steady gaze tracked me.
Gently setting the book on the small table holding two empty cups of coffee, I walked over, assessing Ransom where he lay in the bed used for the rare patient who had to stay in the clinic for any length of time. In some ways it resembled a standard hospital bed. Mostly because of the ability to adjust to accommodate—up, down, incline, decline, etc.—and it came equipped with security rails to keep a patient from falling onto the floor. Only this bed was more opulent, more … expensive. Most hospital beds didn’t come equipped with eighteen-hundred-thread-count sheets, down bedding, and a therapeutic mattress with the abilities to heat, cool, and massage.
Only the best for Talon and those who resided here on this island.
“I did, yes,” I answered as I drew nearer. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better. Headache’s finally gone.” His eyes narrowed on my face. “But if you shine that light in my eyes one more fucking time…”
He was definitely feeling better.
“What time is it?”
I glanced at my watch. “Eight thirty.”
His gaze swung to the windows as he frowned. “At night?” Ransom let his head fall back on the pillows. “Please tell me I haven’t been asleep for days.”
“Only about twelve hours. You needed it.”
When he went to move, his attention shot to his arms, one secured with a sling, the other tugging on the tubing attached to the fluid bladder hanging above him.
“Just normal saline,” I assured him, explaining the IV.
More narrowing of his gaze before it swung down toward his knees. “If you put a catheter…”
“No catheter. Not yet.”
“Not ever,” he grumbled, attempting to sit up.
I planted a hand on his chest, gently urging him back as I pushed the button to raise the bed.
“I’m not an invalid.”
“Maybe not. But no sense overdoing it.”
“I have to take a piss.”
“Thanks for the broadcast.” I motioned for the bathroom. “Feel free. But I want you to go slow.”
The Ransom I used to know would’ve put me in my submissive place, but this one simply grimaced as he got to his feet. After dragging the IV stand around, I stepped back, not wanting to hover as he steadied himself.
He made it two steps before he peered down. “Where the fuck are my pants?”
“In the hazardous waste bin,” I answered with a grin.
“That’s gonna cost me,” he said with a sigh, then continued toward the bathroom.
I did my best not to admire him from behind. Not easy to do when the black and red boxer briefs accentuated his phenomenal ass and his muscular thighs. I watched until he disappeared into the bathroom, then turned my attention out the window to the courtyard pools beyond.
There were probably a dozen people out there right now, most of them possessions in training attending to the staff. Early evening did seem to be the time everyone ventured out, entertaining themselves (or each other) by utilizing the outdoor amenities. While I had spoken with him, I hadn’t seen Talon since our return to the island, but that wasn’t unusual. Rarely did I venture over to the offices of Owned, Inc., housed on the second floor of the main residence. Nor did I go to Talon’s private home on the third and fourth floors. Most of my time was spent here in the well-equipped clinic, in the Owners’ Retreat tending to the possessions, or in my villa a short distance away.
“I hope you don’t plan to keep me here much longer,” Ransom said as he strolled out of the bathroom, looking far steadier than before.
Realizing he had removed the sling, I glanced at his chest, noticed the angry bruise that diagonally crossed his pectorals, put there by the seat belt he’d been wearing when he crashed. Thank God he’d had the sense to wear it.
“Just waiting for you to wake up.” I motioned toward the bed. “Sit and I’ll remove the IV. Then”—I used my stern doctor voice—“once you put the sling back on, I’ll show you to your villa. And if you’re hungry, I’ll explain how to order your meals.”
“Order? Like a hotel?”
“Technically, the Owners’ Retreat is a hotel.” I removed the tape securing the needle in his arm and gently pulled it free, pressing a cotton ball to his skin with my thumb. “Talon has it structured that way because of the frequent guests who come here.”
“Guests?”
“Potential Owners,” I explained. “But it’s a private resort.”
Ransom frowned.
Evidently Talon hadn’t explained the details of what transpired here on the island of sin and debauchery.
Because I had no