He’d had no intention of leaving the kid this morning, but Marci had sent Grigori off for coffee and the hospital cafeteria’s amazing biscuit sandwiches because, and he was quoting here, “I don’t know which is annoying me more at the moment. Your face or that pit you call a stomach grumbling every ten seconds.”
He still brought her back a couple of honeycomb biscuits. He’d never thank her verbally for helping his nephew, but the biscuits should do the job.
Grigori came around the corner and stopped short. He wasn’t exactly shocked to see his nephew storming down the hospital hallways, yelling out, “Blayne!” Nor was he surprised to see half the staff trying to stop him. But why that dumb ass Fabi got so close that not only could Bold get ahold of his neck but now drag him along as he stalked the halls looking for that freaky little wolfdog was beyond him.
“Don’t just stand there,” Marci complained from behind Bold. “Do something!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Grigori moved down the hallway until he was about twenty feet from the boy. He planted his feet and barked, “Bold!”
Bold stopped, blue eyes narrowing. For a moment, he wasn’t sure the boy recognized him. For a moment, he was sure that Bold Novikov was going to charge him. So Grigori added, “Put your cousin down.”
Bold looked at the blood relative he had in his left hand. Shaking his head, he returned his gaze to his uncle and raised the hand holding his cousin. Then he shook Fabi a bit. “Where is she? Why won’t anyone tell me?”
“I’ll tell ya where she is as soon as you put your cousin down. You’re crushing his windpipe.”
Bold released Fabi. “Where is she?” he demanded again.
Grigori motioned to a room between the two of them. “Right in there. So you can stop acting like a putz.”
The boy gave a short snarl and stormed into the room. That’s when Marci felt the need to glare at Grigori and he shrugged in response. What had he done?
She wasn’t in the bed, but cold relief washed over him when he saw her standing naked by the large picture windows of her hospital room, staring out over the snow and ice outside. He hadn’t known what to expect when the horror of the previous night came back to him. When he realized she was not at his side, safe and healthy.
He took a brief moment to look her over. She had lots of lacerations that the docs had sewn up, but it looked to be mostly from glass. And there were a bunch of bruises that were already fading. But still… he remembered how her body moved the night before when he’d turned her over. He knew broken bones and spinal damage when he saw it. He knew because he’d caused his fair share of it. And although shifters could heal from the kind of damage she had faster than humans, it would still take months, maybe years to recover.
Yet here she stood, tall and strong.
Swiping a blanket she’d tossed aside from off the floor, Bo walked up behind her and wrapped it around her body. He didn’t release her, though, simply held her. Bringing his head down to press against the side of her face, he said, “Blayne?”
“How?” she asked.
“How what?”
“How did you get us to Siberia?”
“Siberia? What makes you think we’re in Siberia?”
“An unholy amount of snow and ice and friendly polar bears.” She pressed her hand against the glass, and that’s when Bo saw the three polar males outside the window. One had his black nose pressed against the glass and that’s where Blayne had her hand.
“They’re shifters, Blayne.”
“They are? But they’re so nice.”
“They’re sub-adults. And I think they were just staring at your breasts.”
“Oh. So no Siberia?”
“Nope.”
“That’s disappointing.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I still have something to shoot for.”
He pressed his lips against her cheek, and Blayne’s hand came up and stroked his jaw. “That was a hell of a kiss, Novikov.”
He chuckled and hugged her tighter. “Are you okay?”
“I’m still breathing. In my world that’s okay.” She looked down and gasped. “Oh, God, Bo. Your arm.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. It’s in a cast.” She pulled away so she could face him.
Her gaze went to his other shoulder and now Bo saw tears. “Your shoulder.”
Not knowing what she was talking about he looked down, saw the bandage on his shoulder. Now that he was aware of it, he felt the pain, too. That’s right. He’d been shot. He remembered.
“It’s okay.”
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “I’ve ruined your career. I’ve ruined you.”
