Page 97 of Healing the Heart

“I’ll get blood on it,” she protested.

“It will wash,” he assured her, not sure that it would, but she was shaking, and he needed to get her warm.

While he held her close and rocked her, he called the Rossi control center who would make all the other necessary calls—911 for the police and an ambulance, Keiran and the team, and Brent Owens.

“Thank you for finding me, Noah,” she whispered against his neck.

“I didn’t, kitten—”

She flinched violently. The bastard had called her kitten and kitty, ruining that forever between them. Suppressing the overwhelming desire to return to the bedroom and beat him more, he replied calmly for her sake, “All I did was come home, baby.”

“But he had a knife and a gun, and is out cold, tied up in there while I’m here, warm and safe in your arms. So, thank you for coming home and saving me, Noah.”

He didn’t deserve her praise, so he squeezed her in response. “I’m thankful I never got around to throwing out that broken setof cuffs. Jordan wasn’t really a dominant. If he was, he would have realized the importance of checking his equipment.”

“It sounds like we have a lot to be thankful for,” she said, her arms flexing tighter around his neck. “I’m most thankful to have you.”

Something he needed to know but didn’t want to find out had to be addressed. “Fiona,” he said as gently as he knew how, while his hand moved soothingly up and down her back, “did he hurt you aside from what was visible?”

“No,” she whispered. “That would truly have been horrible.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Noah. He wanted to hurt me, but, even more so, he wanted to save the...uh...festivities, until you arrived.”

Her voice hadn’t faded when a thunderous bang, loud enough to rattle the windows, resounded through the condo.

“That will be the Rossi cavalry,” he assured her over her screams.

“Doc! Fiona!”

“In the office,” he called in response to Samson’s booming shout. “Hopefully, the ambulance is right behind them.”

Still breathing hard from this last fright, she shook her head. “I’m okay. I don’t need to go.”

“I counted seven cuts without turning you over. They need to be cleaned, some may need to be stitched or glued, and you’ll need antibiotics.”

She sighed. “Can’t you do it?”

“I’m a doctor, baby, not a pharmacy. They’ll probably want to inject the first dose, at least.”

“Yay,” she replied unenthusiastically.

The boots pounding down the hallway stopped in the doorway.

“You’ll find him tied up in the bedroom,” Noah explained to Samson and Keiran.

When they moved on, Eric took their place. His gaze swept Fiona from head to toe, but she was almost entirely covered.

“Are we good in here?” he asked.

“She’s got some cuts that need tending to. Send the paramedics in when they arrive.”

He turned to glance down the hall at the faint wail of sirens. “I’ll go direct them.”

“Thanks. Can you do one more thing? Call Val. We’re going to need a referral.”

His eyes were gentle on her as he replied, “I’ll do that no problem.”

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