Taking Control (Babysitting a Billionaire #3)

The door opened at that moment and a doctor entered, together with a nurse, and behind them Kim and Dani, both carrying a big bunch of flowers and a couple of carrier bags.

Pushing past the doctor, they hurried across the room, coming to a halt beside her and opposite Declan. They took turns to lean down and kiss her very lightly on the cheek. “We couldn’t wait any longer.” Kim nodded toward Declan. “Your hot new bodyguard wouldn’t let us stay. He wanted you all to himself. But we’ve been getting hourly updates in the waiting room and we took it in turns to go out goody shopping.”

Jess peered into one of the bags. It appeared to contain black lacy underwear, chocolates, and a bottle of scotch.

“Thank you,” she said.

Dani bit her lip. “We’ve only been given thirty seconds, but we just wanted to say we love you and don’t ever do that again.”

“I won’t.”

“We’ll be back later,” Kim said.

“That’s if your bodyguard lets us.”

They both squeezed her good arm and then headed for the door. Dani spoke to Declan. “Look after her.”

“I will,” Declan said, reluctantly stepping back so the doctor could get to her. He leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

“Are you in any pain?” the doctor asked.

She pulled herself upright, wincing as a sharp pain shot through her side. Then settled back against the pillows. “A little.”

He added something to the IV and seconds later the pain faded to nothing and she sighed. “Thank you.”

She closed her eyes as the nurse moved around, peering at the bandages, taking her blood pressure.

“How bad is it?” she asked the doctor.

“Not so bad. Both wounds are clean and we stitched them up. The arm one was simple; the one in your side a little more problematic. You’ll have an impressive scar, but the bullet missed any organs and went right through.”

“So can I go home?” Her voice sounded pathetically hopeful, but she really hated hospitals. Both her previous stays had ended up with just about the worst periods of her life.

“No.” The doctor and Declan spoke in unison.

“You lost a lot of blood,” the doctor continued. “We need to replace that and make sure you’re stable.”

She pursed her lips, but decided to wait until she felt a bit stronger before she started arguing her case. The truth was, she did feel a little light-headed. She hadn’t noticed while she was horizontal, but now she was sitting up her head was swimming. She gritted her teeth.

“Stop fighting it and relax,” Declan said. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Who’s going to stop me?” But she said it just for effect and snuggled back into the pillows. The pain was gone. She wasn’t dead. Declan loved her. Time to fight for her rights later. Now she just didn’t feel up to it.

As the doctor straightened from his examination, a tap sounded on the door. More visitors.

“Okay. You’re good for now,” the doctor said. “Ring if you experience any change.”

“Thank you.”

As he opened the door she caught sight of her next visitor. She really wasn’t up to this.

Rory McCabe strolled into the room, a huge bouquet of bloodred roses in one arm, a garment bag in the other. He placed the flowers on the table by her bed and stared down at her for a moment. Then lowered his head and kissed her on the cheek.

She resisted the urge to wipe her face; it was really too much effort.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked.

“I just came to thank you for saving my son’s life.”

“All part of the service.” She peered at him a little closer. His nose appeared swollen. “Have you been in an accident yourself?”

He smirked. “I came into sudden contact with Declan’s fist, last night.”

Shock widened her eyes. She turned to Declan. “You hit him? Why?”

“Why the hell do you think? Because he’s a bastard. And it’s been a long time due.”

“Thanks,” Rory muttered. He took a deep breath. “Jessica, I owe you an apology.”

“Yes.” She waited and he frowned.

“Yes, well, I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to offer you money to leave my son alone. But I love my son and I believed you were wrong for him. I still believe if the two of you had stayed together back then that it would have been a disaster.”

“Has anyone mentioned that you suck at apologizing,” Declan murmured.

Rory cast him a black look. “It’s a first, and I don’t expect to repeat the experience anytime soon.”

But she knew he was right; back then she’d been a mess. She wouldn’t have been able to cope with the pressures of the relationship. Because she had no doubt there would have been immense pressure. A seventeen-year-old girl with a low boredom threshold and a penchant for trouble, and Declan busy at college. She would have been in a strange country, without any family for support. Her sister wasn’t all that supportive when she was in the same country. On a different continent, Jess reckoned she would have just written her off.

Maybe they would have survived. Maybe not.

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay what?” Rory looked wary.

“Okay, apology accepted.”