Page 13 of Temptation
Those words of his sounded a bit ominous.
“I can take you out in the hospital gown, if you want.”
Nah. “I don’t think the world needs to see my ass. It’s great and all. I do work out, but…not needed for the reporters to get it on camera.”
He blinked.
She smiled at him. She’d used a wet wipe to try and rub some of the grime off her face. The dirt was still in her hair. Under her hospital gown. Between her toes. I want a shower. So badly.
“You’re fucking beautiful.” A growl.
She could have sworn it was…a disappointed growl. Maybe an angry one? Sloane blinked. “Are you angry about that?”
His eyes raked her. “How did Atlas Bennett know where you were?”
That question again. Time to answer the man and solve the mystery for him. “He followed the tracker I was wearing. The one in my bracelet.” She jumped off the table.
Instantly, Preston reached out for her. His hands curled around her arms.
“Unnecessary,” she told him, and she flashed him another smile. Her friend Lily never smiled. Truly, getting the woman to grin took enormous effort. But Sloane…she smiled all the time. Bright, happy smiles. Charming smiles. Disarming smiles.
Smiles that would never, ever let anyone know just how deep her darkness and pain truly went.
She’d learned to smile and hide the pain when she was just six years old.
No, I’m fine, Miss Addy. Her response to her first grade teacher. Just fell while I was chasing my dog. Totally fine. Nothing to worry about. She’d flashed her grin at her teacher. At the time, it had been a gap-toothed grin. I’ll be more careful. So much more careful. Pinky promise.
Her smile spread a little bit more as she gazed at Preston.
“You don’t have to fucking smile for me.”
She could feel the smile freezing on her face. Apparently, he did not see the charm in her smile. Huh. Maybe it was due to all the dirt still on her. Or the fact that she probably did not really look fucking beautiful. Instead, she probably looked more like fucking death.
“I am getting the hell out of here.” Blunt, hard words from him. “And you’re coming with me.”
Well, someone liked to give orders. Preston was making her plans much easier, yes, since she’d been trying to scheme a way to stay closer to him, but he didn’t have to be bossy about things.
Sloane quirked one eyebrow at him.
“Please,” he grated, and the word seemed to get stuck in his throat.
“Don’t say that a lot, do you?” A shake of her head. “I can tell because it sounds like rusty nails coming from your mouth.” His fingers had been bandaged. So had his forearms. “Did the docs find out what drug you were given?” The docs had run a million tests on her. It felt as if she’d been in that hospital forever. But, really, it had probably only been an hour. Two?
Maybe three?
A muscle flexed along his hard jaw. “They did a ton of blood work. Maybe they’ll figure that shit out. Maybe they won’t. Gonna take a while to get back all the tox screen results.” His gaze swept over her. “You coming with me in the gown?”
“No. I’m waiting for you to turn around or leave my little exam area so that I can dress. Just because you’re buried alive with a man, it doesn’t mean you strip right in front of him at the first occasion.”
He blinked. And made no move to turn his back or leave her exam area. “Why does Atlas Bennett have you wearing a tracker?”
“Why are you obsessed with Atlas Bennett?” she returned sweetly.
“Because I want to know if you’re screwing him.”
A nod. Fine. Fair question, she supposed. “Are you always this direct?”
“Are you screwing him?”
