Page 56 of Owned (Office Intrigue Duet 8)
“Just normal saline,” I assured him, explaining the IV.
More narrowing of his gaze before it swung down toward his knees. “If you put a catheter…”
“No catheter. Not yet.”
“Not ever,” he grumbled, attempting to sit up.
I planted a hand on his chest, gently urging him back as I pushed the button to raise the bed.
“I’m not an invalid.”
“Maybe not. But no sense overdoing it.”
“I have to take a piss.”
“Thanks for the broadcast.” I motioned for the bathroom. “Feel free. But I want you to go slow.”
The Ransom I used to know would’ve put me in my submissive place, but this one simply grimaced as he got to his feet. After dragging the IV stand around, I stepped back, not wanting to hover as he steadied himself.
He made it two steps before he peered down. “Where the fuck are my pants?”
“In the hazardous waste bin,” I answered with a grin.
“That’s gonna cost me,” he said with a sigh, then continued toward the bathroom.
I did my best not to admire him from behind. Not easy to do when the black and red boxer briefs accentuated his phenomenal ass and his muscular thighs. I watched until he disappeared into the bathroom, then turned my attention out the window to the courtyard pools beyond.
There were probably a dozen people out there right now, most of them possessions in training attending to the staff. Early evening did seem to be the time everyone ventured out, entertaining themselves (or each other) by utilizing the outdoor amenities. While I had spoken with him, I hadn’t seen Talon since our return to the island, but that wasn’t unusual. Rarely did I venture over to the offices of Owned, Inc., housed on the second floor of the main residence. Nor did I go to Talon’s private home on the third and fourth floors. Most of my time was spent here in the well-equipped clinic, in the Owners’ Retreat tending to the possessions, or in my villa a short distance away.
“I hope you don’t plan to keep me here much longer,” Ransom said as he strolled out of the bathroom, looking far steadier than before.
Realizing he had removed the sling, I glanced at his chest, noticed the angry bruise that diagonally crossed his pectorals, put there by the seat belt he’d been wearing when he crashed. Thank God he’d had the sense to wear it.
“Just waiting for you to wake up.” I motioned toward the bed. “Sit and I’ll remove the IV. Then”—I used my stern doctor voice—“once you put the sling back on, I’ll show you to your villa. And if you’re hungry, I’ll explain how to order your meals.”
“Order? Like a hotel?”
“Technically, the Owners’ Retreat is a hotel.” I removed the tape securing the needle in his arm and gently pulled it free, pressing a cotton ball to his skin with my thumb. “Talon has it structured that way because of the frequent guests who come here.”
“Guests?”
“Potential Owners,” I explained. “But it’s a private resort.”
Ransom frowned.
Evidently Talon hadn’t explained the details of what transpired here on the island of sin and debauchery.
Because I had no intention of going into detail—not my place—I shifted the topic. “There’s a kitchen staff on duty twenty-four seven. You can order pretty much anything at any time. There are possessions to tend to anything else you might need. Laundry, cleaning. They rotate shifts and handle all chores.”
“Have you eaten dinner?” he asked, peering up at me as he rubbed the spot where I’d secured the cotton ball with medical tape.
“I have not,” I said.
“Good. You’ll have dinner with me.”
My gaze shot to his face and I swallowed hard. The polite refusal was sitting on the tip of my tongue, but it remained there when those brown eyes seemed to peer into my soul.
“Very nice,” Ransom said, his voice pitched low as he stood. “I like when you don’t argue.”
Since I hadn’t moved back, we were nearly chest to chest, and because he was a few inches taller than my six feet, I had to peer up slightly to hold his gaze.
“Have I mentioned I missed you?” Ransom’s thumb brushed my chin, rasping against the two-day beard growth, his gaze skimming my face as though he was taking it all in once again.
When his eyes met mine, I found myself holding my breath. I knew he wasn’t looking for an answer because it was a rhetorical question. I seriously doubted he could hear the pounding of my heart, but the rapid blood flow was currently filling my ears.
I forced myself to take a step back, focused on my breathing, prayed I didn’t faint because, yeah, he had a way about him that made me light-headed.
“I’ll show you to your villa,” I said, turning away, reminding myself of all the reasons I could not let this man get under my skin again. Hell, it had taken me nearly a decade to get over him.
