Elijah wrapped his arm around her waist and urged her back toward the bedroom. “You have shadows in your eyes, baby. Don’t think about him. He can’t get to you here. You’re safe.” He halted her by the walk-in closet and pulled out a soft, long-sleeved shirt. It was a beautiful slate blue. Very gently he wrapped the shirt around her, sliding her arms into the sleeves and buttoning it up himself. She felt the brush of his knuckles against her skin with every button.

“Elijah.” Drake’s voice was insistent. “We have a situation. I need you out here now.”

Swift impatience crossed Elijah’s face and she caught a glimpse of the man she knew best. The one who was in command. Rough. Tough. The man who was whispered about. If he truly worked for Drake—and she couldn’t imagine him taking orders from anyone—then it was because he chose to follow Drake, not because it was in his nature. He was an alpha all the way, and she didn’t have a single doubt that he had done things that crossed the lines of legality.

Still, for all the cold fury gathering in his eyes, his touch on her was very gentle as he pulled back the covers and helped her into bed. The bed was raised and she was short, so it was a stretch for her injured leg. The moment he saw that, he lifted her, sitting her on the mattress and helping her slide her legs beneath the covers.

“Take a nap. Do you need a pain pill?” He caught up the paper she hadn’t written a thing on, glanced at it, then at her and tossed it aside.

She did need a pain pill, but Doc had told her not to take one unless she absolutely needed it. The laceration on her leg throbbed and burned, but not so much that she couldn’t stand it. She splayed her hand over her stomach, rubbed the small pooch soothingly, not even realizing she was doing it until she saw his gaze drop to the movement. There was satisfaction on his face. Instantly she stopped.

“When you have a chance, Elijah, I really could use a cup of tea. Black tea. With milk. I haven’t had a single cup of tea since I’ve been in the hospital and it’s my go-to comfort drink.”

“You’ve got it, mi corazon,” he said, and leaned down to brush her forehead with his mouth.

He had to stop doing that. Every time he did her heart stuttered and stammered and she lost all control of her breath. She didn’t want him touching her, let alone kissing her anywhere on her body. The moment he did, her entire body reacted to him. Melting down. Her brain short-circuited, and she couldn’t even push him away. What did that say about her?

“Damn it, Elijah.”