Elena’s POV.
His thumb brushed the quick pulse in my wrist, the heat of his skin making my skin prickle. Every instinct I had to run, to protect myself, to stay behind my professional guard died right there in the quiet.
Raymond could have died.
He… I stopped fighting.
I lifted the edge of the thick duvet and slipped under the covers beside him. Every movement was careful, to avoid shifting the mattress too much or jostling his stitches.
The moment my hip touched the spot beside him, Raymond shifted.
Before I could pull back, his right arm swung across, wrapping around my waist. With smooth, surprising force despite his state, he drew me flush against his uninjured side, locking me to his chest.
“Raymond, careful, you will—”
His hand squeezed the side of my waist. “Elena, stop.”
