If there are better ways to express it, I can’t find the words. But it doesn’t matter, not as his smile becomes the flame of a lit wax candle. Mainly because wax is still the colour of his skin.
‘Your hold was fortifying. I feel like a battery recharged. Where are my clothes? We need to leave.’
‘I don’t think so.’ More tears, this time through smiles.
‘I’m alive and the woman I love loves me. If that’s not cause for celebration, I don’t know what is.’
‘The only bed you’ll be seeing me in is this one. As for battery, you look like you’ve experienced the wrong end of assault and battery.’
He has no time to complain as the door to his room opens, and two nurses file in.
‘I’m just going to step outside to speak to Rhett.’ I press a kiss to his forehead as he raises my hand to his lips.
‘Tell him to go home,’ he murmurs, exchanging my kiss for his. ‘I’ll speak to him in the morning.’
‘It is the morning,’ I answer, pulling away. But he doesn’t let go of my hand. ‘Okay, I’ll tell him, but I don’t know why you think he’ll listen to me.’
‘Remy says to tell you to go home,’ I say to Rhett as I close the door to room behind me. ‘He says he’ll see you in the morning. He also said thank you.’
‘That’s it. The bastard’s dying, then?’ From his position leaning against the opposite wall, Everett grins. The expression is absolutely disreputable thanks to the dark stubble on his chin. ‘Because if he said thank you, I’m fucked.’
‘Okay, so that was a little artistic license, but I read it in his expression, anyway.’ I shove my hands into my pockets and tip forward on my toes. This feels . . . strange. Between Rhett and me. Like we’ve called a truce. ‘Does stuff like this happen to him often?’
He frowns, his head angling. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, in March, I found him on my doorstep after a motorcycle accident.’ I slide my hands from my pockets, linking my fingers instead. ‘You know about that, right?’ He inclines his head briefly, though offers nothing more. ‘And now this. He fell off his yacht. Does that not seem weird to you?’
‘Why should it?’
‘Because it is weird,’ I retort, my tone firmer.
‘You’re all right, you,’ he states quite abruptly, pushing off from the wall.
‘Well, yeah. Because I’m not the one who’s been admitted to the hospital. Oh. I get it. Was that supposed to be some kind of praise?’
‘It’s the best you’re gonna get.’ He folds his arms across his chest, and I notice his biceps are the size of hams. Meat arms to go with his meathead, I think uncharitably. Whatever. One conversation does not make us friends. ‘I didn’t think you’d stick around.’
‘Oh, nice.’ I drag my gaze from his noticing a nurse exiting a nearby room with a tiny old lady hobbling behind her. ‘I get it. You thought I was just out for what I could get. A gold digger.’ I glower, my gaze moving back to him.
‘Nah.’ His mouth turns down in a show of distaste. ‘I just thought you’d have more sense. When you found out, I mean.’
‘About Amélie?’ My innards suddenly feel like they’ve been filled with wet cement. ‘So, still not a compliment. You think I’m stupid—stupid for staying with him?’
The man closest to him gives me this advice now? What the heck is that about?
‘No. He’s a good man, on the whole. And no one’s perfect.’ His wide shoulders ripple with a shrug. ‘I just thought, well, people like us. People who’ve known real poverty, we’re pretty good at protecting ourselves. In some ways, we’re like the rich, though it’s usually self-preservation and not greed that makes us put our needs first. That and maybe experience.’ His shoulders lift and drop, and he makes a show of stretching his back. ‘Anyway, I’m gonna go and get a few hours kip. Need me to bring you anything when I come back?’
‘Like what?’
‘A coffee? A rope?’
‘To escape or to strangle him?’
‘Maybe to tie up the bad guys. You know, in case they try to bum-rush his room.’
I lower my voice and incline my head, speaking under my breath. ‘Because you think someone did this to him?’
‘I don’t get paid enough to think.’
‘Bullshit.’ My answer is nothing more than an incredulous laugh. ‘You wear the same kind of suits as your boss.’