“I may not have a choice. Shiori is on her way.”
“How’d she . . . ?”
“I called Knox. He contacted her.”
A shard of pain lanced his brain, as if trying to cleave his head in two. He groaned.
“Don’t try to talk. Just rest.”
With her soothing continual touch, he drifted off again.
• • •
NEW voices by his bedside roused him.
“How did he get there after the injury?” a man asked.
“Apparently he drove his motorcycle.”
“Impossible. There’s no way this man was capable of operating a vehicle.”
“You don’t know my brother,” Shiori retorted. “He can block out pain, bend it to his will, use it to his advantage.”
“Determined man, is he?”
“Very.”
“Unfortunately determination is no match for trauma to the head. I see you’ve requested your own physician?”
“Physicians. I’ve contacted the medical team I want assessing and treating him. Nothing gets done without my permission, understand?”
“I’m right f**king here, Shiori,” Ronin interjected. “Don’t talk about me like I’m in a goddamn coma.”
“But you’re not really here, are you? You’re drifting in and out of consciousness, which is why someone needs to make these medical decisions for you.”
It took too much effort to open his eyes and glare at her.
“I know better than anyone how you get when you’re injured. Case in point—you’re strapped down. The orthopedist hasn’t been in, nor has the neurologist, nor the plastic surgeon.”
“Why the f**k do I need a plastic surgeon?”
“There’s a nasty gash above your eye. A split in your lip. Your nose is swollen. It might be broken again.”
“Like I give a shit about how I look? Get. Out. I don’t want—nor do I need—you here.”
“Ronin.” Amery’s soft hand brushed his cheek. “You aren’t thinking straight if you believe your sister has an ulterior motive besides getting you the best medical care as soon as possible.”
He must really be f**ked up if he heard Amery defending Shiori.
“We’re ready for him in X-ray,” someone said.
“So what’s it going to be?” Shiori asked.
“I’ll let you make my immediate medical decisions, but not personal ones. Amery stays with me as long as she wants to.”
“All right.” Shiori kissed his cheek, then whispered in Japanese, “I only want what’s best for you, brother.”
“She’s what’s best for me.”
• • •
WHEN Ronin woke up the next morning, he half expected to be in his bedroom, the events from the previous night some sort of bad dream. But he was in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV with a cuff thing on his arm.
He had a vague recollection of being X-rayed head to toe. A chatty doctor providing running commentary as he stitched Ronin’s head and lip. Another doctor forcing him to do leg lifts to gauge damage to his kneecap. Amery’s hand in his as they wheeled him into a private hospital room. Then nothing as pain and consciousness faded away.
He blinked his bleary eyes. The shades were drawn, and the only light in his room came from the fixture above the sink. But that scant light bathed Amery in an ethereal glow.
“You’re awake.”
“Your beautiful face is the very best thing to wake up to.”
“Beautiful. Right. I look like hell.”
“Still brushing aside my compliments.”
She moved closer. “I’m chalking them up to your muddled brain. What do you remember from last night?”
“The very last thing?” He frowned. “Did you really ask me how I liked being strapped down for a change?”
She smiled. “Yes. I also said I could see the appeal of binding from the other side.”
“Evil woman.”
“Just an opportunist.” She pointed to the strap dangling from the bed frame. “Did they release your restraints, or did the ninja master manage to undo them by himself?”
“Sometime during the twenty million times the nurse poked me awake, she freed me.” Ronin shifted his arm, and the movement caused a sharp pain in his shoulder. “How long did you stay?”
“Until your pain drugs kicked in and you were down for the count. Knox gave me a ride home and moved your motorcycle into the back room. Which meant I had to stick around to tell Molly why your bike was there. I postponed a client meeting, changed out of my blood-spattered clothes, and grabbed these.” She set his cell phone and his keys on the side table.
“Thank you for all that. But mostly thanks for coming back.”
“I almost didn’t.” Amery ducked her head, and her strawberry-blond hair covered her face. When a drop of wetness landed on his arm, he realized she was crying.
“Baby. Can you look at me?”
She raised her head. Her blue eyes flashed a message of anger and fear. “Do you have any idea how terrifying last night was for me? Seeing you like that and then hearing you admit things were left unfinished between us? Dammit, Ronin. In the past five weeks, after you stopped calling, I assumed you were done with me.”
“Done with you,” he repeated. “Maybe I assumed after calling you sixteen times a day for seven days after you walked out on me and you didn’t return a single phone call that you were done with me.”