Wow. When she went there, she really went there.
“Blayne, you’ve done nothing wrong.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I did this to you.” She pressed herself into him, sobbing against his bare chest. “God, what did I do?”
Not sure how to handle this, he did what he used to do ten years ago when he was confused. “Dr. Luntz?”
The sow appeared in the doorway, her face concerned. “What is it, Bold?” He motioned to the wolfdog in his arms.
“What on earth…” She rushed in, pressed her hand to Blayne’s forehead. “What’s going on?”
“Uh…she thinks she’s ruined my career and my life. Apparently this is all her fault.”
“Oh, honestly. The Novikov men.” She gripped Blayne’s shoulders and pulled her away from Bo. “Come on, dear.” She took her back to the bed. “You need to calm down. You need to stop crying. You know we can’t give you anything to do it for you.”
Grigori appeared in the doorway. The sight of him took Bo by surprise. Not because he looked substantially different—he didn’t. A little older, definitely a lot more gray in all that white hair, but that wasn’t it. It was seeing him at all, after all this time. And to see him looking so… concerned.
“What’s going on?” he demanded, his eyes on Bo.
“Now I need you to calm down,” Dr. Luntz snapped at Grigori.
“There’s nothing here we can’t handle. Right, dear?” she asked Blayne, trying to get her attention.
“I’ve ruined his life,” Blayne said between her sobs. “It’s my fault.”
“You haven’t ruined anything. He’ll heal. You both will.”
“He’ll never be the same. He’ll always be flawed. Damaged. Useless.”
Shocked, Bo looked at his uncle and Grigori began laughing, making Blayne snap, “It’s not funny!”
“Of course it’s not funny,” Dr. Luntz said, rubbing Blayne’s shoulders, and trying her hardest not to laugh as well. “You ignore him, dear. He’s an idiot. We’ve all come to accept that.” Dr. Luntz winked at Bo before sitting down beside Blayne.
“Now I want you to listen up—”
Dr. Luntz looked at Bo and he filled in, “Blayne Thorpe.”
“—Blayne Thorpe, because I hate repeating myself. Bold Novikov will be just fine. We have the best damn doctors on the Eastern Seaboard here in Ursus County, Maine. Finer than the boy deserves, and that’s a fact. But they stitched him up nice and tight and made sure that he’ll be back on the ice before you know it. The only thing that will ruin his career will be old age and the fact that he keeps willfully hurting people.”
“Only when they get in my way,” he tossed in.
“See? Even now he’s still as mean as a circus bear. So don’t fret. I just want you to breathe in and breathe out, real easy.”
Blayne did what she was told, several times, until she’d calmed herself down.
“There. Feel better now?”
Blayne nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Until your fever is completely over, we can’t have you getting too upset, now can we? And you know why, don’t you?”
“Because I’ll flip out and you won’t be able to calm me down without the risk of killing me.”
“Right. So you stay calm and
relaxed, for a little while longer. Okay?”
Blayne closed her eyes, waited a beat, before replying, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Good. This is how I like things anyway. Nice and calm. Loud noises just irritate me. Now, are you hungry, Blayne?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“All right. I’ll get you something to eat.” Dr. Luntz began to pull away, gesturing to Bo when she did. When he only gazed at her, unsure what she wanted, she sighed and grabbed his hand. She pulled him toward the bed and pushed at him until he sat beside Blayne.
“I’ll bring you both something.” She patted his shoulder before walking out, taking Grigori with her, the door closing behind her.
“Who was that?” Blayne asked.
“Dr. Luntz. She was the doc who helped us out after your tragic badger assault.”
“Until you know what it’s like to be stalked by badgers, don’t mock me.”
“Wouldn’t think of it.”
She rested her head against his bicep, and Bo couldn’t help but smile a little. She felt wonderful against him.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“You’re not lying to me?”
“I’m not good at lying.”
