The words are clear enough, but they make no sense, and I decide that I must be woozier from the pain meds than I thought. The knife missed my femoral artery, thank goodness, but it was still a deep slash, and I now sport a lovely set of twelve stitches on my thigh and some even lovelier pain meds pumping through my veins.

“Ian Taggart,” he says, obviously seeing my confusion. “My boss. I quit. I’m not going back to work.”

That time I understand the words, but I’m still fuzzy on the meaning. “Why?”

His laugh is strangled, and when he cups my cheek and looks into my eyes, I see that the man looking back at me is just as wounded as I am. “Why? Because I can’t leave you. Because I’m staying here.”

My heart skitters, and I fear that the drugs and the pain have discombobulated my brain. Surely he’s not saying what I think he’s saying. Is he?

“You’re not going back to Dallas?”

“No.” He takes my hand, then kisses my fingertips. “I told you. I’m staying here.”

“Oh.” I lick my lips, barely daring to hope. “But you hate it here.”

He studies my face, his expression tender. “I did. I’ve had a change of heart.” He draws a breath. “I don’t want to scare you by moving too fast, but I love you, Natasha Black, and I want a chance to make this work between us.”

My chest tightens, and I can’t speak through the tears of joy that are trying so desperately to escape.

“I figure I can consult on films and television. Lyle and Matthew can help me line up work. God knows this town makes enough action movies that I won’t starve.”

It takes a moment for those words to process, and when they do, I take his hand. “I can’t… I don’t think I can handle that. Knowing I pulled you away from something you love. I don’t want you to resent me.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You might. But it’s more than that. It’s part of who you are. Just like it was part of who my dad was. And even though the worst happened to him, I wouldn’t want to go back and change who he was. And I don’t want to change who you are either.”

His brows rise. “Are you saying you want me to call Tag and tell him I’m moving back to Dallas after all?”

I smack him lightly on the chest. “Don’t you dare. But maybe you could tell him you’re open to freelance? When he needs you? And you could even do freelance work for Ryan, too. And the Hollywood consulting. That should keep you busy. The rest of your time can be devoted to pleasuring me.”

“Oh, can it?”

“Absolutely. In fact, you can start by kissing me.”