Dark Haven Found (The Children Of The Gods #49) - I.T. Lucas Page 0,12

dog. Her family was another story.

She’d confided in Magnus, who’d been surprisingly understanding and supportive, but she wasn’t sure his wife would react the same way.

Last night, Magnus had kindly shielded her from Vivian’s questions, telling her that Eleanor had been through a lot and needed some time alone to process what had happened to her. Was it naive of her to hope that he wouldn’t share what she’d told him with Vivian?

Yeah, fat chance.

Unlike her and Greggory, those two were truelove mates, and they kept no secrets from each other.

What a mess.

Eleanor shook her head. She was freaking out over nothing. She hadn’t had sex with Emmett, for God’s sake, and what she had done had been forced upon her. She could claim to have suffered from Stockholm syndrome.

Taking a deep breath, she rinsed out her mug, put it in the dishwasher, and headed out the door.

The walk to Greggory’s place helped clear her head, and when he opened the door, his smile thawed the frost that had settled around her heart.

“Eleanor.” He rushed down the steps and scooped her into his arms. “I missed you.”

He took her lips in a bruising kiss that should have made her all hot and bothered, but this time she felt only bothered.

Damn. Guilt was a nasty bitch.

Nevertheless, she kissed him back and wrapped her legs around his waist. “I missed you too.”

That wasn’t a lie.

He carried her inside and kicked the door closed. “I’m taking you straight to bed.”

Eleanor didn’t argue.

Perhaps sex was the cure, and Greggory’s bite would erase the memory of Emmett’s.

8

Bowen

“Thank you for the dress.” Margaret smiled as Bowen pushed a wheelchair into her room. “It’s so warm and comfortable.”

“I’m glad you like it.” His eyes roamed over her.

The nurse had helped Margaret shower and change, and even though she’d had surgery just the day before, she already looked like a different woman.

Her hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves, and the dark purple color of the dress brought out its natural highlights. She had no makeup on, and there were dark circles under her eyes, but she was beautiful nonetheless.

A fragile porcelain doll who was his to protect.

“Let me help you into the wheelchair.” The nurse started toward Margaret.

“I’ve got you.” Bowen’s long legs overtook the short distance to the bed in two steps. “Lean on me. I’m going to lift you.” He wrapped his arms around her slim form.

“Careful,” the nurse warned.

“I am.” Holding Margaret against his chest for a little longer than necessary, he was aware that he enjoyed the feel of her way too much. It wasn’t sexual. He reminded himself that he liked his women with a little more meat on their bones. But the tenderness that had washed over him went deeper than sexual attraction, and he refused to ponder what it was and why the feeling was so strong.

It was probably nothing. Margaret was hurting, and he wanted to ease her pain. That’s all.

As he gently lowered her into the chair, she groaned, her pale face getting even paler.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” She watched him with rounded eyes as he knelt at her feet and put one pink fluffy boot on her good leg. “It doesn’t even hurt that much. It’s the fear of making a wrong move and causing damage.”

The nurse shook her head. “As long as you don’t step on the foot, you should be fine.” She handed Bowen the crutches. “The wheelchair needs to stay in the hospital. You need to return it to the entrance.”

“I know.” He gave the crutches to Margaret to hold over her lap. “Thank you for the good care you’ve taken of my friend.”

The discharge documents had already been signed by the doctor, and there was nothing else that needed to be done. They were ready to leave.

“That’s what we are here for. Do you have Margaret’s meds?”

“I do.” He motioned to the plastic bag hanging from one of the wheelchair’s handles.

“Then you are good to go. Take care.”

“Thank you.” Margaret waved goodbye as he wheeled her out.

In the parking lot, she turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. “Are you sure that we don’t have time to stop by Safe Haven to collect my things?”

“The detour would take more than two hours. I’d rather stop at the mall and get you what you need. If you have anything in Safe Haven that you can’t live without, we can arrange for it to be mailed to you.” Bowen stopped