Page 17 of Brutal Heir
Back to stone.
“Okay, we’ll start with your back and work our way down.”
He nods, teeth clenched.
My gaze dips to the patchwork of bandages that dip beneath the waistband of his slacks. Then to the perfect curve of his arse beneath those tight pants. My pulse accelerates, an unexpected wave of heat flushing my cheeks.Rory, you eejit! Stop that. Blinking quickly, I tear my eyes away. Here I am spouting shite about being professional and then I’m ogling my patient’s behind? What is wrong with me?
As I lift my gloved hands to his back and hover for an endless minute, it occurs to me that I’ve never worked on a patient so close to my own age. Isabella and Serena had mentioned their cousin had just turned twenty-four, only a year older than me. I blame the slip of my professionalism on that, and the fact that Alessandro Rossi, despite the scars, is a visually enticing male specimen.
Therefore, my reaction is simply physical, an instinctual, primal one I had no control over. And I allow myself a pass.
“What are you waiting for?” Alessandro’s growl tears me from the odd moment of floundering.
I gently place one hand on his back, and he flinches, the firm, unyielding muscles beneath trembling at my touch.
“Hey, boss! You’ve got another visitor.” A deep voice bellows across the massive space. Through the crack in the bathroom door, I can just make out the guard, Johnny, I’d met earlier.
“Thank fuck,” he rasps.
Before I can stop him, he grabs his shirt off the floor and ducks out of the bathroom.
“You’re going to have to let me clean those wounds sooner or later!” I call out after him.
“You’ll have to catch me first,” he hisses over his shoulder.
“McFecker,” I mutter with a snort. But I can’t help the twitch of a smile pulling at my lips. And damn, if I’m not tempted to chase him.
CHAPTER 8
THE BATTLE
Alessandro
“Never thought I’d be so happy to see you, cuz.” I heave out a breath and finish fastening the last button on my shirt. The wheelchair sits by the door, and I’m so damned tempted to slide into it. Less than a half hour on my feet and every muscle aches.
Matteo stands in the foyer, that typical mocking grin stretched across his face. “Did you forget about our chess date?”
Fuck, I did.
In the past month of recovery, it had been the only activity I looked forward to. The weekly chess match with my cousin was the only constant, the one thing that hadn’t changed since the damned explosion.
Every week I look forward to kicking his ass.
And that little Irish bombshell had made me forget all about it.
“A chess date, aye?” Rory appears from around the corner, and Matty’s eyes nearly pop out of his head as he regards her.
“Well, hello there, cutie, and who might you be?” His gaze lingers for a minute longer than necessary, and an unexpected pang of possessiveness lances across my chest.
“Your cousin’s worst nightmare.” She tosses me a smirk before extending her hand to Matteo. “Rory Delaney, pleased to meet ya. I’m Alessandro’s new nurse.”
I cringe at the word, hating the sound of it and all that it implies. That I’m weak, broken, useless. In need of a woman to take care of me.
Matty takes her petite hand, distracting me. It engulfs it in his oversized one, and a flirty smile crosses his lips. “Matteo Rossi, hacker extraordinaire and all-around tech-genius. And damn, my cousin is a lucky man. I think I’d suffer through an explosion if it meant you giving me a sponge bath.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I hiss.
With a mischievous grin, she releases his hand, shaking her head. “Oh, dear Matty, you couldn’t handle all this. Trust me.”
