Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
I hesitate, then touch his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the high cheekbones, and the scars.
Soon, the room is quiet, save for the beep of the heart monitor and the occasional chime from one of the other displays.
I’m unsure if Dmitri is asleep or just resting his eyes. They’re closed, leaving me to contemplate the small thrill I got when Dmitri called me Evgeny’s wife, even if it was a lie.
20
EVA
The doctors keep Evgeny sedated for almost a week to keep him calm and prevent more seizures as the poison is flushed from his body. It’s still a few days beyond that before he’s fully conscious instead of drifting in and out of haziness. They don’t remove the ET tube for another day. Evgeny shows even more improvement by growling at the nursing staff when they come to change an IV bag.
I’ve been here through it all, taking shifts with Dmitri, Vasya, and even Alona, though, really, I don’t go home at all, not even during their shifts. When Marco came to see how his new hero was doing, he brought me a sweatshirt and leggings from home, and that’s what I’ve been living in. Several nurses I’ve come to know have even graciously let me use their shower when the doctors aren’t looking.
It has given me time to face the fact that I’ve fallen, irrevocably, for the man who took me hostage.
I’ve watched the strongest man I’ve ever known fight to keep his life. I’ve seen him weak and in the terrifying throes of a seizure, and I’ve held his hand as he lay in the hospital bed, so tough and so vulnerable at the same time.
My heart has shifted in the time we’ve been here, through the hell we’ve been in, from interest, lust, and attraction to something more profound. Something I’m in danger of never recovering from.
“What are you thinking about?” Evgeny’s voice is still husky from the ET tube, but it’s growing stronger every day.
“Sorry, what?”
“You looked like you were lost in thought.”
Lost is a good word for it. As lost as I am in the startling green of Evgeny’s eyes. But I can’t tell him what I was thinking about, I mean there’s no way. I have no idea how he feels, and I’m afraid if I tell him, he will react badly.
“The house is lonely without you.”
A line furrows his brow. “That’s what you were thinking?”
“More or less.”
Less. A lot less.
“What are you thinking?” I counter before he can ask any more probing questions.
He takes a moment to search my face, then traces the same path with his hand until his palm comes to rest, cradling my cheek. I lean into the warmth, grateful his hands aren’t ice-cold anymore, that they’re capable of the gesture instead of curling in involuntary spasms.
“You saved me.”
“I didn’t do anything. It was all the EMTs and doctors and nurses.”
“You spilled the wine. If you hadn’t been so clumsy, I would have had the whole glass.”
The bottle of wine, it turns out, was the culprit, laced with a whole lot of strychnine. The consensus is that the poison was meant for Vasya, who kept the bottle, and others, at the restaurant he frequented. It had been a gift he’d offered to Evgeny upon finding out where Evgeny was taking me.
“I suppose Vasya owes you his life, too,” Evgeny says, a small, tired smile touching his mouth.
I don’t find it funny though. I find it horrifying. One mistake, and he wouldn’t be with me anymore.
Another thought pops into my head. “If I hadn’t spilled the wine, I would have had some.”
Evgeny’s smile is gone in an instant, replaced by fury. All I feel is nausea, roiling and terrible, my mouth filling with saliva. I bolt for the bathroom before I heave up the contents of my lunch.
When I return and slump back into my chair, Evgeny is trying to rip out his IVs and get out of bed.
“Are you okay?” His gaze searches me frantically, his thumb on the help button, ready to call for backup.
“Stress,” I answer, then offer a tired smile for his sake. “Worry for you.”
Evgeny’s gaze searches my face again, but the gesture is exploratory this time. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?” he asks. “Eaten well?”
“I’m fine.”
“Eva.” The pakhan is looking at me now, his mouth a stern line.
“I’ve been here,” I say with a shrug, as if that answers his question. And really, it does.
I’ve been at the hospital almost every minute Evgeny has been there, which he knows because Vasya, Dmitri, and Alona took pains to tell him, over and over.
The stern line becomes softer, and Evgeny covers my hand with his when he’s settled back against the pillows.
“Eva, go home. Take a shower, have Alona make you food, and go to sleep. I’ll be fine.”