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Muscle for Hire(48)

By:Lexxie Couper


A soft snort sounded in the back of Rowan’s throat. “Told you you were bossy.”

Aslin shrugged. “I didn’t argue with you.”

The nurse clicked her tongue. “No, but you did argue with everyone who came in here. Including Ms. Hemsworth’s brother.” She smiled at Rowan, checking something above Rowan’s left eyebrow. “That’s looking very good. I doubt it’ll leave a scar.”

“A scar?”

The nurse smiled again. “You’re very lucky. No stitches required, but you do have a deep cut above your eye and your right eardrum is damaged, I’m afraid. Nothing permanent, but you will be feeling a little groggy for a few days. The doctor will be here in a moment, but until then…” She shot Aslin a look over her shoulder. “I need to check Ms. Hemsworth’s other injuries now. Can you please step out?”

Aslin shook his head. “I’ve seen every inch of Rowan’s body, love. I’m not leaving her now.”

“Jesus, Rhodes.” Rowan’s cheeks grew warm, the pit of her belly fluttering at the memory of how he’d seen every inch of her body. “Way to behave like a Neanderthal.”

In response, Aslin settled his shoulders more firmly against the wall, changed the way his ankles were crossed and gave her a grin.

The nurse tsked. “Would you like me to call security, Ms. Hemsworth?”

Rowan chuckled. “No. It’s fine.”

Casting Aslin a displeased glare, the nurse smoothed a hand behind Rowan’s shoulders. “Okay then, I need you to sit up, please?”

Rowan did as the nurse asked, shutting out the shards and slithers of pain stabbing at her body. She ground her teeth, fixing her stare on her knees as the nurse gently lifted the hospital gown from her torso.

A low growl from the other side of the room told Rowan Aslin could see what the woman had revealed. She twisted to the right a little, ignoring the way her body protested at the awkward move, and looked at her side. A deep purple bruise spread over her ribs, an angry red mottled with darker maroon. “Ouch,” she murmured.

“You’re very lucky, Ms. Hemsworth,” the nurse stated, her voice soft and almost disconnected. “Only two broken ribs and no pierced lung. If you weren’t in such good physical shape you may be in a whole lot more pain now.”

“Which is what I told Chris.” Aslin’s deep rumble lifted her gaze from her injury.

“Is he here?”

“Outside. With Nigel and Tilly and Warren.”

“And two police officers,” the nurse finished.

The hair on the back of Rowan’s neck prickled. “Why are the cops here?”

The nurse straightened, lowered Rowan’s gown and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be back later. Try to stay quiet and still, Ms. Hemsworth. If the pain gets too severe, press this button. It’ll inject a small dose of morphine.”

Rowan frowned as the woman hurried from the room, stopping only to whisper something low to Aslin. He nodded once, waited until she slipped through the door and then crossed to where Rowan lay.

“Why are the cops here?”

He folded his arms over his chest, his legs braced, his thigh muscles hard under the denim of his jeans. “Because there is a distinct possibility someone is trying to hurt you.”

A sharp breath burst from Rowan. She pulled a face, the ringing in her ears growing louder. “Not this again.”

“Yes, this again. If it had been Chris’s trailer that exploded, I’d be inclined to agree with you that your brother is the target, but it was my trailer, wasn’t it?”

A heavy pressure wrapped around Rowan’s chest. “And this is what the police think as well? Someone is trying to kill me?” She stared up at Aslin, wishing to hell she could stand on her feet. She hated being vulnerable like this. Hated it.

Aslin’s nostrils flared. “They are investigating the situation.”

“Ah, so this is still only your theory?”

“It is. Rowan, listen to me. It’s not a secret on set you and I are spending…time together. Anyone watching you, studying you, would play the odds my trailer would be your on-set base, given our relationship.”

“And you don’t think they—whoever they are—are trying to hurt you? The woman, the red-headed fan? She hates you. What if she was trying to get at you? Or that paparazzo? It’s obvious you two have history. Why don’t you think—”

“Holston is a marked man.” Aslin’s gaze didn’t move from her face. “He can’t come within fifty kilometres of the set without me being notified, and he knows it. And I’m well versed with fans like the redhead. She’s fixated, but I’m not her target.”