Page 18

18

Niki

Fire. My body was on fire. Every breath felt like a struggle, like I was back in that suffocating little box. I couldn’t focus. Everything around me blurred and shifted, slipping through my grasp like a fading dream.

I searched the room for Lyon. Where was he? Panic swelled in my chest.

“Mama,” I croaked, my throat is raw. “Call Lyon. I need to tell him something.”

Her warm hand smoothed over my forehead. “Sweetheart, they’re trying to bring your fever down so you can breathe easier.”

“Please, Mama. I need him.”

That’s when he walked in. His strong and unwavering presence filled the room, but the moment he laid eyes on me, his confidence in his stance faltered. His gaze flicked to my mother, then to the doctor, and finally to me. My skin burned, my breathing ragged.

“What the hell is going on?” Lyon’s voice was sharp, demanding answers. I heard a growl and knew Brutus was with him.

“Brutus, stand down,” Lyon demanded.

I mustered the last of my strength. “Lyon, I’m so happy you’re here.” Tears pricked my eyes, slipping freely down my cheeks. “I had some… complications. My organs… they aren’t doing so well.” My breath hitched, but I pushed through. “I love you. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved, the only one I ever will. Thank you for loving me. I’m sorry that I’m dying. If I could, I’d live to a hundred just to be with you.”

His face darkened. “Sweetheart, I would never let you die.”

I felt the wetness from my tears pooling beneath my head, soaking my pillow. But what did it matter? They were taking me away from the man I loved more than anything.

Lyon turned on the doctor, his entire body rigid with fury. “Why would you tell her she’s dying? Why would you put that fear in her head?” His voice was pure steel, dangerous.

The doctor paled. “I—I didn’t say her organs were shutting down right now. I only meant that—”

“That’s not what you told me.” My voice wavered, my vision swimming. “You said I didn’t have much longer.”

Lyon’s jaw clenched. “Sweetheart, do you trust me?”

I nodded, unable to form words.

“We trust you too,” my mother added her tone tight with suppressed rage.

Without another word, Lyon scooped me up, carrying me out of the hospital. My parents followed, not questioning him for even a second.

He placed me gently in the back seat of a large pickup, my father taking the front beside him. The ride was long, the roads winding, until we reached a secluded house perched on a cliff with the most breathtaking ocean view I’d ever seen.

Lyon carried me inside like I weighed nothing, his arms solid and protective. “From now on, I’m taking care of you.” His voice was firm, resolute. “First thing’s first—getting that fever down. How long have you had it?”

“A few days,” I admitted, feeling exhausted. “It’s weird… the doctor had me convinced I was dying.” I frowned something twisting in my gut. “Where did that doctor even come from?”

Lyon’s expression darkened. “We’re going to find out.”

He brought me into his room, where floor-to-ceiling windows framed the sea. “Oliver is here somewhere,” he said, drawing back the drapes. “He’s building a house next door. I’ll see if he can mix one of his herbal remedies for you.”

Then he leaned in and kissed my forehead. “I’m going to show your parents to their room.”

The bed was impossibly soft, the blanket warm and inviting. As soon as my head hit the pillow, sleep finally, mercifully, claimed me.

When I woke, the room was dark except for a faint glow from the bathroom. For a moment, I forgot where I was. Then I stretched out my hand—and found Lyon beside me. My lips curled into a smile before I let sleep take me again.

The next time I woke, sunlight streamed through the windows. I felt better—weak, but no longer burning up. I wanted to get up, but no one was around to help me. I didn’t want to risk falling.

A noise caught my attention, and I turned my head.

Lyon stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

My breath caught.

He was gorgeous. Strong. Confident. Completely unaware that I was shamelessly staring.

He smirked, walking over to me. “Let me get dressed, and I’ll help you up.” He leaned down, brushing a kiss against my lips, then disappeared into the closet, still talking casually.

I barely heard him. My mind was still stuck on the way the water had glistened against his tanned skin.

“Your parents had to leave,” he said as he emerged, pulling a shirt over his head. “They got an emergency call from the winery. They didn’t want to go, but I convinced them I’d take good care of you.” He sat on the edge of the bed, watching me closely. “Your fever’s gone.”

I exhaled in relief.

“I also talked to the hospital administrator.” His tone hardened. “No doctor by that name works there.”

My stomach twisted. “What? That’s insane. Was he trying to kill me?”

“We’re looking into it,” Lyon said grimly. “You weren’t the only one. Three other women—young and healthy—ended up in critical condition under his care. He had them sedated, put on life support before anyone could question them.”

A chill ran through me. “Did any of them… die?”

“We don’t know. The FBI is after him now, but as soon as I took you out of that hospital, he disappeared.”

My skin crawled.

Lyon stood and grabbed a cup from the nightstand. “Oliver made this for you. You need to drink it before you try standing.”

The liquid was dark green and honestly looked awful.

I wrinkled my nose. “What is it?”

Lyon grinned. “No idea. Oliver swears it’ll stop the dizziness.”

I took a sip. Then another. It was surprisingly good. “Okay, I expected it to taste like dirt. But it’s actually decent.”

Lyon chuckled. “Good. Now let’s see if you can stand. How about a shower? I’ll wrap your arms so your casts don’t get wet, and I’ll set up a chair in the shower.”

I nodded, grateful for his thoughtfulness. I would love a shower.

After the shower, Lyon was waiting. He dried me off, helped me into one of his oversized T-shirts, and carried me back to bed.

But something inside me twisted.

I couldn’t stay here. It was too personal. Too intimate.

Tears burned my eyes as I whispered into his chest, “I can’t do this, Lyon. Not like this. I need to go home.”

His arms tightened around me. “Sweetheart, I want to do this. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I admitted, voice cracking. “But this is too much. If my mom had stayed, it would be different. I don’t want to mess this up before we even have a chance. I can’t even move my arms or use my hands.”

Lyon exhaled, his breath warm against my temple. “How about I bring in a nurse? She can help with everything. I’ll just carry you around and kiss you.”

I shook my head. “I need to go home. Even though the carrying around getting kisses sounds wonderful.”

His grip loosened. “Home to where ? Your big house with all those stairs? How are you going to manage alone?” His voice was gentle, but I could hear the frustration behind it.

“I’ll have help.”

He fell silent for a moment. Then, softly, “I won’t stand in your way if this is what you want. But I’m not going anywhere.”

I looked up at him. “You better not. Because I’ll never love another man.”

His lips brushed mine. “Damn it, woman. How about I just move in with you?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No.”

“Marry me, then.”

“Lyon.”

He grinned. “Worth a shot.”

I kissed him again, lingering. “We’ll figure it out.”

His arms tightened around me. “You’re damn right we will.”