“You can look now.” His deep voice is laced with humor.
I turn and, oh my God! He’s in gray sweatpants. Shirtless. Fucking acres of muscles, tanned skin, and tats. Why me? God, why? And that V that drips into the low waistband of his sweats? Just fucking kill me now.
I do the only thing I know can disengage my brain from its dangerous course. I get into nurse mode.
“Let me check your bandage,” I say before I can stop myself.
Zak holds my gaze, calm, intense, freaking hot as hell. “It’s fine.”
“Please, let me check it,” I insist, needing to busy my brain.
He sighs, then sits on the bed. I move close and kneel in front of him. His eyes drop to mine. I fight to ignore the way my heart pounds when our gazes collide. He’s so big and strong, even sitting. And why the fuck did I kneel between his powerful thighs?! I feel the heat from his body, his scent. Catch his fists clenching and unclenching over his knees. What are we doing?…
I shake myself and focus on the bandage. I carefully lift the edge and check the stitches. There’s no bleeding or swelling. Of course, that doctor is probably used to treating bullet wounds. Didn’t look like it was his first rodeo.
“Looks good,” I murmur in a choked voice. Before adding gruffly, “But you’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep moving around.”
He rasps low, “I’m fine, Nadia.”
I whisper back, “You’re stubborn.” My eyes, still riveted to his injury.
He says just as softly, “Takes one to know one.” A large, warm hand comes to cup the side of my face for the briefest touch, leaving a scorching path behind.
I press the bandage back down, my shaking hand lingering on his skin.
I finally find the strength to pull back and stand, muttering, “We should get some rest.”
Zak’s answer is a low, raspy, “Yeah.”
We take turns using the bathroom and brushing our teeth. When I walk in after him, Zak has laid out a new toothbrush still in its wrapping for me, and I rummage through his high-end products for toothpaste.
* * *
When I climb into the huge bed, I settle in as far from him aspossible. Zak turns off the light and slides in on the other side. The cloud-like mattress barely dips under his substantial weight. Then we lie in the dark. Not touching, not talking. But I can feel him. It’s like the heat from his massive body travels the couple of feet between us.
“Nadia.”
His deep voice fills the entire space, wrapping around me, settling at the tips of my nipples, between my thighs…
“Yeah?” I croak out.
“Thank you for helping me tonight.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I mean it.”
I don’t know what to reply to that. So I stay quiet.
Minutes pass. Maybe hours. I can’t tell. Then I feel his arm slide around my waist.
“Zak…”
“Sleep, wife,” he murmurs against my temple, pulling me to his front.
And despite everything… or because of the chaos, the danger, the insanity of this entire situation…I relax, sinking into his warm embrace. And it’s like… coming home. He’s so big that his body freaking surrounds me. The skin on his forearms is soft under my fingertips. Velvet over iron muscles. And he smells so good. Even after getting shot and running for his life. I let the sensations take over. Zak, everywhere. Around me, in my lungs, all over my skin. My heartbeat slowly settles, matching his. I sigh, burying deeper into his chest. He kisses the top of my head, and my breathing relaxes.
“We need to talk about the annulment,” I mumble, already half-asleep.
