Page 76 of Heart of Stone (Dark Billionaires)

Hour by hour.

Nothing could have prepared Kate for the sight of Warren’s bed being wheeled back into the room. A posse of medical staff accompanied him, but it was the tubes that drew her eye. Tubes coming from his nose. Tubes coming from his mouth. Tubes coming from the foot-long gash travelling from his diaphragm to his navel.

With the kitten tattoo perched on his heart, as always.

She broke into sobs, not even trying to stop herself from hyperventilating. Her efforts would have been wasted. Usually, she cared for Warren during the day, saving up all her tears for the shower.

Because going back to the house was somehow worse than being in the hospital. Despite there being Saffron and an in-house security team, the property was empty without Warren. Last night, even the sight of his shower prosthetic had her bursting into tears.

Another reminder that he wasn’t there.

“He should wake up soon,” Farida said kindly. She was one of the nurses that had cared for Warren most often during the three-week nightmare they’d all endured. “But we’ll be watching him from the nurse’s station,” she pointed to the little desk that had a direct view into Warren’s room. “All right?”

Alison and Sarah both nodded and thanked the nursing team, but Kate just sniffed, taking her permanent position next to Warren’s head. And avoiding the monitor that she cracked her skull on at least once a day.

True enough, after a terse twenty-minute wait, Warren’s bleary eyes opened, peering around the bright hospital room.

Kate’s first words were more of a grief-stricken noise than actual speech, but she took a second attempt. “You’re awake.”

He blinked slowly, but the hard-edged grin was all Warren. “I’m awake. I’m sore, but I’m awake.”

Alison and Sarah dived in then, the former asking all sorts of medical questions. It was a relief to know that, prior to becoming a midwife, Alison had worked as a nurse for a brief period. As a result, she’d be able to recognise if anything was ‘off.’

Or that was Kate’s reasoning, anyway.

Kate simply sat on Warren’s other side, holding his hand and pressing the occasional kiss to his knuckles—albeit through her facemask. Unable to think of anything other thanwe nearly lost you.

Abrin.

That, apparently, was the cause of all the turmoil. A toxin she’d never heard of before, but it had almost taken the person she loved most in the world.

It had been a week since Warren’s liver transplant, and Kate had read everything she could about abrin. The nurses had told them that there was no definitive test for the poison, but after reviewing Warren’s symptoms and his blood results, that was the hypothesis they were going with.

The nurses had also told them that Warren’s exposure was unlikely to be accidental.

Even now, the night before Warren would be discharged from hospital, Kate could see the broad shoulders of a security guard lurking outside the room. Each day was the same. A security guard would be here twenty-four hours a day, and when visiting hours were over, another would arrive to escort Kate, Alison, and Mattie home—and sometimes Sarah too, when she was feeling up to it.

Today was no different. At eight o’clock in the evening, the three of them readied themselves to leave the hospital. Their facemasks prevented them from kissing Warren goodbye, but given that Warren was now on immunosuppressants, all of them understood the need for physical distance.

Kate waited until the others had cleared the room before saying her goodbyes. “Promise me you’ll be here in the morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to go home.”

He snorted weakly. “I promise I will be in the building in the morning.”

She knew exactly what he was implying. “The morgue doesn’t count.”

“You’re no fun.” His thumb slid across the back of her hand.

“I need you.” Tears came to her unbidden; they seemed to have become a permanent fixture recently. “In the space of—what—three months, you’ve tunnelled your way into my heart.” She gasped out a watery laugh. “And I’m keeping you there, I hope you know.”

“Kitten…” he said tenderly.

She squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to say anything, Warren. I just want you to know; I need you. I have done since you stormed into your room that first night.”

A quirked eyebrow signalled his doubt. “Even when I pinned you against the wall?”

Though he couldn’t see it, the sly smile beneath her face mask was filthy. “Especiallywhen you pinned me against the wall.”

“My dirty, dirty kitten.”

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