veins and the doctor and nurse checking in every once in a while. Burke sat beside the bed on an uncomfortable metal chair heâd dragged from a far corner. He hadnât left her side for a moment, still holding her hand, stroking his thumb back and forth over her soft, slightly warm skin.
She inhaled deeply and he heard the light rattle in her lungs. He didnât like it, regardless of Coxâs assurances that she would be all right. Then her fingers twitched and her head moved on the flat, hospital-issue pillow.
He straightened, watching her face intently for signs that she was coming around. Her lashes fluttered and the tip of her tongue sneaked out to wet her dry lips.
Touching the side of her face, he leaned close. âShannon. Sweetheart,â he whispered. âAre you awake?â
He saw the muscles of her throat work as she yawned and then swallowed, her eyes slowly creeping open. She glanced around, her gaze swinging from his face to the sparse furnishings of the stark white exam room, and back. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse croak.
âJust a minute.â Jumping to his feet, Burke poured a glass of water from a nearby pitcher the nurse had supplied earlier and returned to her side, helping to lift her head until sheâd drunk her fill.
âBetter?â he asked.
Her chin bobbed up and down.
âWant more?â
She shook her head. âWhere am I?â
Her voice sounded rough and parched, like she hadnât used it in days. And for all he knew, she hadnât.
âYouâre at the hospital.â Her brows shot up at that announcement, but he pressed on before she could get upset or strain her throat with further questions. âWhen I hadnât heard from you all week, I went over to your apartment and found you curled up in bed, sick as a dog. I got worried when youstarted coughing and couldnât seem to stop, so I called Dr. Cox and asked him to meet us here.â He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing his thumb over her cheek on each return pass. âAre you feeling any better?â
A second or two ticked by as she let her eyes fall closed, considering. âItâs just a cold. Or so I thought. The heat wasnât working, but I expected some orange juice and a few sore throat lozenges to clear things up.â Her green eyes popped open again to meet his. âThen all of a sudden, I felt like death and couldnât seem to get out of bed. I heard the phone ring a couple times. I even thought I heard someone at the door, but I was too cold and tired to answer.â
Burke ran his hand along the length of her arm, the one without the IV, and slid his fingers between her own. âThen Iâm glad I showed up when I did. The doctor seems to think youâre going to be just fine, but I donât mind admitting that you scared ten years off my life this afternoon.â
Her lips curved in the hint of a smile. âSorry.â
âYou can apologize,â he said, returning her small grin, âby getting better. Fast.â
Â
They spent a few more hours in the hospital, until Shannon was feeling significantly better, sitting up in bed and chattingâalbeit raspilyâwith both Burke and Dr. Cox. After a couple shots were added to the saline drip and the IV drained out, the doctor released her with a few more instructions for taking care of herself once she returned home.
Even though she protested, the hospital required her to ride to the parking lot in a wheelchair, and Burke pushed her out of the building, then lifted her from the chair to the back seat of the limo. Sheâd have probably tried to argue about that, too, he thought, but he didnât ask permission; he just scooped her up before she had time to react and deposited her on theblack leather seat. Shannon, he was learning, was about as independent as they came.
But that was her bad luck, because he just happened to like
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