Page 57 of The Duke's Virgin
I’d found myself thinking about inviting her back to Luxembourg.
What kind of madness had fallen over me to think that?
But I’d been so close to asking.
Even though it scraped raw that she’d turned and walked away, I couldn’t risk therenotbeing distance between us because the more I was around her, the less distance I wanted.
But now that I had it, I hated it.
Shoving the emotional turmoil aside, I eased into the room, my gaze on the man in the hospital bed before me. His vivid red hair was the only real color. Everything else was muted, from the sheets to the casted arm lying across his abdomen, to the dull, faded bluish gray gown that only covered part of his chest, the snaps that were supposed to hold it closed undone on his right.
He also had a leg elevated, a cast starting just below the knee. His eyes were closed, and I moved quietly, not wanting to wake him.
“Mom, Dad…I told ya…get some food, get some air.”
“I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but this is the first time anybody’s ever called me Mom or Dad.”
Emmett lifted his lids and turned his head, giving me a good look at his bruised, scraped face. His dark blue eyes seemed even darker, thanks to the double set of black eyes, and his lower lip was swollen. He grinned at me, then winced, lifting his good hand to press to his mouth. “Fuck you for making me smile, Luka. What are you doing here? Mom told you I was okay.”
“What am I doing here?” Annoyed, I took the seat next to the bed and glared at him. “I understand why you’re perplexed, Emmett. My best friend was in a wreck that could have killed him, and I learned about it in the fucking newspaper since nobody on the team thought to call me, but it was silly of me to want to see you, talk to you personally to reassure myself.”
He winced. “Okay, I sounded kinda like an asshole there, didn’t I? I just…hell, man. You got enough going on in your life. You don’t need to be worrying about me.”
“And if the situation was reversed?”
He took his time answering, reaching up to scrape his nails through the gingery brown growth of stubble that darkened his face. “Well, I guess I’d be busting my ass to come check on you too,” he finally admitted.
“Well, then. That’s why I’m here.” I studied the bruises, then looked at the other obvious injuries. “How badly are you hurt?”
“I’ll heal.” He went to shrug, then stopped, pressing his good hand to his side. “Bruised ribs. You should see what I look like under this gown, it ain’t pretty. I’m bruised so bad, you’d think somebody beat me with a lead pipe. They…ah, well, they did have to do surgery. I ruptured my spleen, and they had to take it out. It was laparoscopic, so I don’t even have a sexy scar or anything from it.”
“A sexy…” I rubbed my hand over my face. “You son of a bitch. Priorities.”
“Hey, I’m the one who got thrown around like a ragdoll in that fuckin’ car. I can make all the morbid jokes I want.” He shot a tired sneer at me, careful not to move his mouth too much. “Ribs aren’t broken, though, so that’s good. If it wasn’t for these two fucking casts…I’m out for the season, man.”
“It could be worse,” I told him.
“That’s whatwe’vebeen telling him.”
At the familiar feminine voice, I looked up and rose to greet the woman. Emmett’s mother, Ellen stood in the doorway. Her red hair, a shade or two brighter than her son’s, framed her round face in a tangle of ringlets instead of her normally smooth coif, and there wasn’t even a hint of makeup on her face. I couldn’t imagine how she had to feel for that to happen.
In all the time I’d known her, she’d never looked less than perfectly put together. Emmett told me she wouldn’t even get gas without “putting on her face.”
She looked younger than she was and despite the obvious exhaustion, she smiled at me, walking toward me with her hands outstretched.
I pulled her in for a quick hug and nodded at her husband, Dale.
“You didn’t need to come, but I’m not surprised to see you, sir,” he said.
“Of course, I came.”
“I’msosorry nobody from the team contacted you,” Ellen said, giving me one last squeeze. “I’ve been onto the manager about it, and he’s just not telling me anything.”
“I’ll handle it,” I assured her.
“Y’all quit standing by the door. I can’t hardly hear anything you’re saying.”
“He’s always been so nosy,” Ellen said, smiling at me.
