Page 10 of Romancing His Heart

Sloane snorts and mumbles something I don’t catch.

“Hi, Loki.” Emory’s demeanor changes, and I notice the mask she’s put in place.

Is that just for me, or does she do this with everyone?

Sloane places her hand on my forearm, and I stare at the foreign gesture.

“Don’t worry, that’s her Dr. Camden cloak. As soon as she’s done examining you, she’ll be back to herself, the heart of the family, as Sylvie calls her.”

I see Emory roll her eyes, but that’s quite the endorsement from Sylvie Westbrook. I let my puzzled gaze drift to Sloane. Once again, I wonder how she knew what I was thinking. I’ve spent years in training, learning how to be evasive and not let people in, and yet here she is, answering my unspoken questions.

“I study people,” she states matter of factly, confusing me even more.

“Sloane, am I going to have to ask you to leave?” Emory scolds.

“Good luck. I already tried that, and look where it got me,” I grumble.

Emory glances between Sloane and me before speaking. “He asked you to leave?”

“Yup,” she says on a yawn.

“And you didn’t leave?” Emory appears as confused as I feel.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Staring straight at me, Sloane answers, “Well, he may own this apartment, but I’m renting it. That makes it mine, too, for now. Plus, I’ve stayed right by his side while making sure he’s okay in between your check-ups. I knew if I left him, those two would come barging in here the second I walked away,” she says, pointing to Seth and Ash in the corner.

She’s probably not wrong, but how long has she been staying in that chair?

A prickling sensation forms in my chest, causing a quick intake of breath. The sound spurs Emory into motion. Placing a bag at the foot of my bed, she unloads all kinds of medical equipment, and I use the moment to observe.

While the two women look similar, their stature is entirely different. Emory is of average height, too thin, and carries an air of seriousness with her. In contrast, Sloane, with her false bravado, has a tentativeness to her that’s disarming. She’s also one of the smallest women I’ve ever met, with curves in all the right places. No one would accuse her of being overweight, but she has hips and thighs that are perfect for holding onto while—

What the hell, Loki? I shift on the bed, attempting to hide the growing problem under the sheets.

One glance at Sloane, and I know she’s caught me. Smirking, fucking smirking at me with a raised eyebrow, a knowing snicker escapes her full, pouty lips.

Great, Loki, you twatwaffle.

Emory clears her throat, and I realize I’ve been staring at Sloane for far too long. The thing is, Sloane never looks away. For all her bubbly, timid ways, she held eye contact, never once backing down. I wasn’t trying to intimidate her, not really anyway, but my team says it comes naturally. Everyone looks away from my glare, eventually, and she didn’t even flinch.

For Christ’s sake, I didn’t even realize she entranced me again. Tearing my gaze away, I find Emory searching my features with concern.

“Loki? Did you hear what I just said?”

“Huh? Ah, no, I’m sorry, I missed it.”

Sloane giggles.

“Sloane, seriously? This is not a laughing matter. If Loki is missing pieces of conversations, that’s vital information I need to know.”

“Oh, Mis.” The familiar sentiment seems to take the edge off Emory. “He didn’t miss your question because of a head injury. I think he missed your question because of ahem, biology.” Her grin is back, and she nods toward the bed, eyes dancing with mirth.

In slow motion, Emory and I look down and notice my boner at the same time.

“For fuck’s sake,” I bark, reaching behind me for a pillow to place over my lap.