She narrowed her eyes on Anya before moving closer to the bed, ignoring the bodyguards’ growls.
“Coffee is a no-no, Anya,” she said gently.
“She was aroused when she awoke this morning.”
Anya groaned in embarrassment. “Dammit, Del-Rey.”
“She was dreaming. She wanted my kiss.” He was close to losing his mind.
“Anya?” Dr. Armani moved closer. “Have you hurt like this before?”
“Duh,” she managed weakly. “I would have been here.”
“Smart ass.” The doctor smiled fondly. “I want you to let Del-Rey take another sample of blood for me. I may have an idea.”
She moved, collected the syringe and pushed another vial onto it before handing it to Del-Rey. Swiftly Del-Rey drew the blood, tensing as he felt the pain in her rising from the loss of the pressure of his hand.
Armani moved quickly back to her lab as Del-Rey returned his hand to her stomach.
“Mate, you’re going to give me a stroke,” he sighed as he moved closer to her and brushed damp hair back from her cheek.
A weak smile crossed her pale lips. “I should get a treat for being a good girl while you took the blood.”
“Anything,” he whispered, knowing what she would ask. That she would ask to be relieved from his bed, out of his arms.
She sighed. “Get Ashley’s damned nails fixed. Her whining will drive me insane.”
“Whenever she needs it.” He caressed her hair and laid his lips at her temple. “Nails are no longer included in punishments.”
She sighed, slowly relaxing. The tension eased, bit by bit, until her muscles relaxed beneath his palm. The heat of his hand and her flesh melded them together. He swore he sweat buckets while he caressed her rounded tummy.
Finally, she breathed out in exhaustion and turned her head to Emma. “Em. I need some water.”
“Yes, Anya.” Emma rushed to the outer room as Ashley and Sharone stood by her side.
“Anya.” Del-Rey eased up.
She shook her head. She was still pale, but she wasn’t sweating and normal color was returning to her cheeks.
“Pain in the ass, Coyote,” she snorted, but there was a smile in her weak voice. “I scared you, huh?”
“Terrified the hell out of me, Coya,” he admitted.
He wasn’t supposed to kiss her. He was to keep the hormone in those glands to himself, but he wanted to kiss her. Until hell wouldn’t have it.
“Hey, Breed.” Armani’s determined voice had him lifting his head. “Open.” She shoved a swab at his mouth.
“What?” Del-Rey jerked back.
“Oral swab. Now.” She shoved the damned thing in his mouth, swiping it over his swollen glands before turning and rushing back to her lab.
“Coya, your water.” Emma moved back to the bed as Del-Rey helped her sit up and sip at the water.
“I want out of here,” Anya muttered after Del-Rey handed the cup back to Emma. “Now.”
“Not yet.” There wasn’t a chance in hell. “Stay still a while longer, Anya. You’re going no place until we figure this out.”
“I’ll live here then,” she retorted. “I want my own doctors. We need Coyote Breed specialists.”