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Opening the door, he reached in and undid her seatbelt. Then he helped her out of the car. Grasping hold of her hand, he led her into the hotel. She noticed that he kept a vigilant watch on his surroundings as he moved.

It was kind of infuriating, because it made it harder for her to be mad at him when he was being so protective. They stepped into the hotel and headed up the elevator. Unfortunately, there were people in the elevator with them, so she couldn’t say anything. But as soon as they were back in the room, she turned to him.

“You don’t get to tell me to hush.”

“I do when I’m mad at you and I need a moment,” he said, walking to the mini-fridge.

Was he going to start drinking?

But, no, he brought out a bottle of water and undid it, handing it to her. “Pills.”

Urgh! That was infuriating as well! As much as she wanted to stay mad at him it was becoming increasingly difficult due to the way he kept taking care of her.

She just stood there, glaring at him.

“Want me to get them from your handbag?”

“I’ll get them.” Her headache was starting to feel worse. She probably hadn’t drunk enough water today. “But I’m not taking these because you told me to.” She wanted to make that clear.

Tobias crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t care why you’re taking them, just that you take them.”

“You can be a very infuriating man.”

“And you can be a stubborn brat.”

She huffed in a breath and started choking on the pills she’d just put in her mouth. She smacked at her chest and he leaped toward her, slapping his hand down sharply on her back.

“Cough! Cough!”

He wrapped his arms around her, shoving his fists into her stomach. Suddenly, Immy managed to spit the pills back up.

Shaking, she leaned back into him.

Oh God. Oh God.

“Easy, easy, sweetness. You’re okay. I have you.”

She shook her head. She’d nearly choked. She couldn’t . . . she couldn’t . . .

Tobias turned her in his arms as she started to sob. Then he picked her up. She expected him to move to the chair or maybe the bed and cuddle with her.

But he just stood where he was, holding her. He didn’t rock. He didn’t make any noise. No words of reassurance.

Then again, she didn’t really want that. She just wanted to be held in strong arms. By someone who had saved her.

“Sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, trying to wipe at her cheeks.

“Don’t apologize,” he said firmly. “You’re entitled to cry after choking.”

He walked over to the armchair and set her down in it. Immy couldn’t stop the whimper of protest from escaping her. But he backed away.

“I’m just getting you some more water, sweetness. I’m coming right back.”

Immy watched him closely as he picked up the bottle of water from the floor. There was a huge wet patch on the carpet that might have worried her any other time. But she couldn’t bring herself to care.

It would dry out. It was just water.

Not exactly important under the circumstances.