Page 117 of His Greatest Muse

“Very.”

“Good. Now, let me check your side. You weren’t exactly keeping still.” I shoot him a glare and then switch my attention to the bandage covering what I know is a deep, jagged wound. When I see it hasn’t turned red, I relax. “I should have the nurses come in and check you over.”

“Absolutely fucking not. They can stay away from us until the morning. Longer, if possible.”

“I hope you haven’t been rude to them today. They’re keeping you in one piece for me.”

The thought of him getting an infection or winding up back in surgery makes me break out in a cold sweat. It’s not something I can consider right now. I’m barely holding myself together as it is.

“They’re overbearing.”

With quick movements, I have his pants back up and the blanket around his waist. “Well, I’m grateful for them. They gave us time alone just now, didn’t they?”

“It’s not enough.”

“I know.”

His eyes tighten at the corners with defiance. The hint of arousal skips through them, and I can’t help but wish for more too. The ache between my legs is insistent and beyond annoying, but I refuse to put his body under any more stress. I already risked enough just now. Plus, seeing him experience that blast of pleasure is more than enough for me.

“It won’t be long until the police force their way back into the picture,” I add in an attempt to change the subject to one that can dull my blinding lust for him.

His features darken at the mention of them. “I don’t have anything to say to them. I’ve contacted a PI. That’s all there is right now.”

“Are you sure that’s how you want to handle this? Do you trust this PI? Who is it? When did you get in contact with them?”

His throat bobs with a hard swallow as he shakes his head. “We’re not talking about this tonight. Not on your birthday.”

“It’s hardly still my birthday.”

Lifting his arm expectantly, he scowls at me. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

I don’t move toward him yet, and he doesn’t drop his arm. “Promise me? Because we can’t keep putting it off.”

“I promise,” he grumbles.

Satisfied enough with that, I settle beneath his arm and smile when he begins tapping that same beat against my skin again.

43

BRADEN

I flagthe man that glides past me into Noah’s room and sit straighter in my chair. With his head held high and hands in his pockets, he appears at ease, but I’ve spent enough of my life reading opponents in the ring to know better. I’ve never seen him before. He’s a stranger to me, and that’s a good enough reason to follow him. My daughter is in that room, and with the threat of a stalker hanging over her, I won’t risk anything happening under my watch.

Stretching the sore muscles in my neck from sitting here for two straight days, I follow the man into the room, trying to muffle my steps as much as I can. When I reach the doorway, the sight of him standing at the edge of Noah’s bed, staring at the couple splayed across it, makes me clear my throat, announcing my presence.

“Who are you?” I bark.

Three sets of eyes glance my way. Tiny worries her lip while Noah stares blankly. The stranger examines me, curiosity curving a thick brow. His hair is long and flops in his face. It would make him appear young if his bright blue eyes didn’t hold such heaviness. He can’t be much older than either of the kids in here.

“You must be the father,” he greets me with a smooth nonchalance.

I cross my arms. “And you must be lost.”

“I think I’m in the right place.”

“Name. Now.”

He turns his head to look at Noah with an exasperated expression. “Tell your father-in-law to relax. I’m not the enemy.”

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