Angel Falling (Falling #1)(12)
“I understand. Thanks, Doc.”
“I’m also going to prescribe a circulating cold therapy system. It will reduce the swelling and pain naturally. You’ll take the unit home with you and refill the ice as needed. Do thirty minutes on and a couple hours off, and then repeat the process. It will speed the healing time.”
“Sounds good enough.”
“I’ll make sure he gets one. If you could have a member of your team write down the make and model of the best on the market, I’ll have it delivered,” Aspen interrupted, phone in hand. “Wait.” Her voice was clipped, directed at the caller.
The doctor’s eyes went to hers and smiled. I was about to decline her offer when she jutted out a flat hand in front of my face, stopping me in my tracks. It was surprisingly as effective on me as it had been on her assistant but for entirely different reasons. Her take-charge voice and demeanor had me and my dick paying attention. She was going to be such fun to break.
“Doctor, anything — and I mean anything — that will help speed his recovery will be provided by me. The cost is of no consequence. Whatever you say he needs, we’ll take care of it.” She handed him her business card then barked orders into her phone. “Oliver, make sure you order whatever Hank’s doctor prescribes.” A few seconds ticked by as she waited. “Yes, any expense,” she said with finality then pressed a button and tossed the phone into her pocket.
“Aspen Reynolds. You own AIR Bright Enterprises?” The doctor’s tone held reverence, his face set into a huge grin.
“Yes, I’m the owner and CEO.” She moved over to her bag and pulled the long strap over her shoulder. Holy hell, she owned the skyscraper my company was adding onto. Did that mean she was my boss? Technically, I guess it must have. It never dawned on me that she had that kind of money. I had figured she was rich, but in order to own a company of that size, she had to be worth a lot of dough. As in billions. Wow. And she seemed so young, too.
“You’re famous!” The doctor continued his adoration.
“Hardly.”
I watched the exchange, fascinated as she held her head high, back straight as an arrow. Professional Aspen was sexy, but I was sad to see my sweet angel had all but left the building. She’d be back. Her softer side intrigued me and seemed to pop up whenever she was touching me. I’d bet good money on the fact that not many were privy to that side of her. Made me a king among men knowing she let me in, at least a little. At some point, I’d have her in every way possible. Over the next eight weeks I planned on familiarizing myself with every facet of Aspen Reynolds.
She headed to the door, bag held firm to her side. The woman was even prettier than a perfect sunset back at my ranch, and I’d been known to let a good hot dinner lose its heat just to see one of those glistening horizons. She was wearing one of her usual black skirts, the ones that hugged every inch of her hips, thighs, and ass. What I wouldn’t give to run my hands up and down that skirt, scrunch it up to her waist, and take her right here. Damn, I had to get my mind out of the gutter or get this woman between the sheets. I couldn’t think straight when she was around.
She turned and thanked the doctor. Her white blouse pulled at the corner, exposing a healthy view of the upper swell of her breast. A purplish black shadow appeared against her creamy skin.
“Aspen, come here.” I squinted my eyes and tried to see more of the purple stain against her flesh.
She adjusted her shirt self-consciously and walked over to the side of the bed as the doctor exited.
“Put the bag down for a second.”
She did. “What’s this about?” Her brows drew together.
I pulled her closer and placed my hand around the fragile, softer-than-silk column of her neck.
She took a deep breath but didn’t move my hand.
Trailing the back of my knuckles down between the small pearly buttons of her shirt I could see the edges of the discolored skin that caught my attention moments ago. With my right hand, I skillfully unbuttoned the top button of her shirt.
A deep inhale shook her small form and her body trembled under my fingertips. Her gaze held mine as my fingers traced the lacey edge of her undershirt and pulled the white satin aside to expose a huge, angry looking bruise. It was about four or five inches in diameter, larger than a softball.
“Jesus Christ, Angel. You did get hurt.”
“No, Hank. I’m fine. You … you’re the one who got hurt. This is nothing. Don’t you see … ”
I shook my head in frustration. All I could see was a giant ugly purple mark that proved just how close she’d been to getting her heart punctured with lead. I was happy it was me and not her. Having this warm, perfect angel in front of me, as if she were sent by God himself was worth it. Almost as if she was meant for me to save, to protect.
Why I felt so strongly near her was astounding. It didn’t make sense, but neither did the energy that buzzed just under the surface. It filled the space around us, bringing us closer to each other. I didn’t even know her, but it didn’t matter. I wanted her. Wanted her to be safe. Wanted her to be mine.
Leaning forward, I placed gentle kisses along the entire surface of the bruise. It was out of line but I couldn’t help it. Her skin drew me in. I wanted — no, needed — to make it better. Her fingers twined through my hair as I worshiped her skin with small kisses.