My heart rate kicks up a notch, thumping against my chest. “Is that a proposal?”
“No, it’s an announcement.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything.”
He leans down until I can feel his breath skim my lips and see the glint in his eyes. “I didn’t ask, bride.”
His expression is fierce and full of possession. It makes me squirm as both desire and nervousness race through my body.
The corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk. “I’m not hearing any protests…”
My instinct is to argue, to fight him, but his words are an enticing promise. A security that I desperately crave after a lifetime of worry and upheaval.
Except Xavier Donovan doesn’t love me. Not like I’m beginning to fall for him. And I can’t. Giving my heart to an assassin is stupid. He doesn’t just live with danger, he embodies it.
“That’s not exactly romantic,” I say, my sarcasm lost in my whisper.
“What I want to give you goes beyond romance. It’s more. Deeper than mere words.”
I press my lips together to avoid spilling my guts. His confession lights a fire in my belly, but I’m not sure he’s capable of tender emotion. Obsession? Sure. But something as pure and unselfish as love? Does he even know what that is?
“You’re the only woman who will ever share my name,” he says. “The only woman who will bear my children. And the only one who will own my loyalty.”
His gaze remains steadfast like his words, both heavy with commitment and intensity. I’m on the verge of diving into this pool of madness, of giving into the depths of it all and letting it drown me.
A discreet knock on the door snaps me out of the intimate moment, and I blink as though waking from a dream.
The door swings open to reveal the doctor. He scans the room, his darting between me and Xavier.
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need to disclose some information concerning your care.”
Xavier releases my chin and straightens to his full height before folding his arms. The warmth of his touch and the passion of his declaration still linger, making my face warm and my hands sweaty. He, on the other hand, appears controlled, his expression holding only a mild curiosity.
The doctor slowly approaches the bed with a clipboard in hand. “Firstly, it’s imperative that the wound is kept clean and dry. Infection is your biggest risk right now.”
He glances down at my chart before continuing. “You’ll need to clean the area around the wound with mild soap and water twice a day. Avoid using alcohol or peroxide as they can delaythe healing process. After cleaning the skin, apply a thin layer of antibiotic ointment and cover with a sterile bandage.”
“When can I shower?” I ask.
“It’s been nearly forty-eight hours since your surgery, so today is fine,” he says.
Xavier nods, his attention fixed on the doctor. “What about pain management?”
“I’ll be sure to include that, an antibiotic, as well as the ointment and bandages. Physical activity should be limited.” The older man pins Xavier with a hard stare that has a blush rising to my cheeks. “I mean it. No strenuous exercise, recruit.”
The physician keeps his focus on Xavier until he acknowledges him with a curt nod. “I heard you the first time.”
“Good.” The doctor shifts his attention to me. “You’re young, so you’ll be fine after resting for a few days. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to contact me.”
“Thank you,” I say.
He dips his head in my direction. “The nurse will be right in with your medication, and then you’re free to go.”
As soon as the man leaves, I sit up with a wince and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Before I can put any weight on my feet, Xavier gently grabs my shoulder, halting my movements.
“Let me,” he says, a soft command that brooks no argument. “I’m not taking any chances with your recovery.”
“But I can walk,” I say, ignoring the twinge of pain along my stomach. “The doctor said ’no strenuous activity,’ not don’t move at all.”
