High Stakes (The Kingdom Book 2) (4 page)

I turn and make it back to the edge of the bed, resting my hands on the edge and trying to support my weight as best I can as I know I don’t have the strength to climb back in.

It was a stupid idea to try this on my own but despite everything I still hate to be dependent on anyone, even if I know I can’t do it on my own. But this time I am defeated.

The door clicks open and one of the male nurses comes in.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he asks.

“I need to pee, but I …” My voice wavers at the fact that I can’t do a simple thing such as take myself to the bathroom.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t realize how much your body would protest, I know. Here, let me help you.”

He comes to my side and I hold on to his hand as he supports me around the waist with his other arm. He guides me towards the chair that Denham has spent the whole time sitting beside me in, but before I can make it to sitting, my eyes start to feel fuzzy around the edges and I lose my balance. I fall into the nurse, clutching for anything in front of me that I can grab but finding nothing and relying on the nurse to catch me. Luckily, he does or I could have been sporting another lump on my head and a double concussion.

“What the hell?” Denham’s voice reverberates around the room and he rushes to me. “Get your hands off her,” he orders sharply.

“Mr. King, she needs to get back into the bed, now if you’ll let me do my job,” the nurse says firmly but politely.

“No, if you think I’m going to let you touch my girl, especially when she’s wearing next to nothing, then you’ve got another thing coming. I’ll do it,” he growls. “Come here, Trouble,” he says softly to me. He shifts me out of the grip of the male nurse, who turns to leave, shaking his head as he goes and then Denham scoops me up in his arms before placing me back on the bed and covering me up to my neck with the sheet. His possessiveness makes me feel safe. Jonny was always possessive for his own personal reasoning, but Denham’s way with me is totally different. He’s actually protecting
me
.

I let my head roll back onto the pillow and close my eyes to soothe the throbbing feeling pushing its way around my head. After a couple of minutes, the dizziness slows and I open my eyes a fraction.

“I’m ‘Trouble’ now?” I ask sadly.

Denham’s soft laugh makes me feel warm, “Yes, it seemed appropriate.” He brushes my hair from my forehead and kisses me softly.

“You haven’t called me that for a while,” I ponder sadly. I warned him at the very beginning that I was trouble, and look what has happened “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be crazy, Arianna, you’re still my stunner. It just seemed like a ‘Trouble’ moment. I told you to stay put, you ignored me.”

“I needed to pee.”

“Do you still need to pee?”

“Yes … No,” I say indecisively. “I’m so tired. I need to sleep.”

“Okay. Sleep, Stunner. I’ll be right here,” he murmurs softly. He takes my hand in his, and in turn kisses the tips of each of my fingers.

I sleep. In fact, I think I pretty much sleep like the dead, and when I wake, it is dark outside. Denham is still by my side. He’s asleep, and his head is resting on the edge of the bed. His hand rests on my thigh, I presume to make sure I don’t try to escape. I run my fingers gently through his hair, and rest my hand on the back of his head. He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping.

“You know it’s weird to watch people when they sleep?” he mumbles, and I laugh softly.

“You watch me.”

“I do not!”

“Do to!”

“Yeah, you’re right, I do,” he says while lifting his head from the bed and smiling at me. “You’re just as beautiful when you’re asleep as when you’re awake … I guess that makes us both weirdos, huh? A perfect match.”

He stands up, shaking out his legs and stretching his arms above his head. His tee rises just enough to let me see a little of that delicious ‘V’ that I love and I can’t help but look.

“Not until you’re better,” he says.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me like you want to eat me, Arianna. And you’re not physically capable right now, so think about something else,” he orders.

“You’re bossy,” I grumble, fidgeting in the bed and rearranging the covers.

“Yes, I know … How are you feeling?” he asks.

I think about it for a second. “Actually, I feel great in comparison to earlier. My head doesn’t throb nearly as much and my body doesn’t feel as numb.”

“Good, if you keep feeling better, then I can take you home tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I want to go now …”

“Stop being a diva … Tomorrow.”

I let out a dramatic huff, which has Denham smirking to himself while he writes something on the chart at the bottom of my bed.

“What are you doing?” I question. “I’m sure that’s only for the doctors and nurses to use.”

“Never you mind,” he says tapping the end of his nose with his finger. “Don’t worry, I’m not messing with the meds or anything,” he chuckles.

I shake my head at him and laugh. When I look around the room, I notice the flowers. Two huge bouquets, one white, lilies and orchids, and one pink with a rose and other pretty flowers scattered through it. “Who sent flowers? I haven’t even been in here a day …”

“Beth sent the white bouquet, there’s a card there too. I’m guessing the other one is from your mom.”

“My mom? She knows I’m here?” Oh god, that must have been awful for her to find out I was in the hospital. “Did you speak with her?”

“Yes, I thought I had better call her to let her know what had happened. Her and Brent are out of town for a few days so she said she’d send some flowers and she wants to speak with you as soon as you’re up to taking calls.”

“Thank you,” I say appreciatively.

“Of course, Ari.” he says, frowning as if I’m crazy for thinking he wouldn’t do all of those things. “Lottie has been calling me off the hook to find out how you are, so as soon as you’re up to it you need to call her too.”

“Okay,” I say, lost in thought of the people nearest and dearest to me having to worry about me yet again.

