“And why would you care how I’m doing?” A spoiled princess like her needed him for rescue and nothing more. He was a battle-weary soldier, scarred on the inside and out, an orphan without a past, and only distant and elusive memories to tease his subconscious. He was eaten up with the need to find out who he was and exact revenge on Mr. J. Caroline Cotter could play no role in that life.
“I thought you might like the company. Obviously, I was wrong,” Nightshade bristled.
Merc chuckled at her irked tone. “Easy, princess. I wasn't trying to ruffle your feathers. Just trying to find out the truth. I don't like it when people lie to me.”
She stiffened, losing that hunched over lost expression in an instant. “I'm not your princess. And I wasn't lying. But now that I’ve seen you’ll obviously survive your puny wounds, I'm going back to my room.”
She made to rise and Merc shoved upright, feeling like a complete ass. Her wounded expression, although she tried to hide it, was a gut punch. He couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t understand it. “Wait. Don't leave. Not yet.”
He didn't draw a breath again until she reluctantly sank back into the chair and blew out a huff.
“Apparently I'm a little grouchy when I'm injured.”
She arched a brow. “Is that your attempt at an apology?”
“I guess so.”
“Well, you suck at it.”
He couldn't contain the bark of laughter that escaped, even knowing pain would accompany the sharp movement.
She spotted the grimace that followed and was immediately at his side. “You're in pain. I’ll get Dr. Klein.” She made to leave again, but this time he reached for her elbow, careful of the bandages. A bolt of shock shot up his arm, and her wide blue gaze slammed into his in alarm.
What the fuck was that?
“It's okay. Breathing hurts, and you made me laugh. The pain was worth it.” He tried to shrug it off and forced himself to release her elbow.
“Yeah, there hasn’t been a lot to laugh about lately. You could've died from your injuries. If it wasn't for your team finding us, we both would probably be dead.”
“So is that what happened, then? My team rescued us?” He tried to read her, but she glanced away.
“Of course they did. Don't you remember?”
Merc answered honestly, “Not really.”
She plucked at her hospital gown. “They found us just in time. I don't think you would have lasted much longer.”
She was acting as if she were avoiding answering his question, and yet hadn't she just answered him? “And what about you, Caroline? Did they rescue you in time?”
He couldn't shake off the reoccurring flashes of Salaam leering at him with a knife, taunting him with the fact that he would rape Caroline right in front of him if he didn’t cooperate. It could be just a dream, a figment of his fevered imagination, or could be one of the splinters of truth left to dig into his conscious.
“They didn't rape me, if that's what you're asking.” Her voice came out bitter and harsh, and he didn't like that one bit.
“It doesn't always have to come to rape for a woman to have been violated. Believe me, I've been to enough war zones to know.” And God help that bastard if he really had harmed Caroline, because he'd move right up to number one on Merc's shit list, even above Mr. J.
She stared through him, making him realize something had happened. Something had rocked her. All the possible violations...she was so tiny. And the whole time he’d been right there, strung up and trapped. Had she been waiting on him to save her? Had she screamed for help?
“Tell me,” he demanded, his own voice shaky.
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing really happened. Nothing permanent.”
His entire body tensed. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means exactly what I said earlier. I wasn’t raped. Trust me.”
She licked her lips and he couldn’t help but notice how perfect her mouth bowed. Her bottom lip poked out a little bit more than her top. She wrapped a hand around her throat, drawing his attention to her bandaged wrists. “What happened to your hands?”
“You passed out on the horse. I had to wrap the reins around my hands to hold you up. It just rubbed a little sore is all.” And yet her hands were completely wrapped from her palms to her elbows with fresh white bandages. A little sore needed a Band-Aid, not this.
