“I don’t want to talk about Declan?—”
“Well, right now, I don’t have any intention of talking about anything else,” River cut in firmly. “Not the reason for my fall or the result of it.” He raised a tentative hand to his very bruised face before letting that hand fall back to his side. “Danny Walker is gorgeous, isn’t he?”
Fawn narrowed her gaze. “I see what you’re trying to do there, River, and it isn’t going to work.”
“No?”
“No.”
River had come out to both her and their parents when he was sixteen. They had all had their suspicions, of course, and as far as any of them were concerned, River was River, the brother and son they all loved. Being gay didn’t change that.
He shrugged. “It was worth a try.” He released a heavy sigh before continuing. “My disease is at the stage that we both know there are going to be a lot more bad days than good ones. This morning was bad. But I met Danny because of it, and my surroundings now aren’t half bad either.” He looked at the luxury of the navy-and-lighter-blue-decorated bedroom.
Fawn knew that both subjects were meant as a diversion from what River had actually admitted out loud for the first time. Namely, that he now had more bad days than good ones. Fawn had suspected as much, but River had never acknowledged it before.
And Fawn hated that for him. Hated it! It was just so bloody unfair. River was so young, barely twenty, and he should be out enjoying his life with people his own age, not debilitated by a daily worsening chronic disease.
“I’m still in shock from thinking of Nikolai Volkov having not only contacted Mark Reynolds but actually dragging him along to the hospital with him.” She gave a dazed shake of her head.
“Yeah, about that,” River drawled. “Maybe not now, but at some point, I’m going to want you to explain to me how you’ve come to be acquainted with a high-up member of the Russian bratva.”
Her eyes widened. “You know that about Nikolai?”
He snorted. “I might be sick, sis, but I’m not deaf, and working part-time behind a bar, I hear things. Which is why I know Nikolai Volkov is totally badass.”
“I had never heard of or met him before today either. Nikolai is a friend of Declan’s and the family who run the security company he works for.” At least, she presumed that was the association. The two men certainly knew each other, and quite well from the familiarity of their conversation at the hospital.
River’s grin was a little lopsided as a result of the bruising to his face. “Declan is badass too.”
“Yes, he is,” Fawn acknowledged with real affection.
Declan was also stubborn to the nth degree, forcefully confident, and, for some reason, he had decided he wanted to help her and River through this heartbreaking situation. That he wantedher. An admission on his part that had totally rocked her world earlier today.
River eyed her speculatively. “Do I detect a romance?”
“A romance!” She gave a splutter of laughter at the description. “Does Declan look like the sort of man who does romance?”
River continued to grin. “He looks like the type of man who says and does exactly whatever the hell he pleases.”
Much as Declan had earlier accused Nikolai Volkov of doing.
Physically, the two men were nothing alike. Declan was all defined muscles and craggy faced, where the Russian was trimmer, if just as muscular, his appearance suave in the three-piece suit he had been wearing today as opposed to Declan’s T-shirt and jeans.
No, the two men were nothing alike in appearance, but they both exuded an arrogance and resolve that warned anyone against even attempting to oppose them.
“From what I’ve observed, Declan is very protective of you, and by default, that protection now seems to include me too.” River smiled. “It’s actually quite nice to have someone caring about us again,” he admitted ruefully.
Fawn felt that too.
Because of her worry about River, she hadn’t had time to think too deeply about several of the statements Declan had made to her earlier today. But she’d thought enough to now realizeDeclan had been deliberately holding back these past three days on taking their attraction to each other any further.
Revealing that the desire and intent of their first evening together was still there, simmering just below the surface of their every encounter since then.
Did that include Declan knowing of Fawn’s arousal every time she touched him to change his dressings?
Fawn had a feeling those deep-blue Irish eyes missed very little.
Speaking of which…
