Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Dillon throws his head back and laughs loudly. "Did you meet her, Madden?"
"Yes. I carried her out of the house. Why?"
He pats me on the shoulder, his lips twitching. "No reason. You're right, though. She's sweet as pie. Very docile."
For some reason, I get the impression he's lying through his fucking teeth. Which makes no goddamn sense. I met her. I held her in my arms. She's about as sweet as they come.
Christ, I want that sweetness for myself. Every damn inch of it.
"You can't hold me hostage here."
"You aren't a hostage, Ms. Gregori," Dr. Belle Arakas murmurs, her voice soft and soothing. "You're a patient."
"Then I'm free to leave," Nina says from the other side of the privacy curtain, her voice raspy, as I stride toward the room the nurse at the desk pointed out to me.
"Afraid not," Belle murmurs, refusing to give up that easily. She may be tiny, but she's got balls of steel. Then again, they probably come with the territory when you're married to the head of the Arakas crime family. "You need oxygen and rest."
"I need to go home!" Nina cries, frustration in her tone.
"You can go home after you've had oxygen and rest."
"Or you can let me leave now. Holding people hostage is against the Geneva Convention."
The Geneva Convention? What the fuck?
I pause a few steps from the curtain, biting my lip to hide a smile. I guess she thinks Silver Spoon Falls is a war zone now?
"And letting you leave is against the Hippocratic Oath, so I guess we're at a stalemate," Belle says, a smile in her voice. "Get some rest, and then you can file a complaint with the UN about being held at the hospital against your will by a doctor who hasn't declared war against anyone." The curtain rustles before Belle sweeps out in her white lab coat.
"I'm writing everyone," Nina grumbles from the other side, her voice pitched low, as if she doesn't intend anyone to hear. Except she's obviously shit at whispering because I hear her loud and clear. "I don't want to rest. I want to leave before that stupid-hot firefighter gets here."
Belle chuckles, letting me know she heard her too. And then the good doctor notices me standing there, eavesdropping. Her gaze rakes across me in a quick assessment, humor glinting in their depths. "Emmett," she murmurs, smiling at me. "I take it you're the stupid-hot firefighter she's trying to avoid?"
"Guess so," I rumble, scrubbing a hand through my hair. What'd I do to piss her off? "You're her doctor?"
"I am." Belle nods.
"She's cranky."
"Noticed that, huh?" Her lips twitch.
"Uh, why is she cranky? She was fine when she left the scene of the fire." My brows furrow. "What did you do to her?"
Belle stares at me placidly. "What makes you think I did anything, Emmett Madden?"
Well, shit. I know that tone. I know that look too. And both tell me that I've officially managed to piss off two women tonight. And I only know why the one standing in front of me is annoyed. The one behind the curtain is a complete mystery.
"Sorry," I mumble. "That didn't come out right." I blow out a breath. "I'm sure you took excellent care of her, Doc."
Belle grunts quietly and then shakes her head, softening incrementally. "Maybe you can be taught, Emmett. To answer your question, I don't know why she's cranky, but if I had to guess, I'd assume it's because she's been stuck in the ER all night with no news."
Shit. She's probably right. No one wants to spend all night in the emergency room, especially when their father's house is burning to the ground a mile away.
"Does she need to stay much longer?"
"She can go anytime," Belle says. "I've only been keeping her because Dillon called right after she got here and told me not to let her leave until you had a chance to talk to her."
Damn. Maybe the fucker isn't so bad after all. I'm definitely not telling him that. But he can't hear my thoughts, so I'll think it quietly.
I glance toward the curtain, trying to see Nina on the other side, but all I manage to glimpse is a sliver of the bed through the crack. "Is she okay?"
"She inhaled a lot of smoke," Belle murmurs, her voice soft. "But we've had her on oxygen since she got here last night. Her vitals are good. We didn't see any damage to her airway or lungs." She pauses. "But if she starts having increased difficulty breathing, her cough gets worse, or she starts displaying signs of confusion over the next thirty-six hours, you need to get her back here immediately."
I nod, more than familiar with the signs and symptoms of serious respiratory damage from smoke inhalation. In this line of work, it comes with the territory. God only knows how long she was in that bathroom before we got her out or what kind of toxic chemicals she inhaled with the smoke.