Page 50 of Impenitent Claim

“Just let me tie this up, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”Because I don’t trust myself to stay any longer.

Isabella huffed loudly and blew into the room. She dropped beside me, nudged her shoulder against my calf, and barked, “Move.”

The urge to haul her over my knee was strong. But I pressed my lips tight and inched to the side.

Isabella drew out a box from under her sink. It looked like a handyman’s toolbox, and sure enough, when she slid the lid back, that was exactly what it was. Inside, however, was an array of medical supplies. Isabella riffled through the contents, takingout several packets of gauze, some self-adhesive wrap, and a suture kit.

“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to the toilet.

I crossed my arms.

Drops of sticky warmth fell on my torso.

“Ilya,” she hissed. “Sit down, so you don’t bleed all over my rug.”

I flicked a glance and saw that there were several dark spots on the plush cream carpet under my feet. “No.”

“No?” she repeated.

My voice turned rough, the Old World accent becoming more pronounced. “I don’t capitulate to demands.”

“Demands. Demands?” She raised her hands. “I’ll give a freaking demand.”

Her tiny fingers jabbed into my chest. The slight poke was nothing short of cute.

I grinned. “Just say please, rusalka.”

A look of pure outrage consumed her features. That delicious mouth opened in a perfect O. Fire danced in her eyes. And her body went rigid with wrath.

To force her hand, I reached for the washcloth and prepared to rip it.

“Alright!” she hissed. “Pleeaaseesit down.”

“Now that’s more like it.” My grin only widened as I took a seat. Jaw working back and forth, Isabella stepped into me, beginning her examination of the wound. At this height, we were almost at eye level.

“What happened?” she asked again.

“A bullet nicked me.”

She nodded once. “It’s going to need stitches.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” She moved to turn on the light.

“No lights.”

Her hands fisted as she slowly turned back to me. “How in the hell am I supposed to stitch in the dark?”

Each word came out tight and strangled.

I leaned back against the water tank, which shifted under my weight. “Point a flashlight on the wound if you must but don’t turn on that overhead light.”

“Of all the—” She stormed into the bedroom and returned moments later with several candles. “Do you even have a good reason for that ridiculous request?”

Yes.“Get to work, princess. Time’s a wastin.”

“Do you have somewhere to be?” she sniped, dashing antiseptic on the wound.

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