Sin of Silence (Sinner's Empire #1) - Nikita Slater Page 0,21

a boy felt completely incongruous. There was nothing young and cute about him. He was all man with a good dose of terrifying. The older gentleman was looking at Jozef through the lens of family. So he was the uncle that Jozef had told her about when he told her that they would have to be married.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” he barked, losing patience. “Let’s get this over with. Everyone out. Jozef and the girl can stay.”

Shaun hated being called a ‘girl’. It was demeaning and completely inappropriate for a woman of her education and profession. Ordinarily, she would correct him by telling him she preferred her name, or if he must use a noun, then woman. She kept her silence though, not ready to antagonize him.

Jozef pushed Shaun farther into the room, making space by the door for the others to leave. The woman who had brought food and water to Shaun earlier in the day glanced at her as she passed. Her expression was pitying, which made Shaun wonder what exactly she was in for. She stiffened her spine. It didn’t matter. She was a medical professional, and she would treat Jozef’s uncle as she would any other patient. What happened to her after was irrelevant.

She was a doctor; her job was to heal.

Once everyone had left and the door was closed, she walked to the fireplace. She glanced around and, spotting a stool, pulled it closer. As she sank down, seating herself in front of him, she asked softly, “What’s your name?”

He stared at her; his sharp gaze somewhat malevolent. She hoped this was his default expression and that he wasn’t using it on her in particular. Because if he really felt toward her the way his expression was leaning, then she wouldn’t survive the night.

“You do not need to know my name to look at my wound, divka.” His voice was deep and guttural as he stumbled over his English.

She shrugged, and said in slow, halting Ukrainian, “I ask the names of all my patients.” She reached for his hand, going for his obvious injury first. “It makes it easier to ask them how they feel, where it hurts, how they were injured.”

He didn’t pull away as she unraveled the gauze bandage, pulling it first away from his hand, then his finger. She sank her teeth into her lip to stop the gasp that tried to fly out when she saw the damage inflicted on him. She lifted her gaze to meet his and was awed by the blank look he was giving her in return. They could have been at a tea party for all the indication of pain he was giving. He did not have the look of a man who had been tortured within the last several days.

“You are very brave,” he said mockingly, switching to Ukrainian. “You speak Ukrainian badly and are not shy to put me in my place. You must be very sure of yourself.”

“I’m completely terrified, actually, but as you are now my patient, I want you to be comfortable while I treat your injury. I thought you would be more comfortable speaking Ukrainian.”

He inclined his head toward her, his deep blue gaze taking on a thoughtful look.

She tugged his hand further away from his body, resting it on her knees, and inspected it in the firelight. She twisted around and said to Jozef, “I need more light, please.”

Jozef nodded and reached behind himself to flick on the light. He strode to the window to draw the heavy curtains across, blocking any view of them from the street. The wound on her patient’s finger was straight and even, as though it had been cut with scissors or hedge clippers. The cut was infected though and most likely quite painful. Puss oozed from the stump and the skin around the wound was white instead of a healthy pink. The instrument that had taken the finger had probably been dirty and the wound most likely hadn’t been sterilized after.

“Your wound is closing, but it’s infected. You need antibiotic ointment, a fresh bandage and a round of strong antibiotics.”

Shaun jumped as a bag landed next to her on the floor. She leaned over and opened it, immediately recognizing an array of medical aides. She glanced up at Jozef, who stood behind her chair, his arms crossed over his chest. He’d taken his leather coat off. She could now see the tattoos that ran all the way up his corded arms. The