Page 84 of The Scandal You Started
Dominic
Dominic stirred awake with a heavy exhale, blinking tiredly into the darkness shrouding his bedroom. He swallowed around the slight rawness in his throat, not nearly as bad as it had been the past few days, but he required water to soothe it.
His fever had settled sometime during the last forty-eight hours, but there was a lingering weariness in his limbs as he rolled over. He braced himself on one forearm and searched forthe switch of the bedside lamp. It clicked on, and he squinted as its bright yellow light blinded him.
Once his eyes adjusted, rather than settling on the jug of water and glass, his gaze flicked to the navy-blue armchair beside his bed. And widened as lips parted in surprise.
Rayna sat sound asleep in the chair, her legs tucked under her on the seat, hands curled in her lap, and her head resting against its velvet, curved back.
In the light, her wavy, rosewood hair glowed with a deep red hue, individual strands shining different shades of red and brown. One set of long lashes cast a shadow against her illuminated skin, and her cheekbone faintly glimmered as if someone had painted her in gold.
But no blanket covered her. She wore nothing but an oversized T-shirt, bunched around the very top of her thighs.
“Sweetheart,” he rasped.
What was she doing sleeping like that?
He was sure she’d insulted him and stomped out of his room hours earlier when he’d commanded her to go rest in her own bed since he was feeling much better. So why on Neves was she back in the chair? It couldn’t have been comfortable, and he couldn’t allow that.
Drawing his hand back from the lamp, Dominic pushed himself further upright before throwing the thin blanket off his legs. He stood from the edge of the mattress and hovered over his beautiful Rayna, an acute, tender ache scratching at his heart.
Gosh, she was so…
Rayna had spent the last five days tending to him, all hours of the day, keeping him fed and offering him a constant supply of liquid and medicine. As much as he’d loved the way she cared for him, being sick and forced to rely on her had become rather frustrating and embarrassing. He was supposed to be the onelooking after her, not the other way around. His only comfort was that she hadn’t done it all alone.
Ash, as his POTeM doctor, had come to check on him twice, as had Benedict when he hadn’t been working at the hospital. Winnie had brought over food a few evenings, and Declan had helped Rayna change Dominic’s bedsheets and clean the house. Even Victor and George had popped over, both during the day and in the evening with dinner.
But Rayna had been there constantly throughout it all. She’d wiped him when he’d been covered in sweat and lain with him when he’d been shivering. And while River had taken care of him when she’d been at the museum the past two days, in the evenings she’d fussed over him, snapped at him, and laughed with him all the same—without resting herself.
By now, she ought to have been fatigued. But there she was, sleeping in a chair rather than in the comfort and space of her own bed.
His mouth crooked slightly, and he sighed. “You stubborn little witch.”
Dominic eyed her for a moment, trying to decide how to scoop her up without waking her, but her position made that a slim possibility. Nonetheless, he hooked his left arm around her back and swiftly lifted her, tucking his other arm under her knees.
She woke with a slight jolt, and he stopped moving, cradling her close to his bare chest in the hopes she’d lull back to sleep. But she shifted and tipped her chin, her eyes barely open.
“Dominic?”
“Hush,” he crooned. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”
With a tired sigh, she plonked her chin where his neck met his shoulder and relaxed into him. “Did you…did you need something?”
Bloody woods, sleepy Rayna was endearing; she had him grinning like a fool.
“Nothing at all.”
He turned them towards the bed, laid her down on the far edge of his pillow, and tucked her under the blanket. She snuggled into the mattress, searching for a comfortable position, while he filled a glass of water. He drank half, then climbed in beside her. After switching the lamp off, he wrapped her in his arms, tucking her head under his chin.
She let out a soft moan, rubbing her cheek against his hairy chest, and a filthy kind of heat entwined with the adoration already filling his veins. It couldn’t be helped. He was merely a red-blooded man, and she was a delectable woman. She’d never not stir desire within him.
“Rayna.” Her name fell stifled and groaned from his lips.
“Hmm?” she hummed absently.
His shoulders shook with a chuckle. “Nothing.” He placed a kiss to the top of her head. “Rest, my sweet darling.”
“’Kay.”
