Page 13 of Queen of Misfortune (Shadows of Redemption)
“Finally, you get it,” I say, putting away the medical supplies.
“I’d think you’d be grateful.”
I make a face. “Why?”
“I did what you asked me to do. Remember? The other day at the compound when you first arrived? You made me promisethat I’d protect your sister. I jumped in front of Niko and took that bullet because he’s my Boss, but also because I knew Elena needed him. I fulfilled my promise.”
He’s right. I need to be grateful. Not that I care so much about Niko, because I’m still not sure about him. But Elena loves him, and when he looks at her, I believe I see love from him.
Before I can offer up my thanks, he asks, “You never asked me to protect you. Why?”
“Because I don’t need or want your protection. And you’re mistaken if you think taking bullets is brave. It isn't brave, it's foolish."
He shifts in the bed, grimacing slightly, but the smirk doesn't fade from his lips. "You're welcome, anyway."
“What do you want, a reward? Do you think I’ll be so grateful that I’ll fall into your arms because you've proven yourself so gallant?"
His smirk turns lecherous. “I’m grateful that the idea of you in my arms has crossed your mind.”
I want to punch him in his wound.
“I know I’ve thought about it. Dreamed about it. Tell me, what have you fantasized about me, Lucy?”
“Nothing,” I lie. Donovan with his big beefy, muscly body has haunted my dreams more than once. It makes me wish I’d packed my vibrator when I came to New York.
"Lucy.” His voice is soft, coaxing, and I hate that my name sounds different when it passes his lips.
"Stop saying my name like that!”
"Like what?" His eyes never leave mine, searching, probing and I feel myself failing at protecting myself.
"Like it means something to you." God, I’ve revealed too much.
"Maybe it does. I have feelings, you know."
Yeah, right. "Your feelings aren't my problem, Donovan."
“I could be good for you.”
I take a step back, putting more distance between us. "You aren’t my salvation, either."
The smirk fades, replaced by something softer, something dangerously close to understanding. "I'm not trying to save you, Lucy. God knows, you don’t need anyone to save you."
"Then what do you want from me? Why do you keep poking at me?” Dammit, I’ve said too much again.
He shrugs. “I don’t know, actually. I only know I like being around you. What I don’t get is that if you hate me so, why are you here? It’s almost as if you’re concerned about me.”
"Your health isn't my concern."
"Of course.” For the first time, the smirk is gone. His tone has an edge of bitterness. I should be glad that I’m getting through, and yet, I feel bad about my words.
"Why would my health be your concern, and yet, here you are."
I swallow and hope I look indifferent. "Consider it… professional interest. Your dying complicates things."
"Everything about you is complicated, Lucy."
It’s stupid, but his words hurt. I start toward the door.