Irene's POV
My head was pounding like someone had decided to use it as a drum and my leg felt like it was on fire.
I groaned and tried to move, immediately regretting it when pain shot through my entire body. Valda. That absolute bitch had shoved me to the ground when she was supposed to be helping me to the bathroom. I knew it was on purpose, saw the flash of satisfaction in her eyes right before I hit the floor.
"Don't move a muscle," I was startled when i heard his voice come from the dark but he was nowhere to be seen.
Footsteps crossed the floor and then he was there, sitting on the edge of the bed. The lamplight caught his features as he leaned over my leg, his hands moving with careful precision as he examined the injury.
The care in his touch was absurd. This was the same man who'd barely looked at me for weeks after our arrangement started, and now he was handling me like I was made of glass.
