Page 25 of Beautiful Broken Obsession

Gentle hands turn me over onto my back. It doesn’t matter that the hands are gentle, the electric shock never is. For the first time I resent it waking me up as pain comes rushing over me. Milos is above me, his beautiful face tight with anger. A gentle hand runs over my cheek, then he’s gone, replaced by an older man—the doctor he said he was bringing. The doctor shines a flashlight into my eyes then runs his hand over me. I groan as his hands go over my head then down my side.

I’m up in Milos’s arms, then the world fades away again.

Chapter8

Celia

I come awake slowlyas pain pulls me from the dark. I find a thick gauze bandage beneath my fingers. A hand is around my wrist. “No, Celia. Do not hurt yourself.”

My eyes fly open at the electricity coursing through me. “Milos?”

His smile is gentle. “Yes, since it’s been a day the doctor was adamant the IV I demanded you have for pain be removed. I’m sorry you’re waking in pain. I have some pain pills I can give you if you need them.”

“A day?” The words don’t make sense, then all at once it comes back with the impact of a blow. “Keith—he almost…”

I’m in Milos’s arms. This time I welcome the electricity. Although I ache, the sting feels so damn good because it means Milos is here. If Milos is here everything will be all right.

“He didn’t though. He didn’t and he never will.” Milos runs his hand up and down my back.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Anything, Celia. I would do anything you needed. I’m glad you called me,” he whispers.

“Me too.” I moan as I clutch him tighter.

He pulls away. “I will call for something for you to eat. What are you hungry for this morning?”

All I can do is shrug. A hand goes up to brush my hair away from my forehead. Even though it’s gentle it sends a shiver through me that reminds me of all my aches and pains. “I’m not really hungry.”

Shaking his head. “You have not eaten in more than a day. Eat a little something for me, please.”

I give in, he said please. Could anyone deny Milos Levin when he says please? “Okay.”

His phone is in his hand, French flows from him in a rapid clip.

He speaks French? I shouldn’t be surprised by anything this man can do and knows by now. “That sounds like a lot of food,” I mumble.

“I asked for a selection for you to choose from,” he explains. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore, all over,” I admit. “But not as bad as it could be, I guess. Did you find him?”

Yellow glows with a feral light. “Yes.”

“Is he dead?” The question is out before I can stop it.

“Not yet. He wishes he was.” The words are quiet. Too quiet for the violence they throb with.

I study the palms of my hands. I had no idea they were scratched up from the rocks and pebbles on the dirt road. “Good.”

His phone goes off with an alert. “One moment,kotyonok.” Then he’s up from the edge of the bed.

Giving in to need, I watch him as he walks to the window of the room. Once again he’s in black on black. A sleek black button-down shirt with only the top button undone. The black slacks he’s wearing have a crease so sharp I can see it from across the room. His clothes have to be cut to fit him, as they so perfectly caress his body. Heat fills me at the memory of how it felt to be in his arms…oh god, knock it off, Celia.

I tear my eyes from him to roam the rest of the room I’m in. Holy crap, it’s huge. I’m on an enormous four-poster bed raised high up. Through an open door across from the bed, I see a large bathroom. The room is so large there is a sitting area with a long couch and a matching overstuffed chair, both in a pretty light blue silk. In front of the sitting area is a large flat-screen television. In the corner of the room near the bed is a small desk with a chair in white velvet.

Oh, I thought it was a window he’s standing in front of, but it’s actually French doors made of glass leading out onto a balcony, so we’re on the second floor.

There is a soft knock on the door. Milos ends the call. He crosses the room, muscle and sinew flexing impressively in fluid movement—just like the big cat of his last name. He opens the door to a woman in an actual uniform pushing a large cart that has three different covered dishes and carafes of orange juice, cranberry juice, and iced water.

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