“Stan, it’s time to get out—” She paused when she saw my ministrations, and I almost groaned at the misty look in her eyes.
“I’m Kitty’s seat!” I retorted, needing her to not start crying on me now.
We’d noticed that if Luc or Hunter did anything that reminded her of ourpatri,she was not only more likely to cry, but to find solace at the bottom of a wineglass.
She sniffed at my declaration. “That nonsense might have worked on your father, but not me, son.” Once I’d rinsed the conditioner, she flicked her hands at me in a ‘shoo shoo’ motion.
Kitty, no protection from my devious mother, merely snorted as I obeyed her nagging by carefully depositing her in the tub. I clambered out of the water and sunk to the floor again.
WhenMatriplaced the tray over my lap, she snagged a small dish with fruit, granola, and yogurt in it and passed that to Kitty.
“Thank you, Lauren!”
“Oh, no bother, dear.”
“No, because someone else prepared it,” I mumbled.
Matrisquinted at me. “Did you say something, Custanzu?”
When Kitty chuckled, I didn’t care that I was getting the stink-eye.
I’d takeMatriclipping me around the ear if it made Kitty smile.
FOURTEEN
KITTY
“You shouldn’t go in,” Stan grumbled from the bed as he watched me pull on some clothes that a housekeeper had deposited in our room yesterday.
The wealth in this household terrified me.
The clothes were my size. They fit me perfectly. And they put my current wardrobe to shame. There were so many designer labels in the capsule collection that I could start up my own clothing store.
As I dragged on a pair of pants, regretting snapping at his offer of help, wincing as I bent over, I didn’t have the chance to moan more than once before he was there, clucking as he urged me into sitting down, then dressing me.
I didn’t particularly appreciate being kidnapped.
Nor did I appreciate being almost raped.
And Icertainlydidn’t appreciate dealing with the aftermath of a beating, but that I saw this side of Stan was almost worth it.
My ovaries had no business eavesdropping into our relationship, but this man’s caretaking abilities definitely fascinated them.
When he’d finished tutting as he helped me dress, he griped, “Just call them. You can’t go in when you’re this injured. Surely they’ll accept that.”
I gaped at him. “I work in a hospital, Stan. The one area of modern life where workplace standards mean dick. You think they care that I’m ‘bruised?’ Hell, one of my friends was assaulted by a patient one night and was expected to come in the next day!”
Stan frowned. “How often does that happen?”
“Not that often.” Shit, I knew that anecdote was going to bite me in the ass in the future. I patted his chest. “Look, you already won. I’m going in to tell them I can’t work. If I was at home, I’d have gone in and fulfilled my shift.”
His cell rang before he could argue with me further.
“Fuck. I need to get this,duci.”
“That’s fine. I’ll head out?—”
“No. I’ll come with.”
