Page 32

Securing the firehouse took longer than he expected, not that he’d been in much of a hurry. The canvas bag Doc had given him dangled from his fingers like a hangman’s noose. Just one final task, and he could leave her to her own devises. It was a simple task. Still, it had his stomach knotting.

He paused outside Alex’s open door. She stood at the foot of the bed with her back to him, struggling to slide out of her sling. He signaled for Titan to stay. Alex wouldn’t want the hound in her room. He’d sensed her disgust as she’d taken in the hound’s scarred appearance.

The floor creaked, and she whipped her head up. “Jericho. I didn’t hear you.” She tucked an errant lock of red hair behind her ear, then reached for the strap on her shoulder.

“Stop,” he ordered, moving to her side. He brushed her hand away and eased the sling from her arm.

She stiffened, a fierce frown settling on her face. “You don’t need to help me. I can do this.”

“Doc told me to check your wounds before you go to bed. He mentioned you reopened one of them when you snuck out to visit Liam.”

He tossed the bag onto the comforter. Doc had released her into his care with explicit instructions. Whether Alex liked it or not, she was following the doctor’s orders.

“Just pretend I’m Doc Randall,” he said with a strained smile. When it came to his Chosen’s safety and well-being, he refused to compromise.

“But… You’re definitely not Doc Randall. You’re—” She waved her hand, gesturing to his six-foot-four frame.

He exhaled wearily. She was making this much harder than it needed to be. He cupped her chin, letting her senses do the talking. His intentions were honorable.

Her eyes flared with panic for a moment before they softened, revealing a glimpse of emotion he didn’t recognize. She blinked and relented with a resigned nod.

For some reason, that bit of trust twisted his heart in his chest. He doubted she gave it easily.

She unfastened the top button of her shirt.

He feigned interest in a spot on the rug while each turn of her fingers revealed more skin than the last.

“There’s something you should know,” she said in a tight voice. “As your Chosen, I can’t block you like I can the others. The bond makes it impossible. Any emotion you’re feeling, you’ll broadcast in your touch. I… I don’t have any defenses against it. It wasn’t a problem with Liam since—”

“I understand,” he cut her off. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t seem to notice she was now standing in front of him with her shirt hanging open. Goddess, save him. She was wearing another one of those lacy black numbers. The creamy swell of her breasts rose above the cups of the bra, promising they would more than fill a male’s palms.

His mouth went dry, and a cold sweat broke over the back of his neck.No. No, they wouldn’t. He gave himself a hard, mental shake. Wait, what had she been saying?

The blue fabric slid down her arms, forming a silken pool at her feet. One bra strap hung off her damaged shoulder. White bandages covered her wounds—just the shot of ice water he needed.

He peeled the bandage away and clasped her arm, examining her injury. His molars ground together. It was a shame only one of the assassins still lived for questioning.

He put the ointment Doc had given him onto his fingertips and dabbed it on her wound. Images of her lying on the sofa, bleeding, flashed through his head. Gavin said he’d found her tossed against the wall, discarded like yesterday’s trash and nearly trampled to death.

Alex’s sound of distress stilled his hand. He glanced up to find her eyes were squeezed shut, her teeth sunken into her full bottom lip.

“Alex?” The moment he pulled back, she released the breath she held. Her furious green eyes flicked open, glaring daggers.

“If changing a few bandages is so distasteful, why did you insist on helping me in the first place?” She made a grab for the ointment, and he held it out of her reach.

“What are you talking about?” he growled.

Undeterred, she snatched the supplies off the bed.

“Alex…” He snagged her wrist and jerked the bag out of her hand. “Stop.”

She froze at his harsh command. Her deliberate gaze shifted from his face to his grip on her wrist.

She’d been reading his emotions. He dropped her like she’d caught fire. They stood toe to toe, tempers sizzling in the stony silence.

Seconds passed before he released a frustrated sigh and reached for her elbow. Alex flinched—fearing his touch. A reaction that speared his pride, one she wouldnotbe repeating.

He slid his fingers down her arm and captured her wrist. She needed to see that he could control himself. Hell, he needed to prove it to himself as well. He’d had no problem controlling his emotions in the past. Although, nobody had ever challenged him as she did.