Page 14 of Dark Shaman: Love Found (The Children Of The Gods #99)

"You're setting new records. I'm sure you will be delighted by that. No one else has grown as much during their transition."

His breathing hitched, then steadied. Beneath closed lids, his eyes were moving rapidly. Definitely REM sleep now or something close to it. She wondered what he was dreaming about.

"I know you're probably comfortable in there." She squeezed his hand gently. "No responsibilities, no one asking you to draw anything, no social interactions to navigate. But it's time to come back. The world's been suspiciously peaceful without your particular brand of venom. "

She chuckled. "Wait until you start growing fangs and venom. That's going to hurt like a bitch. Bridget will give you some pain-numbing medication, but it only goes so far."

The ghost of a smile touched his lips. Could he actually hear her? Was he processing what she was saying in the dream world he was still submerged in?

"Plus, you can't properly appreciate how much I've improved in your absence if you're unconscious," she added, playing to what she suspected would motivate him most. "I've been practicing my sarcasm on your comatose form. We can have a friendly competition, or not so friendly. It's up to you."

She really should call the doctor. Protocol existed for good reasons, and patient care came before personal desires, but she still didn't reach for the button.

"You know what the hardest part has been?" she said instead. "Waiting for your running commentary. It's been downright peaceful and incredibly boring around here."

His fingers twitched in what she chose to interpret as indignation.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure you'll make up for lost time. You'll probably wake up with a list of grievances about your care. The linens being too abrasive, the hospital gown not allowing for optimal ventilation, etcetera.”

Hildegard was talking just to talk now, filling the space with words to keep him engaged .

He was finally waking up, and she had no idea what she would do with him once this stage was over.

Their dynamic had been established during the first moments of their interaction—his outrageous flirting and the unexpected chemistry that sparked between them.

She'd finally met someone who enjoyed her particular brand of wit and dished out as good as he got, and that was before she'd spent over two weeks memorizing every change in his features.

Before she'd read him five novels and discussed the plots with his unconscious form.

Before she'd started doing yoga in his room because leaving him there alone felt wrong.

Before she'd gotten attached to her patient in ways that crossed professional boundaries.

"When you wake up, things are going to be different. It will take time for you to adjust to your new body. I'll be there to help you with your physical rehabilitation, and I hope you are not going to be too much of a pain in the ass during the exercises I will force you to do."

His brow furrowed, and she could swear he was trying to frown at her. The Tim she'd met sixteen days ago would definitely object to being called a pain in the ass, even while knowing it was well earned.

"Oh, you don't like that? Too bad. Unconscious people don't get to argue. It's one of the few perks of being the conscious one in the room."

His lips parted again, and this time she heard something—not words, just a soft exhalation that might have been attempted speech. The monitors responded with increased activity across the board.

He was really waking up.

"Okay," she said, decision made. "I'm going to call Bridget now."

She reached for the call button, then paused. "But, Tim, before the circus begins, I want you to know that I'm really glad you're coming back. It's been too quiet without you."

She finally pressed the button.

His throat worked, swallowing with obvious effort. His fingers flexed again in hers, and she could feel the strength there. He would have to relearn his own body, recalibrate every movement.

But that was for later. Right now, all that mattered was guiding him back to consciousness by being the steady presence he could orient himself around.

"Come on, Tim," she coaxed, leaning closer. "I know you can hear me. Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Wake up and rejoin the land of the living."

Any moment now, those eyes would open, and she hoped that it would happen before Bridget arrived.

For these last few seconds, he was still hers alone.

She cut off that dangerous line of thought.

Professional boundaries. She needed to remember those existed, even if sixteen days of intimate caretaking had blurred them beyond recognition.

She'd played a double role, that of his nurse and his significant other, even though they were not in a relationship.

Tim had no one else.

"Whenever you're ready," she whispered, thumb still stroking across his knuckles. "No pressure. But I've been waiting sixteen days to see if you still think I'm a fifteen, and patience has never been my strong suit."