Page 29 of Her Hidden Smile

The next thing I knew he’d swung me up into his arms. He stalked over to my sofa and gently set me down. He grabbed my three throw pillows and put two of them under my head.

“Do you need this one under your leg?” His gaze was intense.

“Yes. That would help.” I whispered. I didn’t tell him that it would only help a little bit.

Again, he gently lifted my left leg and slipped the pillow beneath it before lowering my leg on it. “Now what?”

I bit my lip. My eyes were still burning. It hadn’t been like this in a while. Of course, normally I wouldn’t show off by crossing my legs in my office chair. I knew better than that.

Idiot.

“I usually take one pain pill and do heat and massage.” I left out the bath part. The last thing I needed was him carrying me into my bathroom.

I frowned. Why wasn’t Renzo making me more uncomfortable? The reason I was so itchy around people was all the poking, prodding, and lack of privacy that I had endured during my time in the hospital. Then Aunt Marge and Uncle Phil only reinforced it. They were the opposite of my parents. It took months before Aunt Marge even tried to hug me, and by that time, I’d shut down. I’d cringed away from her embrace. But here I was, allowing Renzo to carry me without feeling like I was going to throw up or pass out.

How is this even possible?

“Where are your pills?”

I tried to sit up. “I can get them.”

Renzo frowned. “Millie, what are you talking about? You can’t walk. Tell me where they are, and I’ll go get them.”

“Can you get me my cane? It’s in the hall closet.”

“Millie. What the hell?”

I couldn’t tell if he was angry or frustrated. Probably both. Well, good, because I could feel the heat making its way up my neck to my face. I probably looked like a Red Delicious apple.

“Just tell me where your goddamned pills are.”

“They’re in my nightstand. Top drawer!” I finally admitted.

“There. Was that so hard?”

“Yes!” I shouted.

“What the hell?”

“Just get me my damned pills and a glass of water,” I demanded.

He stalked down the hall to my bedroom and I waited. And I waited. And I waited. When I didn’t hear any laughter, I didn’t know what to think. Renzo came back with a prescription bottle of pills and my bottle of ibuprofen.

“Are you allowed to take both at the same time?” he asked.

I nodded. I couldn’t get any words out. He had to have noticed all of the romance books in my nightstand. Why didn’t I just have them on my Kindle like a normal person? Why did I have to like actual paperbacks? I prayed to God and my Mom, not my Dad, that he hadn’t opened the bottom drawer and seen the little plastic case that contained my clit stimulator.

Please.

Please.

Please.

He handed me the bottles and went into the kitchen to fetch me some water. His expression hadn’t changed at all from when he had gone into my bedroom, and when he came back from the kitchen, he just looked concerned. Was it because I was the poor woman who lived alone with only romances and a vibrator to keep her happy?

“It’s from the burns, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”