Page 48 of Final Exit

“Thank you,” he whispered. And then he kissed her the way he’d wanted to from the moment he’d first looked into those incredible green eyes, and had felt her curvy little body beneath his.

The kiss was hot and wet and went from zero to sixty in the space of a breath. The mattress dipped as Bailey climbed up beside him, pressing her body tightly against his. Their tongues tangled together in a wild, wicked dance that sent his pulse rushing in his ears and had him hard and aching and wanting more, so much more. By the time they broke apart, they were both gasping for breath and his head was spinning.

Actually, the room was spinning.

He groaned and fell back against the pillows, squeezing his eyes shut to fight back a wave of nausea.

“Seriously?” She demanded, swatting his shoulder. “I kiss you and it makes you sick? Un-freaking-believable.” The mattress dipped again as she climbed off the bed.

He risked opening one eye and grabbed her wrist before she could get away.

She jerked her arm. “Let me go.”

“Wait, please, don’t leave.” His stomach clenched. He closed both eyes, drew a deep breath, then another. “I’m sorry, Bailey. That kiss was incredible. You’re incredible. I just... need a minute. The room moves every time I open my eyes. Just... wait, okay?”

She bent his finger backward.

“Ouch.” He swore and let her go.

Her footsteps echoed on the floor as she strode out of the room. Damn, he’d sure screwed that up. He tried to sit up, to go after her. His stomach lurched and he fell back against the pillows, groaning.

Footsteps sounded from the other room. She’d probably grabbed her gun, to pay him back for insulting her.

A heavy sigh sounded from beside the bed. “Come on, G-man. Drink.” A straw was pressed against his lips. “You’re probably dehydrated. That’s why you’re nauseated. I tried to get you to sip fluids earlier but I gave up after half drowning you a couple of times.”

He greedily drank the entire glass.

“Better?” she asked.

“Getting there. Thanks.”

A thump told him she’d set the glass down on the bedside table. “If you keep thanking me all the time you’ll ruin my badass reputation.”

“I’ll be extremely careful not to thank you in public.”

“Damn straight.” She adjusted the sheet, pulling it up higher on his chest.

He thought she’d leave then. But she didn’t. She sat with him until the nausea settled down, until he’d taken the pain pills she brought him. And until he’d assured her half a dozen times that he was fine.

After extracting his promise to eat if she made some soup, she finally left. A few minutes later, after some wobbly first attempts, he’d wrapped a sheet around his hips and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

Once he was clean and had downed an entire bowl of tomato soup, he felt human again. He sat propped up with some pillows against the headboard while Bailey sat cross-legged beside him.

“Howdidyou manage to get me from the bathroom floor onto the bed after I’d passed out?” he asked. “You’re probably a hundred pounds soaking wet. I’m twice that.”

She rolled her eyes and flexed her impressive biceps. “I’m not a hundred pounds. And don’t you dare ask me what I really weigh.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She smiled. “It wasn’t as hard as you think. Once I got the bleeding under control, I rolled you onto a sheet and dragged you into the hallway. I figured I’d sew you up there where I had more room to work. But you woke up just enough that I was able to badger you into getting to your feet and climbing into bed, with some help of course. After that—” she shrugged “—it was a matter of cutting off your clothes and sewing you up.”

She arched a perfectly shaped brow. “And bathing you of course. Didn’t want to risk infection. It was a chore, but someone had to do it.”

He coughed and cleared his throat. The thought of her sliding a wet washcloth over his skin had all kinds of erotic thoughts flashing through his mind.

“Your leg hurts again?” she asked.

He frowned, then realized he was massaging his bad leg. He forced his hand to his side. “Habit. I’m fine.” At her disbelieving look, he said, “Really. It doesn’t hurt. Much.” He cocked his head, studying her. “If you’re not careful, Bailey, I’ll think you’re starting to like me.”

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