Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
But before they made it there, she saw Jameson walking toward them.
“You texted him, didn’t you?” She glared over her shoulder at Ian.
“I just need to know we’re making the right choice. This is your health, Little girl.”
“I knew I should have brought Jack,” she muttered.
“Jack would have done the same.”
Hmm. She wasn’t so sure about that.
“Good morning, Ian. Maggie. How are you today?”
“I’m not doing the MRI scan,” she blurted out. “No one can make me. Ian promised.”
Ian sighed behind her.
“Why don’t we talk for a moment? Come with me.” Jameson led them into a consultation room.
Jameson grabbed a chair and turned it to face her. She picked at a thread in her horrible hospital gown.
“Maggie, can you look at me, please.”
Even though he said please and worded it like a question, it definitely was not.
“I don’t want you to do that Dom voodoo on me,” she muttered.
“Dom voodoo?” he asked, sounding amused.
“Yeah, where you make me look at you, and suddenly, I’m agreeing to do something I don’t want to do.”
“Please, Shortcake.”
She let out a deep breath and looked up into his kind eyes. Shoot.
“Still not doing it.”
“All right. Can you tell me why?” Jameson asked.
“There’s no point. Besides, my insurance might not cover it.”
“And if I said there is no charge because you’re here as a guest of the royal family and that the point is to rule out any damage to your hip . . . what would you say?”
“I’d tell you that it isn’t attractive to have an answer to everything.”
He just gave her a lighter version of the ‘the look.’
“Why don’t you want the MRI? And I want the truth this time.” Firm. Unyielding.
Monkeyballs.
That tone of voice made her want to confess everything. So that’s what she did.
“When my sister turned twelve, I licked some of the icing off her cake and smoothed it back over. And when my brother was kissing his date in the living room when he was supposed to be looking after me, I set off the smoke alarm.”
And was no one going to stop her talking?
“That’s all very interesting, sweetheart.” Jameson patted her hand. Was he fighting a smile? “But still not what we’re talking about. Why are you scared of the MRI?”
“I don’t like small spaces. Well, small spaces where I feel trapped. Especially if they move. I don’t like lifts. And MRI scanners are worse. I have to stay still and I’m trapped and it’s cold and I just won’t.” Her breath stuttered in and out of her lungs.
This is ridiculous, Maggie.
It’s just a freaking machine. It can’t hurt you.
After everything she’d been through . . . the pain, the recovery, you’d think this would be nothing.
“Jameson,” Ian growled, moving toward her. “We’re leaving.”
Relief filled her.
“Wait.” Jameson held up his hand to Ian. “Give me a moment.”
“Fix this, or I’m taking her out of here. Now.”
The big guy was pacing the room, looking upset.
“Maggie, I didn’t say you could look away from me,” Jameson said firmly.
Whoa. His voice packed a real punch.
“Shit. I see why you pulled back,” Ian muttered.
Huh?
“Be quiet, Ian. I need Maggie to focus on me.”
Her gaze went back to his.
“Well done, sweetheart.”
When he praised her, it made her want to curl up in his lap and give him anything he wanted.
It was dangerous. Decadent.
And she wanted more.
“I want you to calm your breathing for me,” Jameson said in a low, commanding voice. “Take a deep breath and then I’m going to count as you let it out. In. Good. Now out, one, two, three, four, five. That’s it.”
“I’m not having a panic attack,” she told him.
At least, she didn’t think she was. She hadn’t gone all hot then cold. The room wasn’t spinning. Her breath wasn’t trapped in her lungs.
“You were on the verge of one,” he explained in that same calm voice.
“I’m still not going in that machine,” she said.
He narrowed his gaze and she glanced up at Ian for back-up.
“Uh-uh. No. Eyes back to me.” Jameson’s voice was adamant and had her immediately paying attention to him. “Good girl. You weren’t given permission to look away from me.”
“I don’t think I need permission to look away from you.” She wrinkled her nose, but didn’t look away.
“You do right now.”
“Jesus,” Ian muttered.
“Ian, you need to be quiet or leave.”
It was all too much. She loved the way Jameson was taking charge. His Dom voice. But she couldn’t give in.
So, instead of behaving and following his commands like she really wanted to, she put her hand up to the side of her mouth. “He’ll find that hard. Mr. Chatterbox, that one.”
“Maggie.”
That one word in that tone completely stole her sass. She bit her lip, glancing at Jameson worriedly.
“Everything is going to be all right, sweetheart,” he said soothingly. “But I want you to concentrate on me.” Jameson took her hands in his. “Your hands are freezing.” Getting up, he grabbed a blanket from a cupboard and placed it over her legs. “Why didn’t you say something?”