Page 23 of Brutal Heir
“Bath after the physical therapy,” I announce, standing. “I get sweaty and the bandages chafe so there’s no point in doing it twice.”
“If the bandages and compression clothing were on correctly, they wouldn’t chafe.”
“Says you,” I grumble.
“Yes, says me, the professional.” She pins her shoulders back and rises to her tiptoes as if she could even come close to my height.
“Nurse Gwen was with me for a month, and it still bothered me every day.”
“Then she was a shite nurse.”
“She had over thirty years of experience. Longer than you’ve been alive I’d guess.”
“Fair enough but some things can’t be taught, they’re just felt. They’re innate.” She drops back onto her heels, but her gaze never falters.
Funny because by looking at her, she doesn’t seem to have a nurturing bone in her petite body.
“Anyway, if you won’t let me bathe you, then let’s at least get you fed.” She motions toward the kitchen.
I’m not going anywhere with her with this damned boner. I’ll shut myself in the bathroom until it passes. “I can feed myself, thank you very much. Besides, Mrs. Jenkins prepares all my meals.”
“Oh, yes, your father told me about your housekeeper. I’ve already emailed her your new dietary requirements.”
“What?” I howl.
“Burn victims need huge caloric loads for healing. Think high-protein shakes, small, frequent meals, and a load of supplements. I’ve adjusted her menu to include these necessities.”
She’s messing with my food now? This is just too much. I stalk closer, looming over her so that my chin nearly brushes the top of her head. The little red she-devil doesn’t even flinch. “I like my carbs. I’m half-Italian and half-Chinese, you know that, right?”
“Do I look like I care?”
“Fine, whatever. I’ll get my carb fix elsewhere.”
“Not under my watch,” she mutters under her breath.
Ignoring the comment, I try to dart past her, but my body simply doesn’t respond like it used to. So instead, I stumble as I attempt to get around, bumping my right shoulder against hers. Searing, white-hot pain blurs my vision, and I grit my teeth tokeep from screaming. Her hands shoot out, trying to catch me, but I whirl around and run into her again, rubbing my hard ass cock against her stomach.
Cazzo.
This earns me a sharp gasp, but the little firecracker doesn’t give up. Still, she attempts to steady me, wrapping her arms lightly around my bare torso, which only exacerbates the inexplicable heat rushing my veins.
“Just let go of me,” I shout.
“I don’t want you to fall,” she squeals back.
“I won’t, just stop touching me!”
The ragged hitch in my voice finally has her hands falling to her sides. Without hazarding a glance to meet those bejeweled orbs, I hobble toward the bathroom, the walk agonizing. Clenching my teeth, I don’t stop until I’ve slammed the door behind me.
Fuck… how am I supposed to survive six more days in close quarters with this tiny tyrant without losing my mind?
CHAPTER 11
BATH TIME
Alessandro
The scent of roasted meat and vegetables lingers across the great divide of the dining room table. Normally, I’d never eat in the fancy room by myself but with my new live-in guest taking over the kitchen island, I was forced to eat in here alone or in there withher.
