Page 82 of Kindling
Hypothermia.
He should have been there earlier. He should have made sure she was safe.
“You did the right thing by bringing her in, pet,” one of the nurses said once Harper’s condition improved, squeezing his shoulder. “You should grab a coffee and sit down. Your wife needs to rest now, and so should you.”
He swallowed thickly, not quite able to choke out that she wasn’t his wife. She wasn’t his anything.
Except that wasn’t true. The cavern in his chest wouldn’t be quite so deep if she wasn’tanything. For just a flicker in time,she had felt like everything, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that.
He sank down into the chair beside her bed, refusing to cry even when his eyes seared.
This was his fault. He’d let her walk away last night. If he hadn’t pulled his head out of his ass for long enough to go and talk to her this morning, he wouldn’t have even known that she was in grave danger.
Groggily, Harper’s lids prised open. She was still pale, veins dark under translucent skin, but clarity was returning to her eyes.
Fraser wanted to reach for her hand, buried beneath layers of blankets. He didn’t. Instead, his fists remained firmly in his lap, nails digging into his palms.
Her focus landed on him finally and relief flickered across her face.
“Hi,” she croaked.
He gulped, unable to say anything.
“What? Do I look like a corpse?” Mirth danced in her sleepy voice.
He was in no mood to humour her.
“What were you doing, Harper?” he asked slowly, his voice fracturing as if his throat was filled with sharp, shattered glass. “Why the hell were you swimming at night, on your own, in the freezing cold?”
She shrugged. “I needed to clear my head.”
He fought not to recoil, his own words hitting him like a boomerang. He had told her that he went swimming in the loch when he needed to sort his head out. To reset.
She’d done it because he’d planted that idea, not thinking about the cold. Not thinking she would end up here. Not thinking that if she was seriously hurt, he’d have to carry that unbearable guilt forever. Why had she done that? He was just barely juggling his other responsibilities. He couldn’t bear this burden too.
He scrubbed a hand over his quivering jaw. “You brainless bloody numbskull.”
She flinched at this tone. “I didn’t think…” As she trailed off, se glanced around the hospital room as though only just noticing where she was. “I thought it would be fine.”
“You could havedied,” he snapped. “If I hadn’t found you—”
If he hadn’t found her, he couldn’t even finish that sentence. Whatever happened to her, it would have destroyed him.
This was why, he realised. Why he’d run away, why he’d pushed Harper back, why he’d told her to go for the job in England. He wasn’t capable of taking care of another person. He already had an entire army to work for and protect.
“Fraser…” Harper swallowed, with some difficulty. He sighed, standing up to roughly pour her some water from the bedside table. He handed her the plastic cup without meeting her eye, then sat back down as she sipped.
“I can call your parents,” he said tersely. “They’d probably want to know…”
“No. God, no. I’ll never live it down.” She shook her head, damp layers of hair coiling at the ends and framing her face.
He wanted to call them. He wanted somebody else to take care of her so he wouldn’t have to. So he wouldn’t have to keep worrying too much, keepfeelingtoo much.
Pursing his lips, he steepled his fingers together, glaring at his bitten-down nails.
“Why are you angry?” she asked quietly.
“I’m not.”
