Page 73 of Love Among the Ruins
Trust him to think of the worst case scenario. “It didn’t occur to me that I could have. I would have definitely sued you then.”
“You couldn’t have. I don’t own this hotel.”
“Killed in the line of duty,” she offered, watching the corners of his mouth twitching.
“Are you naturally always so clumsy? You’re always tripping.”
“Only when you’re around.”
“I was in the car. How did this happen?”
“I was rushing so as not to be late.”
“Do I have an effect on you, is that what you’re implying?” His long fingers trailed gently over her ankle.
“I rushed because I didn’t want you to get angry. One of these days I think you’re going to kill me.”
The hotel assistant stood by, looking at them both.
At least Dominic didn’t appear to be angry. But he didn’t need to hang around. She would go back upstairs to her room and stay at home today, raise her leg, ice her foot, whatever the solution was once she’d Googled it. “You should go. You’ll be late. You don’t want to keep Galatis waiting.”
“Fuck Galatis,” he muttered under his breath. She allowed herself the luxury of ogling him in his suit before reaching for the handrail. She tried to lift herself to standing again.
“What are you doing?” Dominic cried, putting his arm around her waist and making her sit down again. “You’ve injured your foot.”
“Oh, really?”
He rolled his eyes and ordered the assistant to hold the door open. Her eyes widened with shock and horror when he ordered her to put her arm around his neck.
“What? No?” Not after she’d seen him shirtless. She didn’t want to be within an inch of his body. Otherwise who knew how many more sleepless nights she would have?
“Stop being so stubborn.”
But stubborn was her middle name. She was rooted to the step. “I’ll take the day off and go upstairs to rest. You go on. I can make my own way up.”
“How?” he growled. “On your broomstick?”
Through her pain, she still managed to narrow her eyes at him. “It’s an electric broomstick.”
“You’re nothing like a witch,” he said quietly. “I wish you’d stop using that reference.”
Oh.Was that a backhanded compliment?
“You really don’t have to worry about me, Dominic.”
“I’ll carry you upstairs then.” He moved as if he was going to scoop her up from the step. Her body hardened as if rigor mortis had set in.
“I’ll ask the hotel guy. He’ll take me upstairs.”
“Over my dead body.”
As the shock of Dominic’s words landed, he did it. He scooped her up, lifting her easily as if she were a flimsy rag doll.
“Dominic,” she whimpered, feeling shy, and embarrassed, but liking the feel of his hard-as-stone arms, one across her shoulders, the other under her thighs. The scent of his cologne washed over her. She could get used to this; being in his arms and inhaling his scent as if it were the most addictive of drugs.
He was taking her to her room. She would have to suffer this for three flights of stairs. By the time she reached her room she would be a trembling, shaking mess in his arms.
She would rather die.
