Page 165 of Outcast’s Vow

When we entered, I limped in a slow circuit around the luxury suite three times, searching for signs of the Masked Killer. I refused to explain why to my wife, even though she pestered me with her sweet voice. I may be in terrible pain, and I may still be in shock, but I have to be strong for my woman. She deserves that. She deserves to feel eternally safe with me.

That’s my job. Protect her.

I immediately retrieved my knife from my bag as I scoped the suite, placing it discreetly in the back of my belt behind my back. Sylvie didn’t notice. She doesn’t need to. I’m ready for him if he dares come back.

This time, it would be a fair fight.

“Come here,” Sylvie commands, sitting now on the suite’s long couch. She pats the seat next to her invitingly as I do one final sweep of the room. “Let me take care of you.”

“Hm.”

“Forget about him,” she says. “You need to look after yourself. You can go on your quest for vengeance tomorrow. Tonight, I help you.”

I obey my woman, limping to her side.

“Sit, Baptiste.”

I do so.

And then she proceeds to take care of me. She’s got the medical kit the hotel keeps in the bathroom, ripping it open like she’s done it a thousand times before. She cleans the wound with antiseptic that burns and then presses strips against it, but I don’t flinch at the pain because I’m taking in her beautiful face as she concentrates.

I just can’t stop looking at her.

And soon my arm is wrapped in a tight dressing. I exhale, finally feeling relief.

“How did you learn to do that?” I ask her.

A sly grin gleams back at me.

“I can do many things, Baptiste.”

“You’re not just a pretty face?”

“There’s more to me than you can imagine.”

I reach forward, cupping her chin with my hand and bringing her pretty face toward mine.

“I guess I did the right thing in chasing you, then.”

Her eyes dart down to my lips. They linger there.

“Oh, I think you did,” she says.

And then I claim her with a kiss.

“Is this part of the first aid, wife?”

“It certainly is.”

“And what other things have you learned to do that you’re hiding from me?” I ask her.

She kisses my neck.

“Would you like to know?” she questions, kissing my bandage tenderly.

“Show me.”

“Are you okay, Baptiste? Do I need to take you to hospital?”