“Obviously not since no temp agency or hiring agency will work with you.”
He kicked out his leg and crossed his arms over his chest. “No one will ever be you, Ms. Copeland.”
I rolled my eyes. “Did you talk to Donovan about the York house? Has the security glass been installed?”
His eyes chilled. “Yes. I’m not happy with the changes you made.”
“You’re just pissed that you didn’t think of it sooner.” At his silence, I inched up on the stupid bed. “Or, you did.”
“It’s not cost-effective.”
“Screw that. I saw your clock in the showroom. That glass was made for both art and security.”
From the moment I’d walked into Carson Covenant, I’d wanted the unusual glass on my worktable. I’d longed to work with it. So much so that I was even designing pieces with it in mind. I wasn’t ready to tell him that, but it didn’t make it any less true.
At his mutinous look, I tried a different tactic. I held out my hand.
“Dirty pool,” he muttered, but he reached for me.
The fact that I could see him stretched over a billiard table, his intelligent eyes calculating angles and the quickest way to clear the table, was something I had to stuff down for another time.
It must’ve been the outfit.
I rarely thought of Blake as anything other than a corporate shark. Pool shark shouldn’t have been nearly as hot, and yet…
His eyes heated as my nipples pushed against the hospital gown and robe I was wearing.
He leaned into me, and all the while, his thumb brushed over my pulse. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I’d like to remind you that I’m not a good man. The urge to check over every inch of you to make sure I’m satisfied with your care is raging against a very thin veneer of civility.”
What the hell was I supposed to say to that?
There’d always been an undercurrent of dominance to our physical relationship. Blake had started it with the way he’d touched me that very first night in the vestibule. Since then we’d matched each other in intensity. But this was different.
For the first time, he seemed to need me to be more than just a willing woman wrapping around him. I’d said the words without expecting them in return. Good thing, because they’d never come.
For a while I’d wondered if I’d ruined everything by telling him that I loved him.
But here and now, the look in his eyes was more than sex and possession. It was there, of course—I wasn’t sure it would ever be completely gone. Madness seemed to follow us into the dark. I loved it. I craved it as much as I craved the man.
I’d never felt more alive than when I was in Blake’s arms. Or pinned underneath him.
And this whole line of thought wasn’t helping me.
Maybe I needed that bit of uncivilized Blake to feel alive, too. Being alone in that cave and facing a life devoid of Blake had been even more terrifying than a lack of answers.
I pulled him even closer. His mouth came down on mine in relentless possession instead of the sweetness of earlier.
A throat clearing—loudly—broke us apart.
Blake sat back in his chair and swiped his bottom lip with his thumb.
The nurse bustled in with her cart. She went right for my IV and swapped out a bag. “Visiting hours are over, Mr. Carson. I also need to get Ms. Copeland up and moving for a few minutes, then down for the night.” She rattled a little plastic cup in front of me.
“What’s that?”
“Just Ibuprofen,” she said crisply.
I tossed them in my mouth and accepted the small cup of water.
“You can come back tomorrow, Mr. Carson.”
Blake stood up. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”
“Tomorrow,” the nurse said again.
He slid his fingers through the tangle of my hair. “Forty minutes, and not a minute more.” Then he strode out.
“I’ll have to have him forcibly removed.”
I laughed as the nurse flipped back my blankets.
“And why is that funny?” she asked.
Oh, if she only knew. “Good luck with that one.”
She unstrapped my leg from the immobilizer. “Do you need to use the restroom?”
Now that Blake was no longer in the room, I could focus on other things. As I swung my feet to the floor, it was actually sort of an imperative. “Yes, please.”
She pushed a wheelchair over to the bed. “At least you have manners, unlike your young man.”
I pressed my lips together to stop the grin. “My grandmother wouldn’t have it any other way.”
By the time I’d gotten up and taken care of business, and finally gotten back into my bed, it was a good while later. My drugs had long since worn off and the Ibuprofen was as effective as an aspirin for a hangover.
“Do you want to try just a splint to sleep?”
“If that means I can sleep on my side, then I’m all about it.”
The nurse smiled. “I think we can make that happen.”