Accidental Shield (Marriage Mistake #6)(10)

It’s like watching an hourglass as the grains of sand fall to the bottom, the way her energy wanes. By the time she’s done eating, she’s slouching a little, holding the side of her head.

I stand and walk over beside her.

“Come on. Cash said it might be like this. Just take it a few hours at a time until you can stay awake,” I say, wrapping an arm around her. “Time to get some rest. Doctor’s orders.”

She leans against me. “Already? I don’t want to go back to bed.”

“Fine. You don’t have to, as long as you’re resting up somewhere.” Doubting she can walk on her own, I lift her off the stool and carry her into the breezeway and then out to the lanai that runs along the entire back side of the house.

Once we’re there, I carry her to a cushioned lounge chair and carefully slide her down.

Sighing, she leans her head back, eyes closed. “This place is really beautiful.”

I grin. “Your eyes are closed.”

“I know. I saw it while you carried me. It looks like a spa here.”

Ma says the same thing. It’s tiled with a hot tub and planters full of different orchids. I’d done the designing myself, recreating specific things I’d liked from resorts and fine restaurants I’d visited. “Thanks.”

She smiles, then grimaces and touches the side of her head. “Who was your builder?”

“You’re looking at him.” I pat her hand. “Hold on. I’m gonna get you some pain reliever.”

The cat jumps on her lap. I reach to lift it off.

“No,” she says, petting the cat’s side as she clings to it. “Let her stay, Flint.”

“Okay. Be right back.” I jog into the kitchen, grab a bottle of water and some over the counter pain relievers, and race back outside.

After making sure she takes a couple pills, I tell her I’ll be right back after cleaning up the kitchen.

Eyes closed, and with the cat still on her lap, she nods.

I jog back into the kitchen and grab my phone. Cash answers on the first ring.

“Hey, she needs to be seen by a neurosurgeon or something. Get her an MRI, or a cat scan, or something like that.”

“Why?” he asks. “What happened?”

“She could barely hold her head up by the time she was done with breakfast.”

“What else?” he asks.

“That’s enough,” I say, frustrated. “Isn’t it?”

“That’s normal,” he says, holding in a laugh. “Her body’s simply been through the wringer. Like I told you before, let her rest as much as possible. There’s no risk to her since we ruled out a concussion.”

Concerned it’s something more, I ask, “How do you know she doesn’t have internal bleeding?”

“None of the symptoms are there.”

“How do you know?”

“Flint, trust me. The girl’s exhausted and has a bad amnesia fugue. If things aren’t better in forty-eight hours, I’ll have her seen by a specialist.”

“Twenty-four hours,” I growl. “I agreed to keep her here. You fix her head.”

“Fine,” he agrees. “Now go keep an eye on her. I’ll see you later.”





*



I click off and toss the phone on the counter, then go check on Valerie.

She hasn’t moved, and neither has the cat, drowsing on her lap. Despite Cash’s advice, I focus on her chest, make sure it’s rising and falling naturally.

It is. She’s breathing easy. I go back into the house, clean up the kitchen for real, and then return to the lanai where I sit down and wait.

Trouble is, that leaves me too much time to think. Those small, gnarled circles on my back burn as I remember the last time Cash and I tangled with Cornaro.

Not willing to go down that road, I get up and head into the laundry room. After cutting off all the tags, I throw the clothes in the washer and take the personal supplies, toothbrush, deodorant, some face wash and other chick stuff, into the bathroom. It’s been years since I’ve seen any of those things, and even longer since they graced my bathroom counter.

I stay busy, changing the sheets on the bed and then moving on to other miscellaneous chores in between checking on her. After hanging the few clothes that Cash brought over in the closet, I stand back and stare.

What the fuck were we thinking?

No woman has a wardrobe this skimpy. Her stuff barely takes up a foot or two of space in the closet.

Damn it.

A loud meow has me turning around. The big spotted cat looks at me and then turns, walking out the French doors with its tail flicking.

I follow.

The cat leads me right to Val.

She’s awake, rubbing at her eyes. She gives me a shy smile. Something about this slip of a tired, pretty girl puts a dull ache in my head, wondering if I can really keep her safe.

But I have to try. I fucking have to.

“Feeling any better?” I ask, knowing full well the question’s getting old.

“Yeah,” she says with a yawn, combing her hands through her hair, carefully near the injured spot. “Cash was right about the sleep. Seems to help a little more every time.”

As the long dark tresses fall off her hands and settle on her shoulders, she says, “This place is so beautiful. I can’t believe I don’t remember...” She touches her bandaged temple. “Must be this stupid injury. I can’t imagine anything else that could make me forget a place like this.”