Page 48

I turn toward her.

The doctor looks amused. “Gentle mental activity is fine if she feels up to it, but she should stop if it makes her symptoms worse.”

Anya nods solemnly. “Okay.”

I look at Levin. “She is taking this more seriously than I am.”

“That may be for the best,” he says.

He finishes checking my pupils and asks me to stand with assistance. I manage a few careful steps beside the bed, which is a considerable improvement over yesterday, although my hip still protests every movement.

The nurse returns a few minutes after the doctor is done with his examination carrying a large shopping bag, which she places on the chair beside my bed. “These were delivered for you, Ms. Bennett,” she says. “Mr. Volkov’s staff asked us to make sure you had something comfortable to wear when you leave.”

I look inside. There are soft trousers, a cream blouse, underwear, socks, and a pair of flat shoes, all neatly folded with the tags still attached. A small toiletry bag sits underneath them.I lift the blouse.

It is my size.

“Does this man have a department dedicated to solving problems before people know they have them?” I ask.

The nurse smiles. “I wouldn’t know, but the clothes are yours to keep.”

I look at the shopping bag again, feeling that uncomfortable mixture of gratitude and suspicion that accompanies everything Nikolai Volkov does.

But at least now I won't have to leave the hospital wearing the delivery jacket I nearly died in.

When I sit down again, Anya immediately adjusts the blanket over my legs.

I look at her. “You know, you don't have to take care of me.”

She smooths the edge of the blanket. “I know.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

She shrugs. “Because I want to.”

I don't know what to say to that.

Fortunately, another knock saves me from having to produce an emotionally competent response.

The door opens, and a man steps inside.

He is tall, dark-haired, and wearing a navy suit with the jacket open over a white shirt. He looks younger than Nikolai by several years, with a similar strong jaw and gray eyes, although his expression is considerably less intimidating.

He smiles when he sees Anya. “There's my favorite niece.”

Anya makes a delighted noise. “Uncle Viktor!” She scrambles off the bed and runs toward him.

He catches her easily, lifting her into a hug before setting her back down. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” Viktor says. “I hear you've been spending all your time with a new friend.”

Anya grabs his hand. “This is Elle. She saved me.”

His smile changes when he looks at me. Some of his amusement fades as he turns to nod at me.

He approaches the bed. “Viktor Volkov,” he says, offering his hand. “Nikolai's younger brother.”

I shake it carefully. “Elara Bennett. Apparently, the family's newest traffic hazard.”

He laughs. “I've heard several versions of yesterday, but I think yours may be the most accurate.”