Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Whoa.” I patted his arm. “Take a step back.”
He swung his gaze to me, and I almost shrank away. Furious Aiden was intimidating.
The doctor walked into the room, smiling.
“Dr. Springfield,” I said, having been treated by him more than once.
“Hello, young lady. Now you’re getting hit by arrows?” He moved toward me and peered into my eyes. Dr. Springfield looked as close to a Santa Claus as possible with his white hair and beard and was known to play the part during Christmas with a group of his friends called the Kringles. “Let’s talk about how you’re feeling.”
Aiden stood. “I have a couple of phone calls to make. I’ll be right outside.” He went into the hallway.
Pierce watched him go and then cut a look at me.
“I’m not sure I’ve seen him this angry in a while,” I said.
Pierce nodded. “He’s going scorched earth. I’ll go talk to him.” He disappeared out the door.
“So,” Dr. Springfield said, “injury by arrow. You do like to make my job interesting, don’t you?”
Aiden carried me out of the hospital against the rather loud wishes of the nurse, who insisted I sit in a wheelchair. All bundled up in my older gray coat, I snuggled into his chest, ignoring her protests. His body was hard against me and very hot—I could almost feel the fire inside him.
His movements were uber-gentle as he settled me in the front seat of his truck and turned on the seat warmer before driving carefully out of the hospital parking lot and toward our little lake.
I wasn’t sure how to handle him in this mood.
Heck. I didn’t know how to define this mood.
He seemed extra cautious, avoiding ice and potholes, no doubt to keep from jostling me. I appreciated his carefulness but still didn’t feel any pain in my arm. My knee ached, but the doctor had given me a pain pill, and I’d happily downed it.
I searched to find a way to see what Aiden was thinking. “Do you believe the news will get ahold of this?”
“Definitely,” he said, turning down his driveway. “I already talked to your dad. He’ll spread the word to the family that you’re fine and recuperating at my place. I bought you a day or so.”
I loved how he’d taken care of that for me. Should I feel guilty? I mean, it was my family.
We reached the cabin, and he stopped the truck and jumped out, crossing around to lift me out and into the snowy night. He kind of curled his body over me to protect me from the wind and snow, quickly striding up the porch and keying in the code.
Once inside, he strode through the vacant living room to the bedroom. “We really need furniture. Hold on for a second. I’ll build a fire in the other room.” He gently placed me on the bed and removed my boots before turning away and leaving the room.
I shivered. The guy seemed to be moving on autopilot. Gingerly, I removed my coat, leaving me in my bra and skirt. The nurse had apparently cut off my shirt.
Aiden returned, caught sight of me, and his blue eyes flared. But he silently fetched one of his overlarge T-shirts from a basket on the floor and moved to me, flicking open my bra. Still not saying a word, he slid one strap down and then lifted the other over the bandage on my shoulder before pulling the shirt over my head.
I slipped my good arm through and then held my breath as he helped me get my other one into place. The soft cotton fell over me. Using one hand, I grasped the waist of the skirt and shoved it down. Aiden finished removing it and tossed it toward the basket. Then he helped me under the covers and settled several pillows behind my back so I could sit comfortably.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“No.” I swallowed. “Aiden?”
He looked at me, but it was like he was looking through me. “What?”
“What’s wrong?”
He blinked. Twice. “Wrong?”
Adrenaline fought with the pain pill in my system, and I couldn’t figure out why. “I’m having trouble reading you. It’s scaring me.”
He recoiled like I’d hit him. Finally, his gaze focused on me. “Don’t be frightened. I’m pissed, Angel. It’s that simple.”
Yeah, I’d seen him mad before. “This seems different.”
His chin lifted. “A guy shot you with a fucking arrow. He aimed to kill you.”
Pierce’s scorched-earth comment swam through my head. “The police will find him.”
“Not if I do first.”
Ah. Hmm. Okay. “You need to remember that you’re an ATF agent, not a vigilante.” When we met, he’d been undercover as the leader of a motorcycle club that made its own rules. I believe he was so successful in that role because part of him had that wildness. The ability to create his own laws and live by them. “You love your job.”