His voice is low. Rough from exertion. But laced with something else.
Warmth.
I push off the doorframe, heart doing something strange and soft in my chest as I step inside.
“I was counting,” I say, crossing my arms.
He finally turns to face me fully.
And that’s when I see it.
The sheen of sweat on his skin isn’t just from the workout. There’s a faint pallor beneath his usual gold-iron tone. A hollowness just under his eyes. Subtle, but there.
Too subtle for anyone else.
But I know him now. I know what he looks like at his best, andwhat he looks like when his body is holding itself together with nothing but adrenaline and the force of his will.
After all I’m still a nurse.
“You’re pale,” I say sharply, eyes narrowing.
“I’m always pale,” he mutters, wiping the towel across his chest.
“Not like this.”
I walk right up to him and press a hand against his shoulder, guiding him back toward the bench.
“Sit,” I command, more forcefully than I intend.
He raises an eyebrow. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, letting himself drop down onto the bench with that rare, amused look that only appears when I’m raising my voice. “Anything else you’d like while I’m at your mercy?”
“Plenty,” I reply, kneeling slightly to look at his face more closely. “But let’s start with the basics. Did you even sleep last night?”
He doesn’t answer right away.
And that’s enough of an answer.
I tilt my head. “Aslanov.”
“I tried,” he says finally, quieter now. “Didn’t last long. My head was... loud.”
My chest tightens, that ache from last night still not fully gone. I reach up and brush damp strands of hair from his forehead.
“Okay,” I murmur. “Here’s what’s going to happen.”
He watches me, waiting.
“We’re going to take a bath,” I say, brushing my thumb across his cheekbone, “then crawl back into bed. Just you and me. All day. Do you have anywhere to be?”
His mouth curves, but not into a smirk this time. It’s soft. Honest.
“I arranged most things already this morning,” he admits. “Dominik’s in motion, Sawyer has Brighton locked down, Ada’supdating surveillance routes. Everything that matters is in place.”
“Then you’re all mine.”
“Yes,” he says, voice a little rougher. “All yours.”
I smile faintly and press my forehead to his for a second, letting our breaths mix.
