Page 65 of Barristers & Bones

“Yes.”

I glared at him. As apologies went, it was a shitty one. “Then you’re not really sorry, are you?”

“I know you’re in pain and won’t be able to sleep without pain meds. You can trust me to take care of you.”

I held up my ring finger with the wedding band. “I have excellent reasons to worry.”

He sighed, as if trying to reign in some patience. “Do you want me to bring the entire bottle out here so you can see it? Either way, you need something.”

He was right. My arm hurt, my jaw ached, and my stomach suddenly felt queasy. I just wanted to curl up somewhere, feel sorry for myself and maybe cry and sniffle a little, then sleep. “Fine. I’ll take them.” My eyes suddenly filled with tears, and an overwhelming sense of hopelessness flooded me. Turning my head away, I held out my hand for the pills.

Roman set the water down. “Fuck. Come here.” He picked me up, then turned us around so we sat in the lounger with me in his lap.

The bottom of my robe slid open up to my panties, but I didn’t care. I gulped on a sob but got myself under control. “Damn it, I hate crying. It never makes anything better.”

Living with my parents had conditioned me to keep my emotions locked down or they could be used against me, and breaking down in front of Roman, of all people, made me feel vulnerable and weak.

I started to slide off his lap, but he squeezed me to him. “Please stay. I just want to talk.” Sitting there, tense and unyielding, I thought through his request and then carefully relaxed against him.

He set his chin next to my cheek. “I’ve heard crying lowers stress and releases chemicals, so maybe it does help to cry. Here.” Uncurling his hand, he held out the two small white pills. “They’re just an over-the-counter pain medication with a sleep aid, I promise.”

Sighing, I picked them up. He reached over and grabbed the water, and I put the pills on my tongue and drank. His masculine scent enveloped me as I sat in his lap, mingling with the rosemary coming from one of the flowerpots nearby. As the blue hour approached, the Vegas skyline started to sparkle. We watched together for a few minutes as his warmth seeped into me.

“Can I ask you something?” I murmured.

His body tensed a little under me. “Yes.”

“What does Gideon really do for FUCK, Legal?”

He chuckled. “Your brain is fascinating. Gideon makes everything run and basically does whatever needs doing. He used to work for the FBI, but after a couple of unfortunate incidents, he resigned and we formed our firm.”

“You mentioned Heath worked with him. What did he do for the FBI?”

“He was an area assistant director.”

I shifted and looked up at him. “Wow, that’s pretty high up. Where’d you meet?”

His face went blank, and the peaceful feeling between us evaporated. “In Arizona.”

“What happened there? I’m from Arizona and know about that ranch facility where your parents sent you. I was only in elementary school at the time, but everyone heard about it.” I reached out and laid my hand on his chest, instinctively searching for his heartbeat.

The story dominated the news cycle, and the haunting photos that had leaked to the media after the FBI raid still gripped me.

He stared out into the dark. “Tonight isn’t the night to dredge up those memories.”

Roman’s mind seemed far away. He might be sitting here with me on his lap, but he’d been dragged back to the past, and I didn’t know how to bring him back.

“How’d you keep Sylvie away long enough to sneak your doctor into my room last night? And what did that slimy bastard give me?”

His arm tightened around my waist. “Drakos ran interference, and it was a liquid anesthesia.”

I waited for a few seconds, then poked him. “How did Drakos keep her away?”

“He pulled her into an empty hospital room, distracted her, and apparently warned her again he’s coming for her.”

No wonder Sylvie was so agitated. “What does that even mean?”

Roman shrugged underneath me. “It means he wants to date her.”

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