“Siobhan?” Lyse reached for his mam’s hand, missing a couple of times before finally connecting
Siobhan squatted a bit to look into Lyse’s eyes. “How much medicine did they give you, dear?”
Fionn glanced at the prescription the nurse had passed them. “Not so much, from the look of it.”
His mother chuckled. “I bet you can’t hold your liquor either, can you?” she asked Lyse.
“What?” Lyse’s eyelids drifted down in long sweeps. “Where’s Sean?”
“He’s in surgery,” Siobhan told her. “I called Cathal, so don’t be worryin’ about that. He’s upstairs in the waiting room. He’ll call us as soon as Sean is in recovery, let us know how he’s doing.”
Tears gathered in Lyse’s eyes. “He’ll be okay?”
It was odd, seeing her concern. As if Sean were her brother. Fionn hadn’t seen her with family. Her parents had never visited her that he knew of, and her only brother had died a couple years ago. She was the lone girl behind her computers, no connections or entanglements.
Just those wide, innocent eyes staring up at him with adoration.
He wanted to forget the way she’d looked at him back then, the way she looked now, about to cry over Sean, because without those connections it was easy to be seeing Lyse in one dimension, just the woman who’d betrayed him, not the woman who, right now, stood to lose someone she cared about. That fear changed her in his eyes, and he wasn’t liking it.
“His heart didn’t stop,” he pointed out. “I’d take that as a good sign the bullet missed it.” What it had hit, they wouldn’t know till after the surgery, but that was a definite positive.
The tears spilled over, and his mam threw him a dark look. He had the grace to wince. “Too blunt?”
“Too blunt,” Siobhan bit out. She brushed Lyse’s hair back from her face. “Lyse, Sean’ll be all right.”
Lyse gave her a slow blink, squeezing out another tear to trickle down her cheek. “Okay.” She closed her eyes, opened them. Closed them again, and Fionn watched her body relax into sleep.
They sat in silence for a bit before his mam stirred. “I’m thinking I’ll see what’s taking that nurse so long.”
Fionn shook his head. “You’re not going wandering. There are men wanting to take you, remember?” Just the thought had his heart in his throat.
“Not likely here, with all the people,” she said. “Besides—”
The door opened—Lyse’s nurse returning with a stack of paperwork. “If I could talk you through these, ma’am?”
Siobhan joined her at the little counter, listening as the woman discussed aftercare and payments and signatures. Fionn wandered over to look down at Lyse. She seemed so young, her hair so thick it seemed too heavy for her head, for the delicate features of her face. In sleep she seemed a teenager.
He felt old in comparison. Jaded. And, when his fingers delved into her hair and eased it back from her face, confused. So confused.
Why did this woman, of all the women he knew, draw him so strongly? Why did looking at her, even when he was angry, make his heart thud and his cock ache? Unable to resist, he trailed his thumb down the smooth curve of her cheek. So soft, like a wee one. And yet the feelings she stirred in him were nothing like feelings for a child.
Her eyes flickered open. “Fionn?”
The drugged look remained. Snagging a nearby stool, he scooted it closer and sat, putting him on level with her. “Yeah.” When she frowned, he added, “You’re in the hospital. It’s all right. Everything’s all right.”
His thumb was still stroking her cheek, he realized. He started to pull away, but her brow wrinkled, her hand reaching out for his. She moved it back to her face, her own hand shaky. Although the bullet had grazed her side instead of punching through it, the wound was deep. He knew from experience how much it hurt for a man his size; for someone as small as Lyse…
His gut churned. Everything in him was wanting to deny it, wanting to say she deserved what she got, that he didn’t care if she was in pain. But the truth was, the sight of that shaking hand made him ill. His mind told him she was a traitor, that he had no business caring for her. His body didn’t care; it yearned toward her anytime they were in a room together. The two sides warred inside him, and damn it, he was gettin’ tired of the fight.
He leaned in, bringing his face close to hers. “Why, Lyse?” he asked, needing to know once and for all. “Why did you set that bomb? Why did you betray me?”
Hazel eyes latched on to his. “You know why, Fionn,” she said, his name slurring on her tongue. “I told you. Didn’t I tell you?” She blinked once, again, before her eyelids closed fully, locking her away from him. “I love you. Had to keep everyone safe…keep you…safe.”
She fell asleep on the last word. Fionn stared down at her. He’d denied repeatedly that she’d done it for him, ignored the fact that she’d cleared the area as much as she could—because her actions had shattered the image he’d always held of her, the hero worship in her eyes that he’d come to rely on. But even drugged and in pain, she held true to her story.
I love you.
What would he do to protect the people he cared about? What had he done for his mother, his team? Given up everything. Risked his life. Killed.
I love you.
So simple.
And destructive, because if he accepted it, he had to accept her. He just didn’t know if he was ready.
Chapter Thirteen
Lyse had slept most of the afternoon away. She remembered being carried into the house and desperately wishing she was awake enough to appreciate being in Fionn’s arms, but the next thing she knew, her eyes were opening to a dusky room and a stomach growling with hunger. Pushing the covers