“I know. That watch did not cost fifty bucks. More like a grand, right?”
“Uh—”
“It’s okay. I’ll let you off the hook because it saved our lives, right?”
“You have no idea.”
“I do.” She looked up at him. “Thank you.”
“Stop. You’re going to make me all weepy-eyed.”
She laughed a little. “Yeah. Right.”
Blayne brought her right arm out from under the blanket, and Bo cringed when he saw that at least three of her fingers were badly broken. Her forefinger and ring finger twisted over the middle.
Bo reached for her hand, wondering why Dr. Luntz hadn’t fixed this when Blayne was still unconscious, when Blayne grunted and the three fingers gave a loud triple “Snap!” And like that, Blayne’s fingers were back in place. She made a fist, then stretched out her fingers, and sighed. “I thought those would never pop back.”
“Pop back?” Christ, was that what happened to all those broken bones he’d seen last night?
“Yeah. You know.”
Not really, but maybe it was best not to ask. As a fellow hybrid, he knew they each had all sorts of good and bad that came with their mixed bloodlines, and to be honest, he was grateful that whatever mix Blayne had, had managed to keep his little wolfdog alive.
“Do you mind if I lay down until she comes back?” she asked. “I’m still sleepy.”
“Yeah,” he admitted, “me, too.”
“Then lay down with me.” Blayne gave him a smile he was shockingly grateful to see. She quickly got under the covers of her bear-size hospital bed and pulled the other side back for Bo to get in there with her.
“Uh…Blayne, I’m sorta naked here.”
“So am I. I won’t tell if you won’t.” Her smile grew, and he knew she was easing out of her fever. “Come on.”
Not sure it was the right thing to do but wanting to do it so badly, Bo got under the covers. Blayne turned on her side away from him and then commanded, “Spoon me!”
“Woman, I’m naked!” he said desperately.
“Don’t whine, don’t call me ‘woman,’ and just spoon.”
Positive this was not the right thing to do but with little choice, Bo moved in behind Blayne. He did, however, try to keep his lower half as far away as possible. Not very effective though when Blayne moved back until her ass pressed against his groin.
“Perfect,” she sighed. Then she laughed. “God, Bo. Your cock is huge.”
“You’re trying to hurt me, aren’t you?”
“Nah. I like you too much for that.”
Yeah, but did she like him enough? Of course, by the time he worked up the courage to ask she was asleep.
Marci looked up from her plate of honey buns. “What?”
Grigori sat down across from her at one of the cafeteria’s booths. “I thought you were bringing them food.”
“By now they’re out cold. I’ll feed them when they wake up again.”
“She’s a cute little thing, isn’t she?”
“Uh-huh.” Marci knew where this was going.
“But a wolfdog?”
Typical. Wolfdogs had the worst reputation among the hybrids, but Marci had never thought that was fair. “Seems to me she has more to worry about. Did you see that mane on him when he was looking for her? It grew in sudden, ya know? It wasn’t there when we brought him in.” She ate a bit of honey bun before asking, “How is Fabi, by the way?”
“I sent his dumb ass home.”
“That boy is dumb, Grigori.”
“Just like his father.”
“Speaking of which—”
“No. He’s not coming to visit.”
“Dumb. All of ‘em.”
“Thank you.”
“You and Bold don’t count.”
Grigori stared at her plate. “You going to eat all those honey buns?”
“You don’t even like honey.”
“We both know I’ll eat anything if it’s sweet and tasty.” Then he grinned, and Marci seriously considered throwing the whole plate at his face.
A barely audible chime had Grigori reaching for his cell. He pulled it off his jeans and answered. “Novikov.”
Marci went back to her honey buns, slapping at Grigori’s hand as he reached for one. He said little more than “uh-huh” into the phone, but when he hung up, he looked positively bemused.
“What?”
“That was Kerry-Ann. Seems she got a call from Niles Van Holtz.”
