Page 37 of Mountain Target

“Hey.”

“I have Ren’s X-ray here. Her ankle’s not broken, just sprained. I wanted … I wanted to come tell you.”

His expression lit up. “Good. I’m glad.”

“They want to keep her in observation, then they’ll wrap it and let her go.”

His nod dislodged the gauze he was pressing against his head.

“Your head’s still bleeding.” She took a step forward and picked up a bottle of disinfectant. “I can take care of that for you.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Marie said she’d come over in a little while.”

She sniffed loudly. “You don’t trust me, or something? You don’t get a medical degree without learning how to stitch wounds, you know?”

Finally, he sighed, letting his hand drop and turning his head to the right.

“Okay, Valentina. Go for it.”

“I’ll need to numb the area first. Scalp wounds sting like—“

He shook his head. “No. Just stitch it. I need to go meet my team, and don’t want anything that makes me groggy.”

She was about to argue, but changed her mind. He wasn’t a child. He could decide whether he wanted painkillers.

“Is everybody okay? Were you able to speak to everyone in your team?”

“Everybody’s fine. Looks like I was wrong about the earthquake—it wasn’t half as bad as I feared when we were up there. They’re estimating 6.2 on the Richter scale.”

She stood between his legs, trying not to think of the way those strong thighs could wrap around a woman’s body.

Why does he have to be so attractive?

“It’s lucky the epicenter was up in the mountains and nowhere close to town,” she said to distract herself, spraying some disinfectant on Beau’s scalp.

Beau hissed, but stayed very still as the needle went in.

“Relax. I’ll make sure they’re neat.”

“Don’t worry. Scars don’t bother me, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said. His large hands clenched against the edge of the bed were the only sign that he was in pain.

She pulled the first stitch through before speaking again. “How’s the knee? Should I get a trauma doctor in here to see it?” She forced his head steady. “Don’t move your head!”

“Sorry. No need. One of the nurses gave me some ice. It’s better now.”

She decided not to press and kept going, finished another stitch.

“I didn’t get the chance to say thank you. I don’t know … I don’t know how I would have gotten Ren down safely without you.”

“Somehow, I think you would have managed,” he said softly. “But I’m glad I could help.”

She wasn’t as sure. She’d been about to lose her shit up there. She still could, when she thought of how close she’d come to losing Ren.

How she still could.

Her most important job, and she could botch it.

How will you ever live up to Camille’s standard?