Page 246 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
“Not too much.” His voice is a soft, nurturing purr. “You need to give your stomach a chance to adjust.”
I pout when he pulls the half-empty cup away from my still-parched mouth, but my pulse quickens when he mutters, “If you drop that lip again, I’ll bite it.”
He lifts a remote, the cords of which are twisted around the steel railing of the bed, to recline the top half of the mattress. “Is that better?” he asks once I’m in a half-seated position.
I nod, ignoring the swirling my stomach is doing from the gluttonous gulps of water I swallowed.
As always, Isaac senses my discomfort. “Are you in pain?”
I shake my head. “No.”
His dark brow arches high, calling out my deceit.
“The water is a little sloshy in my belly.”
His lips set into a hard line. “I’ll get the doctor.”
Before I can object, he moves to a closed glass-paneled door. While he fetches the doctor, I lower my blurry eyes to my body, seeking hints as to why I am in the hospital. Other than wearing a blue hospital gown and having an IV line inserted into my wrist, I appear unharmed. I scan the room. There are a blood pressure machine and heart monitor to my right, an IV stand with two bags of clear fluids to my left, and numerous bunches of floral arrangements on every flat surface in the room.
My eyes stray to the side when a doctor wearing pink scrubs and a white coat enters the room with Isaac. Her dark brown, nearly black hair is secured into place with two pens. She has a lovely Asian appearance with bright green eyes. Her skin is flawless, her cheekbones are high, and her thin, pink lips are glossy.
“How are you feeling?” My brows scrunch, surprised by the uniqueness of her heavily drawled accent. She smiles at my reaction. “My mom is Korean, my dad is Australian, but they’ve lived in Texas for over thirty years. I'm a little mix of them both… my mom’s looks and my dad’s accent.”
My heart warms to the stranger. Her aura is just like Harlow’s, and I can tell if given the opportunity, we could become great friends.
“You sustained a traumatic concussion when part of your temporal skull hit the concrete during impact,” she advises while pulling a white ophthalmoscope from the pocket of her coat.
My eyes shoot across the room when Isaac’s attempt to suppress a groan is futile. He scrubs his hand along the thick stubble on his jaw as guilt hampers his usually tempting gaze.
“I'd choose to sustain a concussion over a bullet wound any day, Isaac,” the doctor mumbles as she flicks a bright light in front of my eyes. White lights dance around the room for several seconds when she returns the flashlight to her pocket. “Your optic and oculomotor nerves appear to be functioning accurately.”
I wince as a sharp, jolting pain radiates through my head when she pushes on the right side of my skull, just behind my ear. “Sorry.” She continues her assessment. “The area of impact will be tender for a few more days.” She shifts her gaze to Isaac, who is standing beside me. “Ensure she's administered pain relief every four to six hours but steer clear of anything aspirin-related. I’ll also give you a prescription for a stronger dosage of pain medication, but it runs the risk of increasing her nausea and fatigue.” Her gaze turns back to me. “Only use it if you feel the pain is becoming too much for you to handle.”
I nod as Isaac moves closer to my bedside. “Isabelle is having some issues with her memory.”
The doctor smiles to ease the panic fettering his face. “That isn’t unusual for someone who sustained a level three concussion. Her CT scan came up clear. There's no bleeding or swelling of the brain. Symptoms of a concussion can clear within minutes, hours, days, or even a week. Unfortunately, it is just a waiting game, but until all the symptoms of your concussion are gone, you can’t return to your normal activities.” Her smile merges into a full-toothed grin. “That includes vigorous bedroom activities.”
I squirm as my knees meet. Just the idea of undertaking any bedroom activities with Isaac has my inner vixen climbing out of the pit she entrenched herself in two weeks ago. The dryness impinging my throat earlier returns full force when I spot the devilishly delicious smile curved on Isaac’s mouth. His eyes consume me, touch not required to ignite every nerve in my body.
Our lust-filled stare-down is interrupted when the doctor giggles. I cringe, mortified I forgot she was here. I shouldn’t be surprised. When Isaac is in the room, no one else matters. They're nothing but white noise in the background.
After removing my IV, the doctor says, “Give me a few hours to do a complete set of monitoring on your condition. I want to make sure I haven’t missed anything. If it all goes okay, you can be discharged later tonight or maybe tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you.”
She smiles before running her hand down Isaac’s arm in a comforting manner. Surprisingly, I don’t feel the slightest bit of jealousy from her gesture. I can see her fondness for Isaac is just like Regan’s. They're friends, nothing more.
When she exits the door, Isaac’s focus returns to me. My thighs quake when he stealthily prowls to me. “I'll explain everything that happened…” A glint in his eyes stimulates my core. “… after I kiss you. It’s been too darn long since I’ve tasted your lips.”
Before I can protest—not that I was going to—his lips seal over mine. His kiss is soft and sweet but laced with the promise of something greater to come. Even in my concussed state, I know we have a lot of unresolved issues we need to discuss, but after everything we’ve been through this weekend, I no longer have the energy to fight a war bigger than us both.
I cup his jaw so I can kiss him with just as much tenderness as he's bestowing on me. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me closer as his tongue delves into my mouth, sampling and savoring every inch like he's starved for my taste. My breathing deepens when he adjusts my position, so his thickened rod braces along my stomach.
Our kiss grows more passionate when I weave my fingers through his thick, luxurious hair. I pull him nearer, deepening our kiss. The playful, tantalizing embrace has my womb coiling with every nip and stroke inflicted.
A shameful whimper rumbles from my tingling lips when he inches back from our embrace. His heavy-lidded eyes shift between mine as he caresses my left cheek. “You scared me, Isabelle. I’ve never been scared before, but when Col pulled out his gun and aimed it at you, for the first time in my life, I was truly scared.”
Warm tears slide down my cheeks from the genuine fear relayed in his beautiful eyes, but I remain quiet, exulted that a man as guarded as Isaac is opening up to me.
