Page 5 of His Little Sapphire

He lifts a brow. “Okay, then I’ll try out both before I settle on one.”

I suck in a breath. He speaks as if we’re now going to be spending time together, and he’ll use some of that time to decide what to call me. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.

“I want to help you up, Christine, but I really need you to tell me what hurts first so I don’t cause further injury.”

I twist slightly in every direction and wince. “I think I bruised my hip. That’s all. I don’t think anything is broken.”

“Good. I hope so. Surgient is on his way here. He’ll examine you. Let’s get you moved and cleaned up first.”

“Who’s Surgient?”

“The main doctor on the starship.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine. Really I don’t need a doctor.” I can’t afford a doctor. I don’t even have insurance. I shove at his hand to dislodge it, but he doesn’t budge.

Instead, Strogan brings his other hand around and sets both on my hips, giving a gentle squeeze.

I wince.

He looks at my face. “We’ll get a scan. I think we should do that before I move you. Just to be safe. If anything is broken, I could injure you further moving you.”

I groan and use all my energy to scoot back, push to sitting, and stick my good leg under me to stand. Seconds later, I’m on my feet.

“Chrissy…” Strogan reprimands as he shoves to his feet too. He hovers over me, at least two feet taller than my five-four.

I hold out my arms. “See? I’m fine?” I’m gritting my teeth. My hip hurts. It’s not broken though. I would know that. It’s just sore.

Strogan reaches out and touches the back of my head. “Did you hit your head?”

“No.”

He rounds behind me. “You’re soaked, Little one. The floor is covered in sewage. It’s all over you.”

I wince. “I know.”

He touches my coiled braid at the base of my neck. “Your hair is soaked.”

I also smell like a combination of beer and wine and what amounted to a Long Island Tea. I need to get cleaned up so I can finish my shift. I don’t have spare clothes, but hopefully I can dab at this mess in the bathroom and wash off my arms and face so I can finish my job.

I take a step and wince. My hip hurts. But I need to get moving. Aiming for the bathroom, I take a second step, but a strong arm comes around my waist, stopping me.

“Where are you going, Little one?”

“Bathroom.” The air seems to leave my lungs. He’s so close and so big. He’s breathing on my neck, which means he’s leaning down.

“I’ll take you upstairs and give you a bath.”

I gasp. His words make no sense. Suddenly, I’m lightheaded, and I lean to one side. Strogan doesn’t let me fall though. He’s got me. In fact, before I know what’s happening, he swoops down and lifts me into his arms, cradling me against his chest.

The room spins. I can’t fight him because my balance is out of whack, and I’m not sure which way is up or down. I can argue though. “What are you doing? Put me down. I need to get back to work.”

He holds me tighter, moving now, out from behind the bar and across the room.

“Is she okay?” the other man asks.

“I think she’s exhausted,” Strogan says. “She has vertigo.”

I do? He’s right about the first part. I’m exhausted. And if he’s been watching me work for several days, he probably knows this fact well. He’s so comfortable too. He’s holding me like a baby, cradling me against him so I can’t possibly fall or escape. I’m not sure I want to.

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