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“When it concerns her safety, you take charge. Even Blazek wouldn’t let her have her way if she was risking herself,” Kian said.

“She’s suffering, and you’re shouting?” Vladimir growled at Kian.

“I’ll shout at her until she stops putting herself in danger,” Kian said. “She’s not responsible for just herself anymore.”

“She’s our Siren. We’re part of her responsibilities, too,” Orlando said quietly. “We let her down.”

When Lucienne woke up again, she sensed someone in the room with her. As she stirred, the person immediately jumped from a chair with a sleepy grumble. “Milácek?”

“Vlad?” Lucienne called.

Vladimir turned up the light to a comfortable shade. “You’re drooling.”

“I don’t drool! How long have I been sleeping?”

“Almost forty hours.”

“And you’ve been here all this time?”

“Some time,” he said. “Don’t worry about my beauty sleep. It takes so much more to make this face less appealing.” He helped her sit upand gave her water. She leaned back against his warm chest. His strong, steady heartbeat comforted her.

After she slowly drained half the cup, she pushed it away. With a sigh, she snuggled against his chest that bulged tightly against a Versace shirt. He smelled of wood, shampoo, and summer flowers on a hot day.

“You smell of Sphinxes,” she said. He smelled of home.

“I know.” Smiling smugly, Vladimir said, “I took a shower before coming back to see you. You have a thing for scents, as do I.”

Lucienne blinked, conscious of her own odor. If she’d slept for forty hours, she hadn’t bathed for over forty hours.

“Don’t worry,” Vladimir sniffed her hair and kissed it. “You smell of sweat, blood, and hospital, but none of them come close to masking your natural perfume. It can drive a man mad, but, as we both know, I’m the king of control.”

Someone eased the door open. Out of modesty, Lucienne pulled away from Vladimir.

Nurse Mary came, smiling. “You’re awake, Lucia. And your fever is gone.”

Vladimir grunted, “I thought we could have some privacy in the middle of the night.”

“Thanks, Mary,” Lucienne cut in before the nurse snapped back at Vladimir. “Please don’t let Dr. Wren know I’m awake.” Then, over Mary’s rueful expression, she asked, “You’ve informed him, haven’t you?”

“He’d throw a fit if he found out,” Mary said.

Before Mary left the room, Kian, Orlando, the elite commandos, and Ziyi, appeared at the door. The recovery room, designed to feel like a ladies’ lounge instead of a hospital room, became a full house.

“This isn’t a party,” Vladimir said. “She just woke up. She needs more rest.”

Dr. Wren stormed in. “What are you boys doing here?”

“You called us,” Ziyi said. “You woke all of us up to tell us Lucia has awoken.”

“I wanted you to hear the good news. And I wanted all of you to be aware that it was under my excellent care that she recovered quickly,” Dr. Wren said, red-faced. “But I didn’t call you to come pester her. I’ll give her a thorough checkup, and then she’ll have something appropriate to eat before she rests again. Now, off you go. Let her rest.”

No one moved.

“Go!” Dr. Wren barked, looking at Vladimir, who had slipped into a chair beside the bed. “Including you, prince!”

“Since you’ve woken them up, Dr. Wren,” Lucienne said, surveying the faces, “let them stay a little longer. I need to talk to them anyway. Have someone bring coffee.”

“Most of the military personnel are here,” Kian said. “Who else do you want to see?”