Page 62 of Possessed By You
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Darcy.”
I feel a hand on my face, pushing my hair from my eyes.
“Darcy, can you hear me?”
Dimitri is looking down at me with wide eyes. I quickly realize I’m wrapped in only a towel. “Wha—”
“You fainted.”
I sit up, steadying myself on the mattress, careful to cover myself with the towel.
He helps me sit. “You’re extremely pale, Darcy.”
“I don’t feel very good right now,” I whisper, noticing how badly I’m shaking.
“I’m calling a doctor. Where is the number? Do you know it?”
I point to my bag. He takes out my prescription bottle and notes the number, tapping the digits onto his cell phone.
“Hello? Doctor Trigiani? I’m the security for Mrs. Darcy Scott.” He nods. “Yes, I just found her unconscious. She’s awake now, but she doesn’t look well. She’s shaking extremely bad too…Yes. Yes. Okay. Thank you.”
He hangs up, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “She’s coming.”
He opens my drawer, taking a nightgown from my delicates drawer. My arms have numbed, and I can barely move them. He notices my rising panic at the loss of function.
He turns around, holding up the black garment. “I can help you, Darcy. It’s all right.”
He lifts the material over my head, pulling my damp hair through the neckline. I’m grateful as he holds up my arms and guides them under the straps. He positions his hands under my arms, lifting me up enough to move me back against the headboard.
“Do you know why you fainted? What are you feeling?”
“It may be the iron deficiency. I don’t know. I’ve felt fine.”
He nods, covering my body with the throw at the end of the bed.
“How did you know I was here?”
“You’ve been gone for a while. I’ve been calling for hours. Benjamin’s worried sick.”
“Please don’t tell him.”
“Darcy, please don’t ask me to do that.”
I don’t have it in me to fight him right now.
Apparently I drifted off, and I awake when a cold hand touches my forehead. It’s Doctor Trigiani, dressed in casual attire.
“Hello, Darcy. Dimitri tells me you fainted. How are you feeling?” She reaches into her bag. “You’re running a fever. I have you hooked into an IV. You’ve been staying in the hospital, I hear? You were supposed to be resting.”
“I know.”
Dimitri appears in the doorway, holding a bag of take-out. He removes a container of soup.
“When will I be okay to get up?” I ask as she presses her fingers to my wrist, checking my pulse.
“Oh, you’ll be on bedrest for a few days.”
