twisted her around so she was lying lengthwise down the sofa. Then he picked up a cushion to place under her foot.

And he put another one behind her back, pushing her slightly so she was lying down.

“Um, Alexei,” she said hesitantly. “Don’t you think this is overkill?”

“No. I will get you an ice pack.” He stomped toward the door, picking up his beer and taking a swig. “Oh, stay where you are. Do not move.”

She sighed. “I’ve got to clean up all the bird poop!”

“No, you don’t. Do you need anything?”

“A drink would be nice,” she replied. She rarely drank alcohol, but if she was ever going to start then today would be the day.

He returned a few minutes later.

With a juice box.

An actual juice box.

“Um, I was talking about an alcoholic drink,” she told him.

“I don’t think that would go well with your painkillers,” he replied as he fussed with the ice pack over her foot.

“What painkillers?”

“The ones I have for you.” He held up a bottle and rattled it.

Who knew he could turn into such a mother hen?

“Um, well, I don’t take painkillers,” she told him without thought.

“What? You don’t take painkillers? Are you allergic?”

“Um, no.” Shoot. That likely would have been the easiest excuse to use. Although it might have led to questions that she couldn’t answer with confidence. “I just don’t like them.”

“You don’t like painkillers?” he repeated.

“Well, it’s not that I don’t like them. It’s just . . . well, I . . . ”

Lord. How did she tell him this? It was embarrassing. She hadn’t been able to tell Roman the other day, instead she’d just hidden the pills in her pocket while his back was turned.

“What is it?”

“I just don’t like pills.”

There. She’d said it. This was ridiculous. A grown woman who couldn’t swallow pills.

Utterly humiliating.

“You don’t like pills,” he repeated, sounding dumbfounded.

“No. I have trouble swallowing them. My, uh, my parents didn’t often give me painkillers. They didn’t really believe in them.”

“They didn’t believe in them?”

“How long are you going to keep repeating what I say?” she asked.

“I suppose until what you say starts making sense,” he muttered. “What kind of parents wouldn’t give you painkillers?”

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