“Hey.” Denham’s soft gravelly voice soothes me. “It’s okay, you’re going to be fine and you’ll be home in no time.” He pulls me gently into his chest and runs his thumb back and forth across my shoulder.

“Denham,” I say.

“Yes, Stunner?”

“Now I do really need to pee.”

He laughs before pressing the call bell without even arguing with me.

The female nurse from earlier comes and helps me to the bathroom, and then I get back into bed. It exhausts me, but I feel much better, and the sharp stabbing pain through my head is now a bearable dull ache. The reduced pain might be due to the painkillers they have given me, but it’s doing the job so I don’t care. Denham spends the time that I’m in the bathroom, making calls and sorting out The Kingdom and although I feel bad that I’m taking up his time like this, I can’t help but feel pleased that he doesn’t want to leave my side. I’ve never had someone be so protective over me, not in a possessive way, just because he wants to make sure I’m okay.

We eat, watch TV and Denham lies on the bed with me, curling me into him and we spend the night cuddled up together. We haven’t spent a night apart since Sunday, and I know I’m being spoiled by having him to myself. There will come an evening when I will have to be on my own but I don’t think I want to. That thought in itself is unusual for me, but I really enjoy having him near and the short time we have known each other seems irrelevant. We are grown adults with our own minds so it’s no harm to anyone.

When the morning comes, I feel so much better than I did yesterday, I’m not nearly as shaky on my legs and when I insist on visiting the bathroom without the aid of a nurse, Denham gives in on the condition that I allow him to walk me to the bathroom door. He holds my hands like a father teaching his child to walk, and reluctantly lets me close the door, insisting that I do not lock it. When I get done in the bathroom after freshening up and brushing my teeth, I open the door to Denham giving me a look of relief. He kisses my cheek before letting me link my arm in his for stability and leading me back to the bed. I stop at the bottom of the bed to look at the chart. I’ve always been curious about what they write on these things, and although I’m sure I won’t understand the medical lingo, they are writing information about me so I want to see. On the front page are my basic details. Name, age, height, weight etc. I didn’t realize I had lost so much weight and make a note to myself to rectify that in the coming weeks. When I flip over to the next piece of paper I gasp.

“You did this!” I say, half laughing, half shocked.

Denham looks at me sheepishly and lets out a small shrug before opening his mouth to speak then closing it again, not knowing what to say.

“I …”

In big bold red letters are the words NO MALE NURSES.

“Denham,” I scold “You do know you can’t do that …”

“Who says?” he says petulantly.

I can’t pretend to be mad at him. It makes me laugh to think he can choose who delivers my medical care. I’m pretty sure you can’t pick and choose what doctors you have.

“You’re so cute,” I say, laughing.

“Am not.” He pretends to sulk and I hold out my arm for him to help me.

“Come here,” I say.

He steps into me and he crouches so he can nuzzle into the crook of my neck.

“I’m not having another man put his hands on you when you’re vulnerable, unless you’re in danger and I’m not here.”

“But you weren’t here when the male nurse stopped me from falling.”

He frowns and looks troubled. “No, I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Ari, I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me. I promised you I would be, and I’m going to make damn sure it won’t happen again.”

“Denham, I was kidding. You can’t be with me all the time. As much as I want you to, it’s just not possible.”

He stays silent for a minute, hugging me as tight as my bruised ribs will allow.

“Can we call the nurse and see if I’m allowed to leave today? Please?”

Denham levels my eyes with his and searches for something, a deep concentrated look that speaks to my heart. He moves closer to me, very slowly. His lips brush mine, back then forth and he presses a meaningful kiss on my lips. So tenderly, it makes me sigh.

“Let’s see if we can get you home,” he says when he breaks away.

“Sounds good to me.”

MUCH TO MY DISAPPOINTMENT,
I couldn’t be discharged from the hospital. The nurses wanted to run more tests and keep me in for observation a while longer. They also wanted to run more tests. So we spent the next twenty-four hours, eating, watching TV and snuggling in the hospital bed. We had a few raised brows from the nurses, but I didn’t mind. The doctor came fairly early the next morning and examined me. No permanent damage and nothing broken. I have pain meds to take, and strict instructions to call should there be anything I’m worried about. They’ve taken blood for testing just to see if there’s anything specific that caused me to black out, but the more I think about it the more I’m convinced that it’s a mixture of stress, and the lack of food I’ve eaten over the last week. The results will take a week or so to come back, so in the meantime I’m to rest and take it easy.

Currently I’m settled on Denham’s couch, covered in a soft woolen throw and being waited on hand and foot. My head doesn’t feel too bad at all, just a little fuzzy, and my ribs only hurt if I move too quickly or laugh hard. I’m still wearing Denham’s tee and shorts, and as much as I love to wear his clothes, mainly because they smell of him, I really feel the need to get washed and dressed. I can still hear him talking on the phone outside and I push the blanket off and sit up slowly.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Denham steps in from the balcony and comes directly to me. He’s stripped off his tee after being outside in the afternoon sun, and is just wearing a pair of very casual, loose fitting cargo pants. Other than gym wear, I’ve never seen him look quite so casual, but I’m not complaining in the slightest. He looks delicious.

“I was just …”

“Can I get you anything? Are you hungry?” Denham asks with a concerned look on his face.