Getting shot in the knee.
I’m trying to think of anything that’ll take my mind off the sexy woman clinging to me like a sloth on a tree.
“Can I ask you something?” Her lips are inches from my neck, and all my distraction tactics evaporate into thin air.
“Ask.”
“You don’t limp.”
I pause in the middle of the field and look back at her. Her eyes are wide, and then she looks away and rests her forehead on my shoulder, so I keep walking.
“That wasn’t a question.”
“How?” It’s whispered.
I don’t want to talk about this. Not today or any other day. It was the worst night of both of our lives. What we went through together is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, or my biological father, and that’s saying something.
“A lot of fucking work” is all I say.
And yeah, the leg aches like a bitch today, but I’ll push through it the way I always do.
She tightens her arms around me, and I pick up the pace because I need to get her off me. I can’t touch her like this. I can’t be this close to her and not want more.
And wanting more is absolutelynotan option.
She’s my job. She’s the president’s daughter. She’s completely out of my league and off limits.
Finally, the house comes into view, and once we’re inside, I carry her up to her room and set her on her feet.
My knee fucking aches.
No, I don’t limp, because I make sure I don’t limp. It’s a weakness I’m not willing to show.
“Thanks,” she murmurs. She still won’t look me in the eye as she turns away and toes off the sneakers.
“Throw those away.”
“I will when the new ones get here.”
“Throw them away today. We won’t train again until your new stuff arrives. That’ll give you a few days to heal.”
“I can—”
“For fuck’s sake.” I push my hands through my hair and pace the room. “Just do what you’re told for once in your life.”
Her gaze snaps up to mine, her eyes flashing with indignation. “I’m not your prisoner, your child,oryour wife, Gideon.”
Wife. Fuck.
“I don’t have to do every single thing you say. I’m also not stupid. I’ll be tossing these when the new ones get here. Trust me, I don’t want to keep them, because they’re trying to kill me and now my DNA is smeared all over the heels. But I don’t have any other casual shoes here. Now stop being a bossy ass and get out of here so I can take a shower. Or don’t and get a show—I don’t really care.”
She rips her T-shirt over her head, tosses it aside, and stalks to the bathroom, where she doesn’t close the door. She keeps her back to me and pushes her thumbs into the waistband of her yoga pants, and as she starts to wiggle them down her hips, I turn my back to her and stomp out of the bedroom.
I’m going to spank her tight little ass.
I storm into my own bedroom, close the door, and strip down, then get into a cold shower. I’m going to be taking a lot of cold showers while that little rebel is in my house. Because I wanted to wrap that braid around my fist, rip the leggings in two, and fuck her into submission.
And that’s the last thing that I can do.
