Page 11 of Hostile Extraction

A maid rushed forward with an ice pack.

“Thank you, Anita.” Nico took it and carefully held it against her foot, which was already beginning to show signs of bruising and swelling. He glanced up to see her eyes glaze. “I’m sure the doctor will give you something for pain. He’ll be here soon.”

Good to his word, the man showed up not ten minutes later. He was on a high retainer and took care of anything Nico needed, including keeping him supplied in scripts for the girls.

Nico stood and shook his hand. “Dr. Ruiz, this is Asia. She’s injured her ankle.”

“Hello, Asia.”

“Hello, Doctor.”

The man kneeled and examined her ankle, taking her foot in his hand. “Tell me if this hurts.” He began to move it.

She jerked. “There.”

“Yes, I see. I don’t believe it’s broken. I think it’s just badly sprained, but if you wish, we can take her into the ER and have radiology—”

“No, I’m sure you’re right,” Nico cut him off, then looked at Asia. “Don’t you agree, darling?”

“Well…”

“I’m sure if you give it a day, you’ll feel better.”

“If you think so, dear,” Asia conceded.

Nico patted her shoulder. “I’m sure of it. And Dr. Ruiz will give you something to make you feel better. Won’t you, doctor?”

“Of course, Mr. Amorosi. Let me wrap the ankle, and then I’ll do that.”

Nico stood back while the doctor wrapped her ankle, then pulled out a syringe and a vial. “This will ease the pain and help you to rest, Asia. I’ll come around and check on you tomorrow.” He looked at Nico. “She should keep icing it in fifteen-minute intervals every two to three hours.”

“I’ll see to it myself.”

Dr. Ruiz glanced at Asia, who was already nodding off. “She’ll sleep for hours.”

“How long before she’s back to normal?” Nico asked.

“It’s hard to say. Each individual heals differently.”

“When will she be able to walk without a limp?” he snapped.

The doctor straightened. “It could be four to six weeks.”

Nico ran a hand over his hair, thinking of all the plans this screwed up. “Christ.”

“Well, if that’ll be all…” the doctor trailed off, and Nico jerked his head toward the door, dismissing the man.

He glared at his guards. “You were supposed to watch her. Imbeciles, all of you.” The men took a step back, and Nico strode past them and through the penthouse to the living room.

Giselle reclined in the corner of the large leather sectional, her legs crossed, her Jimmy Choo’s kicked off on the floor, and a cigarette in her hand. “How is she?”

“Her ankle is badly sprained. The doctor said she won’t be able to put weight on it for days. It won’t be healed for a couple of weeks.”

“She won’t be fit for this month’s auction.”

“I know that. Dammit.” Nico moved to stand at the windows, staring out at the ocean. Finally, he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Giselle blew smoke toward the ceiling. “What do you want to do?”

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