Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
It had to be Darius.
“We will need a doctor and a full surgical suite,” Isaak told Darius. “And yes, your man is well.” He looked at Mercer. “Are you hurt, Mr. Mercer?”
“No,” he replied sheepishly. Darius checking on him like he was nine was probably a bit grating, and embarrassing. “Please tell him I’m fine. I’ll be on a plane tonight.”
“You heard that? He’s fine. Quit with your worry,” Isaak groused, and that was followed by a lot of Russian. “I am not the one who worries like old grandmother.”
Dante was chuckling, and that made me feel better than anything else. If Dante was laughing, I was all right.
We rolled on through the Thai countryside, passing undulating green fields, low hills studded with trees, and single-story farmhouses with corrugated tin roofs and battered old pickup trucks dumped on dirt-track driveways. We passed fields of grazing cattle, ranches, and a handful of dilapidated rest stops. With the throbbing in my head, my vision was starting to blur.
“Owen,” I whispered, and he lifted his head off my shoulder to look at my face. “I think I’m gonna close my eyes for a bit.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” he said softly, sitting up straighter. “Why don’t you lean on me. I would love that.”
“Okay,” I grumbled. “But just to make you happy.”
FOURTEEN
Dr. Lens came back, because Darius wanted to keep the circle close and tight. Since she already knew us all, there was an ease with her there wouldn’t have been with anyone else. Plus, she could take care of living patients just as well as dead ones.
“I’m very glad to see the real you,” she told Owen, and he looked at me. I explained that she was the one who’d determined that his bodyguard was not him and then identified Peter Barrows as well so we could get him home to his family.
“Thank you for everything,” Owen told her.
“My pleasure,” she said, taking his hand in both of hers. “And you will heal up nicely. That gash on your cheek will heal well. You may have a trace of a scar, but hardly noticeable.”
“Thanks,” he said with a sigh. “I was hoping for a conversation starter, though.”
“Not this time,” she told him, then turned to me with a huff of breath.
“Oh, you can’t imagine I planned any of this,” I grumbled.
She shook her head. “I’m afraid you’re going to be out of action for a few weeks, Mr. Colter. From the bruising, I’m shocked that two or three of your ribs didn’t break. As it is, they are heavily bruised, and it’s going to take a minimum of six weeks for you to start feeling better. In the interim, I suggest small breaths.”
She was a riot. I glanced at Dante, who shrugged.
“What has me more concerned are the repeated concussions you sustained over the last few days. You do know you aren’t a young man anymore?”
Christ. In front of Owen too. “I’ve been reminded, yes,” I remarked dryly.
“You seem to still think otherwise. The body reacts to trauma differently as we get older. While you’re in excellent physical condition for your age, your body is nowhere near as well-honed or as muscular as it was in your youth. You’re over fifty, for God’s sake. What you’ve just put your body through, even a fit young person would struggle weeks to recover from.”
I had been in her care for over a week, and she and her two nurses were highly efficient. They didn’t argue with me about painkillers, just injected me with stuff that put me to sleep whenever they damn well felt like it, and now she was lecturing me.
“Dr. Lens, I can assure you that after this, it will be a cold day in hell before I do anything even remotely exciting.”
She grunted, clearly not believing me.
“You can go home now, Dr. Lens. All you’re doing is watching me heal at this point.”
She nodded sagely. “And we will continue to do so, Mr. Colter, until I am pleased with your progress. I decide, not you,” she said, her tone icy.
God. Another person in my life who didn’t listen to me.
Owen pressed his lips together and turned to look out toward the enormous deck of the villa we were staying in, courtesy of Darius.
The place was huge. Six bedrooms, seven bathrooms, on a hillside overlooking the Andaman Sea in Phuket. It was only fifteen minutes from Kamala Beach, Jing told me, and even though I told her to go and take Arden, neither wanted to leave me.
“Plus, there’s a pool,” she’d pointed out. “And a stocked bar, and it’s beautiful here, and peaceful, and…secure.”
It certainly was that. I’d never seen so many cameras and security. Owen updated the system on our third day there because he was bored, and with Garland’s help, moved things around so there was barely an inch of the villa he couldn’t see.