Page 33 of Hidden Shadows
She leaned over to check her phone. Perhaps she’d forgotten to put it on silent and someone had texted?
Nope. The screen was black. It was switched off.
Could it have been nothing? It had taken her ages to fall asleep after that kiss on the sleigh ride with Nixon. Maybe she was just unsettled.
She dropped back onto the plush mattress. God, maybe with everything that was going on, she was just losing her damn—
A noise sounded from Nixon’s room.
She shot up into a sitting position. It almost sounded like a growl.
Her pulse sped up, the deep thuds of her heart loud in her ears.
When it sounded again, this time louder, her breath caught. The sound was almost pained. Shuffling noises came next.
Her heart catapulted into her throat. Oh God, had someone broken into his room? Had someone attacked him, possibly while he was sleeping?
Moving on instinct, she climbed out of bed and walked silently to the connecting door. She was about to open it but stopped. If there was an intruder, she’d be an easy target. She needed a weapon.
She scanned the room, desperately looking for something. Anything. There was nothing. Absolutely—
Curtain rail. It wasn’t optimal, but there was nothing else. It wasn’t like the hotel kept knives in the rooms.
Quickly, she grabbed a chair and pushed it to the window. Once she was standing on the chair, she took the rod off the hooks, then slipped off the curtain. The rod was short but heavy and had a fancy point at the end. If she stabbed it at the attacker’s ribs, it could do some serious damage.
Tightening her fingers around it, she rushed back to the door just as more rustling and growls sounded. Her heart gave one more hard thump—then she wrenched open the door, expecting to see movement and fighting. Expecting danger to surround her.
Instead, the room was dark and still.
When another growl came, her attention shot to the bed.
Nixon had kicked all the blankets down, and he was thrashing, his eyes closed. The look on his face…God, it was all pain.
Nixon…
For a moment, she stayed completely still, feet rooted to the spot, unsure whether to leave him and hope he came out of it or try to wake him.
When his head thrashed to the side again, a tortured groan tearing from his throat, she lowered the rod to the floor and climbed onto the bed.
She reached out to touch him, then pulled her arm back.
God, she had no idea what to do! There was every chance touching the man could make it worse.
“Nixon.” She wasn’t loud, but she wasn’t quiet either.
He didn’t stir. Not even a flicker of his eyelids.
She swallowed and lightly touched his shoulder. “Nixon.”
Again, nothing.
The next sound he made was worse than the others. It sounded like it was torn from somewhere deep inside him.
Her heart cracked for the man.
Shit…she had to try something else. When he rolled to his side, facing her, she lay down beside him, shuffling so close she could see every line of pain on his face. Carefully, she placed a hand on his cheek and touched her forehead to his.
God, he was hot. And sweat beaded every inch of his skin.
