The Jarrods: Inheritance: Taming Her Billionaire Boss. Emilie RoseЧитать онлайн книгу.
up and her body going down, her back hitting the grass, then her head on something harder. She literally saw stars ….
The next thing she knew Blake was dropping to his knees beside her. “Thank God!” he muttered, when he saw her eyes were open.
“What happened?” she managed to say.
He glanced back to where she’d been walking. “You must have slipped on that ice back there.”
She started to lift her head, then winced at the pain.
“Take it slowly.” He put his hand under her shoulders to help her up. “Is your back sore or anything? Are you hurting anywhere?”
“No.”
Then he swore. “You’re bleeding.”
“I am?”
His hand came away with some blood on it. “You’ve cut your head.” He helped her to sit up, then he checked the back of her head. “It’s only small but it’s bleeding like the devil and might need a stitch. There’s a lump starting where you hit it, too.” Snatching up her woolen hat that must have come off during the fall, he placed it against the cut. “Hold that on it. It’ll help stem the flow of blood. We need to get you to a doctor.”
“Joel?” she said, without thinking, not meaning anything by it.
His mouth tightened. “Yes.” He waited. “Do you think you can stand up? Are you dizzy or anything?”
“A little, but I’ll be fine.”
He helped her stand, then walked her the few feet to the car. Soon they were heading back to Jarrod Ridge.
“How do you feel now?” he said a few minutes later.
“Okay.”
They drove a little farther. “Talk to me, Samantha.”
“I don’t really feel like talking,” she said, calling herself an idiot for slipping. If only she’d looked where she was going, then—
“I want you to stay awake. You may have a slight concussion.”
“Oh.” She realized this was the correct procedure.
“Come on, you can do better than that,” he said, a serious look in his eyes.
“Okay.” She tried to think. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. Anything. What’s your favorite color?”
She didn’t need to think about that. “Yellow.”
His brow rose in surprise. “Yellow? Any particular reason?”
She winced a little as she adjusted the woolen hat against the injury. “Because it’s bright and happy.”
He glanced at her again, noting her wince, his mouth turning grim. “Okay, so what’s your favorite flower?”
“Tulips.”
Another look of surprise from him. “Why?”
“They’re so beautiful.”
There was a tiny pause. “Like you,” he murmured, and her breath caught, then she moved her head and winced again. “Not long now,” he assured her.
After that Blake drove straight up to the clinic at the spa lodge. The middle-aged nurse immediately took control, putting Samantha in an exam room. She checked her over, mentioning it wasn’t too bad but that she’d need to call the doctor anyway.
“No need to get Joel if he’s busy,” Samantha said, feeling bad for interrupting his Sunday morning.
Blake nodded at the nurse. “Get him.”
The nurse nodded in agreement then looked at her. “The doctor really should see you,” she said, then went and picked up the wall telephone as Samantha glanced at Blake.
He gave a short shake of his head. “He’s paid to do his job, Samantha. Let him.”
Before too long, Joel strode into the exam room, nodding at Blake and giving her a chiding frown. “What have you done to yourself, Sam?”
Samantha didn’t look at Blake, but she sensed he’d noted the shortening of her name. Joel was professional in his examination. She didn’t need stitches but he tidied up the cut and it finally stopped bleeding. Thankfully he hadn’t needed to cut any of her hair in the process.
“I don’t think the lump on your head is anything to be concerned about,” he assured her, “but we still need to keep an eye on it for any signs of concussion.” He considered her. “If you like, I can come to Pine Lodge and check on you a couple of times throughout the day.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Blake said firmly. “I know what signs to look for.”
Joel glanced at Blake, held his gaze a moment, then nodded. “Fine. But I’ll drop by the lodge and check on her this evening. Call me sooner if you have any doubts.”
“I will.”
Samantha looked from one to the other. “Do either of you mind if I have a say in this?”
Blake shot her an impatient look, but it was Joel who spoke. “Sam, this has to be taken very seriously. Your brain’s had a knock, and sometimes things can develop later on. You need to rest up and you need to have someone keep a close eye on you for at least twenty-four hours.”
She swallowed, not sure she liked hearing that, but before she could say anything the clinic door opened and someone called out for help, saying something about a twisted ankle. The nurse and Joel excused themselves to go check.
Blake came to stand in front of her. “I intend to look after you whether you like it or not.”
“But—”
“It’s my fault you were out there today,” he cut across her, his eyes holding firm regret. “No arguments, Samantha. I owe you this.”
She melted faster than snow under a heat lamp. “All right.”
There was nothing in his eyes that said he remembered their kiss, and right now she was grateful for that. She would have plenty of time to go over it once she was alone.
He picked up her jacket. “Come on, then,” he said gruffly. “Let’s get this on you and get you back home.”
Home?
Why did that sound so good to her?
By the time Blake brought her back to Pine Lodge it was almost noon. Not that Samantha was hungry. She wasn’t. She was glad now that he’d decided to stay close today. She wasn’t feeling ill, but she was still a little shaky, so she was appreciative of him cupping her elbow as they walked.
That shakiness increased as they went up the staircase and he told her that tonight she was to sleep in the spare bedroom in his suite—a spare bedroom separated from his bedroom by only a connecting bathroom.
Her stomach dipped as they reached the top stair. “I’m only across the landing there, Blake. It seems silly not to stay in my own room.”
“No. I want you near in case you need me.”
She did need him, but not in the way he meant. He was being nothing more than caring right now, while she was still stunned by the impact of their kiss back on the mountain.
“Fine,” she murmured, not up to arguing anyway. She was a bit of a mess. Her jacket had mud on it, her slacks were still slightly damp in places where she’d fallen on the wet grass, and parts of her brown hair felt like it was matted with blood. Yuk! She must look a wonderful sight.
“I