Page 114 of Poison and Wine
As I rolled my eyes, Dare dialed on his phone. “Speaking of dying, I’m going to go make that call to Rafe.”
“Thanks,” Callum nodded.
With a wink, Quinn said, “I’ll leave the two of you.”
As Callum’s brothers exited the room, Dr. Feany entered it. “I see he’s back to his old self and barking orders,” he mused.
“If he was a normal person and in a hospital, how long would he stay?” I asked.
“Two to three days.”
“Does he need to stay down here?”
Dr. Feany nodded. “I wouldn’t advise jostling him up the stairs today. We don’t want to risk popping open any incisions.”
“Then I’ll have a rollaway bed delivered, so I can stay with him.”
“Are you going to be my nurse, Kitten?” Callum asked.
“I want you to have the same level of care you would have in a hospital,” I replied. With a smile, I added, “It’ll be good practice for me.”
“Will you wear one of those sexy nurse’s costumes?”
I rolled my eyes. “Dr. Feany, can you please put him back under for a while to see if he’ll wake up less horny this time?”
Dr. Feany’s lips actually turned into a small smile. “I could arrange for some laughing gas to knock him out from time to time.”
While I laughed, Callum scowled. “I had no idea healing was going to be the 7th ring of hell.”
“Good patients get rewarded, so I hope you’re going to be a good boy.”
Cocking his head at me, Callum asked, “What kind of rewards are we talking about?”
I grinned at him. “The kind I can’t discuss in front of Dr. Feany.”
Biting down on his lip, Callum replied, “Oh Kitten, I plan on being a very, very good boy.”
Chapter Thirty-Two: Callum
From my seat in the deck chair, I watched the waves crashing against the shore. As I listened to the pounding of the surf, I was reminded of Ireland. Growing up, Mam had taken us out of the city to spend the majority of our summers at our house at Portstewart. The sand and the sea were as much a part of me as the bustling streets of Belfast.
Tearing my gaze from the water, I studied my wife. In the chair next to me, Caterina balanced her computer on her lap and worked on her university studies. Although she’d been past the admissions deadline and start of the semester, I’d called in a few favors, and she’d been allowed to start. She’d been working overtime to catch herself up.
Today marked one week since I’d been shot. After spending two days down in the medical room with Caterina hovering over me, my brothers had busted me out. But instead of taking me to our bedroom to continue my recuperation, they loaded me up into one of our bulletproof SUVs. Then Owen, along with Shane and Oran, helped Caterina with our luggage. My little nursemaid had gotten Seamus to give her the keys to his beach house. Since then, my recovery had come with a beautiful ocean view.
I wish I could say I’d finally gotten Caterina to the beach for a honeymoon, but instead, I was there to save face. I couldn’t allow my men to see me recovering. In the mafia, you could never appear weak. It wasn’t just about the Kavanaugh men seeing me. We didn’t want anyone outside of Caterina’s brothers to know I’d been shot.
To say my wife was a devoted nurse would be an understatement. With my left arm bandaged and in a sling, she did everything from help me to the bathroom, which I teased her by playing helpless and asking her to take out my cock from my briefs, to changing my IV bags. Her medical experience while in the order came in handy. She’d even arranged for a physical therapist to come to us, so I wouldn’t run the risk of being seen. She was a true angel of mercy, and I was loving every minute of it.
Well, except the part where my wife thought I was a fucking invalid and wouldn’t let me touch her. Although she’d led me on with promises of sexual rewards, she jerked the rug out from me when she said that I had to have my stitches out before we could do anything. She wouldn’t budge even when I argued that I was already exerting myself in physical therapy, so what would it hurt to finger her perfect pussy?
After closing her laptop, she glanced over at me. “How are you feeling?”
“The same as fifteen minutes ago when you asked me,” I teasingly replied.
She frowned. “I can’t help worrying about you.”
I reached over to take her hand in mine. “I know, Kitten. I seriously don’t deserve you.”