Page 30 of Seven Nights

I pull my hand back, point just my index finger toward the sky and order her to track its progress as I move it slowly left to right.

“Do you feel like you’re going to vomit?”

She rolls her eyes at me, her skin paling before she can finish. Dropping her gaze, she gives me another soft “no” then presses her lips tightly together.

Definitely stubborn as hell and lying to me. I pull my cell phone out, stab my finger at the contacts list a couple of times, hit CALL and put the phone up to my ear. Two rings later, a woman answers.

“This is Montgomery, send Doctor Bentley to my home immediately. There’s been a head injury and—”

“Has the victim remained conscious?” the woman asks.

Her voice is unfamiliar, but Bentley goes through staff as fast as he goes through submissives. The man doesn’t know when to lighten his touch.

“I believe so,” I answer, my impatience growing. I have a strong feeling I’m not getting Katelyn to go do a doctor just because she’s bleeding and it’s what I want. I really need the doctor to come to her. Otherwise, I would never ring Bentley. As it is, I will have to watch him like a hawk.

“I’m at the back of my property—”

“Dr. Bentley doesn’t do field visits,” the woman chides.

I can’t help myself. Katelyn is bleeding and turning a little green and Bentley’s newest girl is trying to convince me that I need to give a shit about what Bentley does and does not do.

“You did catch my name?” I growl.

“Montgomery,” she repeats. “I’m assuming that’s Mr. Griffin Montgomery and you are on the list of pre-approved house calls. But you aren’t asking for a house call, sir. You are asking for a field visit.”

Katelyn rolls away from me. I expect her to vomit at any second, but the stubborn fool is actually trying to get onto her feet. I use my free hand to grab the back collar of her running jacket and hold tight.

“Should I send Dr. Bentley to your house?” she asks before rattling off the address.

I answer with a terse affirmation and hang up, quickly re-pocketing the phone. With one knee planted on the ground, I slide an arm under Katelyn’s bent legs. I curl the other around her back to grip the opposite side of her waist.

“Put your arms around my neck.”

She balks at the order, her hands coming up between us to push at my chest.

“I can walk.”

“Love, I don’t care if you think you can run back to the house.”

I lift, forcing her compliance. She wraps her arms around my neck, lets me carry her the two feet to the ATV. I position her at the rear of the seat then slide into the driving position. Reaching back, I capture her wrists and wrap her arms around my waist.

“If you don’t hold tight,” I warn, “I’m stopping. I’m not going to have you pass out and hit your head again.”

Katelyn squeezes in response and we take off. With just a couple hundred yards covered, I slow down because her grip loosens. She catches herself, squeezes at me, then presses her cheek against my back. Her elbows dig sharply at my sides, but at least I know she’s still conscious and intent on holding on.

Katelyn

Melting into Griffin’s broad,muscled back, I try to keep a firm grip on his waist. The road ahead of us looks like a rollercoaster, so I close my eyes. It feels like they are closed for less than a second, but when I open them again, Griffin is carrying me once more as Philip holds the door open for us.

“I need crushed ice immediately,” Griffin barks as he brushes quickly past Philip and into the house. “And send Dr. Bentley to my room as soon as he arrives.”

Vision swimming, I can’t tell what wing of the house or halls we are moving through. It is only when Griffin sets me on a bed that my vision clears. I look around, immediately recognizing the lamp on the nightstand, the dark wood furniture, the bedding that is a mix of deep chocolate and burgundy—and the mink throw right where I left it.

“This is your room?” I ask. I had suspected it was, but the only clothes in the room are feminine and fit me (a logistical feat that would freak me out more than a little if I stop to think about it). The bathroom is also free of any product that a male would use.

“I misspoke,” he answers gruffly. “Philip knows where to send Dr. Bentley.”

He moves to place me on the bed. I tighten my arms around his neck.

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