Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
His hand presses to my face, and he tilts my gaze to his again.
“Your eyes are black.”
“We knew that would happen, Creed.”
Concern etches his brow. “How do you feel?”
“I’m fine. Tired. A bit nauseous, but who wouldn’t be with hardly any sleep?” And, not about to give him time to start the self-blame routine, I shift the topic to a more important one. “What are you going to do about your mother?”
“I’ll destroy her company and strip them of their ability to help Zodius.”
The bitterness in his voice is painful to hear. This is his mother, his only living parent, and no one understands this more deeply than me. “Tell me what happened tonight.”
He hesitates, then lays down on his back and starts talking, telling me everything, including all the emotions he’d felt when I expected him to hold back. The separation from his family hurt him and still does. The betrayal by his mother destroys him more than he’d thought was still possible.
It's a long time later when he pulls me close and I lay splayed to his side, his heart thundering beneath my palm, his body strong and warm next to mine. The room is dark with the promise of a peaceful sleep, but I don’t know how to bring actual peace to Creed.
But I try. I will try for the rest of my life if that’s what it takes. “I choose you over him,” I whisper, speaking of my father, and I know he knows this. “Not because you’re my lifebond, but because you’re the better man.”
He doesn’t speak, but his heart races with my vow. I think he doesn’t believe me about my choice or his own worth. But he will. He will.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Addie
A loud, pounding sound permeates the haze of deep sleep, followed by a stabbing sensation in my belly. Oh, God. It hurts. It really hurts. I blink awake and quickly squeeze my eyes shut against the agonizing glare of light. Not even natural light.
More pounding.
I hold my throbbing head and force myself into a sitting position, holding the sheet over my naked body. Creed sits on the edge of the bed, his back to me, fully dressed in the black fatigues I’m coming to know as standard Renegade attire. “You might want to put this on,” he says, standing and offering me an oversized blue robe. “Jensen is here to help you scramble that call to your father.”
I glance at the silk of the robe and then at him, an unbidden stab of jealousy overtaking me. Is he giving me another woman’s robe? “What is this?”
“Relax, sweetheart. There’s a nurse named Emma who brought you some things she thought you’d want. She left them outside the door for us, and you were so knocked out you didn’t know when I opened the door.” He rounds the bed and leans over me to kiss me. “And for the record, no other woman has been in my room. Also, for the record, if it were up to me, I’d keep you naked all day, but duty calls to us both.”
He pulls back and curses. “Fuck. Your eyes are still black.”
“I’m not converted, or you wouldn’t see black. But don’t react like that. It makes me feel like I’m the plague you don’t want to catch.”
He sits down, obviously tuning out Jensen. “You know that’s not true. There are things—”
“That don’t matter, but,” a sharp pain no doubt pinches my expression, “I’m sick again.”
Another knock on the door feels as if it’s rattling my brain inside my head. “Please make him stop that incessant knocking.”
I shove my arms into the robe, and his gaze rakes over my naked breasts, but he doesn’t touch me. He wants to, though—it was in the raw sexuality that settles deep in his eyes. And so he does. He drags me close, his lips slanting over mine in a deep, passionate kiss that leaves me breathless. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Pounding begins again, and I groan. “Then make him stop, Creed.”
“Sorry, sweetheart.” He releases me and pushes to his feet, closing the space between himself and the door. I quickly tie the robe, not sure it’s nearly as conservative as I’d like with a visitor, but I’ll have to make it work. I toss away the blankets, settle my feet over the edge of the bed, and when Creed steps into the hallway, I rush to the bathroom. I then proceed to hang over the toilet and dry heave. It’s bad. I have to lay on the floor a few minutes until, finally, the sickness eases enough for me to force myself to my feet.
Fortunately, I find that Emma, the nurse, has sweetly been quite thorough in her choices. With my delivery, I’m able to brush my teeth, wash my face, and throw on leggings and a tank with a pair of blue slippers that match the robe. There’s a knock on the door, and I open it to find Creed standing in the doorway.