Alpha Male of the Van Holtz Pack? Calling the superintendent of their town? “What did he want?”
“He’s coming here.”
“Why?”
“To get the wolfdog.”
“You can’t tell me that the Van Holtzes would have a hybrid in their Pack.” From what Marci knew the Van Holtzes were almost as bad as the Prides when it came to that sort of thing.
“He’s on his way from Washington state to New York and then here. Even bringing a bear from Jersey with him. They’ll be here tomorrow.”
“For protection?” she asked with a laugh.
“Somehow I’m doubting that.”
“You think Bold will go back with them?”
Grigori shrugged. “Probably. He’s got the Llewellyn Cup finals coming up. He won’t want to miss that.”
“You know, you could visit him sometime. Maybe watch him play.”
The polar grunted. “He could invite me.”
“Oh, my God! You two!”
“What are you yelling at me for?” He snatched the last honey bun off her plate. “And I’m taking this because you owe me.”
“I don’t owe you anything but a swift kick to the ass. Both you and your nephew!”
“If nothing else,” Grigori said around that honey bun, “if Van Holtz comes for the wolfdog at least we won’t have to worry about protecting her.”
That was true. No one in Ursus County was a big fan of wolves, and any hybrid with more than one-eighth wolf blood was considered wolf. The poor child would be a walking target.
“Van Holtz coming here,” Marci said, looking out the window. “Won’t we need a red carpet for his arrival?”
Grigori laughed and Marci joined him.
Blayne woke up. She immediately became aware that it was now dark out, meaning she’d slept the entire day away, and that her bones had completely healed—and were about ten times stronger than they were before they were damaged—and that she was snuggled in close to Bo Novikov. Her face pressed against his neck, his cock pressed against her inside thigh—and he was sweating.
This was how they’d woken up together the first time, wasn’t it? Only there’d been no sweating because they’d both been fully dressed.
Wha
t could she say? She liked naked better.
Blayne dragged her hands up Bo’s back, enjoying the feel of his skin under her fingers. Slid her leg up his thigh, causing friction against his cock.
She felt his jaw tense against the top of her head, and she knew the sound she’d been hearing was Bo’s teeth grinding together. Smiling, she kissed his neck, remembering that interrupted kiss they’d had the night before.
When she made small swirls on his flesh with her tongue, Bo finally said, “Please tell me you’re awake.”
“Uh-huh.” She dragged her tongue up his throat to his tense jaw.
“Okay, okay,” he said desperately, “that helps. Um, uh…Blayne”—he groaned, his hands caressing her—“maybe we should hold off on this until, uh, you’re feeling better.”
“I feel great. Fever’s gone, bones healed, and I have way more energy than I know what to do with.” She rose up enough to look down into his face. “I need you to kiss me again.”
He peered at her with those clear blue eyes. “Won’t I be taking advantage of you?”
God, he was so cute! “Not even close. Now kiss me.”
He did, bringing his head up until their lips touched. Blayne let out a deep sigh, her tongue meeting his. Yeah, she remembered right—their first kiss had been that good. She’d worried that she’d blown it out of proportion because of what happened afterward. She hadn’t.
Bo’s hands slipped into her hair, his fingers digging into her scalp. His body came up off the bed, and Blayne was forced to sit up with him. She gripped his forearms with her hands, the fingers of her right hand taking hold of the plaster from his cast. Their kiss grew more intense, their tongues delving deeper as they fought for breath.
Blayne couldn’t believe how amazing this was, and it was only a kiss.
They had to stop. He had to stop. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop. Not when she tasted so wonderful, felt so good against him. He’d been waiting ten years for this, and he didn’t want to waste another second. But they weren’t in his house or her itty-bitty Brooklyn apartment. They were in the Ursus County Memorial Hospital, with the risk of nurses and doctors—good God! Or his uncle or Dr. Luntz!—wandering in whenever they damn well felt like it.