Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,25
to be with me where he can smother me and assume the role my father left vacant, or the role he would have assumed if life didn’t have other plans.
My stomach twists as grief rips apart wounds which never seem to heal.
“Ev-e-lyn?”
The low, throaty way my name is enunciated sends shivers down my spine. The fine hairs of my arms lift.
“May I come in?” That voice belongs to a man I never thought I’d see again, but hoped I would.
“Asher?”
My boring hospital room seems to shrink as he steps inside. There’s simply too much of him to take in.
Damn, the man cleans up fine. If I had any doubts about his looks, they disappear the moment Asher La Rouge, decked out in a pair of denim jeans hugging him in all the right places, enters into my lonely hospital room.
His poor tee-shirt is losing the struggle to contain his muscles. Scrawled across the front is a graphic of a grape leaf and a cask of wine which displays La Rouge Vineyards in flowing script. My mouth dries up when he spreads his arms wide, like he’s happy to see me.
“How’s my little backpack doing?”
“Getting better every day.” I speak the truth. “I passed out in the helicopter. They said I had smoke inhalation. I guess it did a number on my lungs.”
“Smoke can do that.” He gives a solemn nod. “I’m glad you’re doing better. You had a rough go the first couple of days.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you were in intensive care.” He lowers his voice. “I tried to visit, but they wouldn’t let me see you.”
“You visited me?”
“Tried too. I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Wow, that’s really sweet.” But did he try to visit me because he wanted to see me, or was he simply checking up on his little rescue? I hate to think I’m a charity case.
“You were kind of in and out of it, and a combative little freak. You gave your nurses a run for their money.”
He leans against the wall and his gaze sweeps me from head to toe. Something simmers in his eyes, but I’m not sure I want to assign any importance to it. I don’t think I’m brave enough to hope it means what I want it to mean.
There’s heat burning in that gaze, a hunger ravenous to be fed. I’ve never had a man look at me like that before. It makes me wriggle a little in the bed.
Asher is a man who challenges me. That excites me more than it scares me. The challenge lies in those eyes and the message they’re sending. It’s in the casual way he occupies my room as if he belongs there, as if I want him there.
Which I do.
Except, I’m not supposed to be interested in getting close to anyone, or at least that’s the lie I hang on to. My grief runs too deep. It’s still raw, ugly, and a tragic mess, but hell if my animal brain doesn’t ignore all of that.
The rational side of my brain tries to feed caution to the animalistic part and it’s not liking it one bit. In fact, it’s spitting all that caution back out at me, telling me to ignore all the reasons for turning Asher away, and simply accept the inevitable.
The inevitable?
What exactly do I think is going to happen here?
I scoot up in bed and straighten the sheets after doing a quick check of my hospital gown. His lusty gaze sees right through the mess of my clothes, or lack thereof. I’m ashamed of my makeup-less face, but it’s like he doesn’t care. His simmering look promises to fulfill all the fantasies I’ve let run wild while trying not to go crazy in this hospital bed.
I take stock of my attire. Everything’s covered by a hospital gown. The fabric is thin and my body is primed and reacting to his presence. My nipples practically poke through the see-through fabric.
“My memory is a bit foggy.” I hate admitting it, but it’s the truth. He mentioned intensive care but I have no memory of that. “How bad was I?”
“What do you remember?” He sounds concerned.
“Not much actually. You rescued me, strapped me to your back like a backpack, carried me out. There was a helicopter, then nothing. I woke up with a mask covering my face.”
“It’s called bi-pap.”
“Bi-what?”
“It’s a form of assisted breathing. Fortunately, you didn’t require intubation and a ventilator. I was concerned when I found you. You couldn’t finish sentences and were