When He Was Bad Page 43

“Irene!”

Irene opened her eyes. “What?”

“Don’t pass out on me, baby. I need you to stay awake.”

Irene didn’t know what he meant until she looked around and realized they were almost back to the house.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just keep those pretty blue eyes open.”

She chuckled. “You are the only person I’ve ever met who likes my eyes.”

“I think they’re gorgeous. And what I say is all that matters. Haven’t you learned that yet?”

“Yes, I have. I’ve also caught you chasing your own tail, so excuse me if I’m not ready to sign you up for a think tank just yet.”

He growled when a few of the wolves looked back at them and started laughing. “Is nothing sacred between us?” he demanded. Then he added against her ear, “Besides, it was harassing me again.”

She laughed and felt his smile against her cheek. Yeah, that was definitely one of the things she loved about Holtz . . . that, in his own way, he was as weird as she was.

Of course, that also meant their children would be absolute freaks.

Van paced the hospital hallway while the doctors worked on her. Since the hospital had a Van Holtz pediatric wing, he had no doubt they’d give Irene only the best care. Still, he wouldn’t feel settled until he saw her. Until he knew she was okay.

“You’re making me nauseous.”

Van ignored his sister and walked back toward the double doors leading to the emergency room.

“Niles Van Holtz, don’t you dare.”

Swinging around, Van stalked back over to his sister.

Irene had passed out on the ride over. Nothing he did could wake her, which really worried him. He knew he couldn’t lose her now. She meant everything to him. Absolutely everything.

Which was why he’d never wanted to fall in love in the first place! And, to be quite honest, he blamed her for his current bout of unhappiness. How dare she make him fall in love with her! How dare she be so damn cute and adorable and absolutely clueless about anything remotely normal and human so that he had no option but to fall in love with her.

“Stop panting or I’m getting you a dog bowl,” his sister snarled.

The doctors walked out into the hallway and if his sister hadn’t gotten to the men first, he would have tackled the first one he could get his hands on.

“How is she, Dr. Bennet?” she asked while holding Van off.

“She’s actually doing quite well. She informed us of the proper way to put on a cast and we had a nice long debate about whether medication of any kind was necessary for her particular problem.”

At that point, Van stopped fighting his sister and stared at the doctor. “She didn’t.”

“Oh, but she did.”

“So I can assume she’ll be just fine?”

“Oh, that you can. We’ve checked her from top to bottom and performed an MRI.”

“An MRI? Why?”

“Because she had concerns about blood clots.”

“Does she have a blood clot?”

“No.”

“Then why—”

The doctor held his hand up while his colleagues kept their heads down and their laughter in. “Please, Mr. Van Holtz. I believe I’ve had all the questions and unasked-for information that any man can tolerate. We’re going to keep her overnight for observation. Strictly a precaution. Tomorrow . . . preferably in the morning . . . you can take her home. Or simply far, far away.”

There were more snorts from aborted laughter as the other doctors began to move away and Van nodded his head. “I understand.”

“Good. Now give them a few minutes to get her into a room and then you can see her. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go far, far away.”

The doctor walked off and Van looked down at his sister. She gave him what he now knew to be the Van Holtz smirk. “And you were worried.”

Irene stared down at her cast. Thankfully a clean break—the doctor only had to set her arm and put a cast on. No surgery necessary. Although she did debate with the man whether that was the correct way to go. Her past research had shown . . . ahhhh, morphine. What a lovely drug.

Smiling for absolutely no reason, Irene let her eyelids droop down. She was tired and she wanted to go home.

Home. Her home. With Van.

But the doctors were making her stay the night. With her insurance, they usually kicked her out within hours but apparently she was a Van Holtz now. And that meant a single room and the utmost care. Oh, yes, she could easily get used to this kind of treatment.

The hospital room door opened and Irene didn’t bother opening her eyes. Another nurse or doctor to hover. They all hovered, it seemed.

“How are you feeling, Professor?”

Irene frowned. She knew that voice. Opening her eyes, she looked up into the face of her teaching assistant.

“Mark? What are you doing here?” She looked him over. He wore hospital scrubs. Why?

“I wanted to check up on you. You need to know I tried my best to protect you from her, Professor Conridge. I really did.”

Irene didn’t wait for him to say anything else; she simply swung her broken arm at his face, hoping the cast would smash his nose. At the same time, she tried screaming but Mark’s hand slapped over her mouth and the needle he shoved into her arm turned everything black.

Half-dozen roses in hand, Van pushed open the hospital door. He frowned when he saw the room empty.

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