Chapter 20
The world came back to me in slow, blurry fragments.
First, there was the smell. Cedar, rain, and clean soap. It wrapped around me like a heavy, comforting blanket.
Then came the heat. My entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out, yet my skin shivered violently against the cool silk sheets. My head pounded with a dull, rhythmic ache.
I slowly fluttered my eyes open.
The room was dim, illuminated only by a single bedside lamp. I wasn't in my designated guest suite. I wasn't in the study. I was lying directly in the center of Alexander's massive, king-sized bed in the master suite.
"Do not try to sit up."
The deep, gravelly voice came from my right.
I turned my heavy head. Alexander was sitting in a leather armchair pulled right up to the edge of the mattress.
He had shed his military jacket and tie.
His black button-down shirt was unfastened at the collar, the sleeves rolled up over his thick forearms.
He looked exhausted, but his sharp gray eyes were entirely focused on me.
"Alexander," I croaked. My throat felt like sandpaper.
He leaned forward, his large, calloused hand reaching out. He pressed the back of his hand flat against my forehead. His skin was so cool, so incredibly grounding against my burning flesh.
"You have a fever of 103 degrees," he stated bluntly, his jaw tight. "The estate physician was here three hours ago. You contracted a severe viral flu, likely from the pediatric ward at the hospital."
"The flu?" I whispered, confused. "But... I fainted because..."
My brain suddenly caught up.
*The gates. Daniel. Alexander's terrifying fury. The closet. The kiss.*
Oh God. The kiss.
My face flushed so hotly it felt like the fever had doubled. He had kissed me. He had devoured me, actually.
"You fainted," Alexander continued, his voice lowering into a calm, authoritative rumble, "because your immune system was already compromised by the virus, and the violent spike of adrenaline from the perimeter breach caused a total systemic crash."
He withdrew his hand from my forehead, picked up a glass of ice water from the nightstand, and slid his other arm behind my shoulders. With effortless strength, he lifted my upper body, bringing the rim of the glass to my dry lips.
"Drink," he ordered softly.
I drank greedily, the cold water soothing my throat. When I finished, he gently lowered me back onto the pillows.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, pulling the heavy duvet up to my chin, suddenly feeling incredibly shy. "I didn't mean to faint. And I'm sorry you had to deal with... everything."
Alexander's eyes turned dangerously dark.
He leaned over the bed, placing his hands flat on the mattress on either side of my shoulders. He was so close I could feel the heat radiating from his massive frame.
"Listen to me, Grace," he said, his words slow and deliberate. "The civilian threat has been permanently neutralized. You will never apologize for my actions in defending this perimeter. And you will certainly never apologize for my actions in this bedroom."
My breath hitched. He wasn't going to ignore the kiss. He was claiming it.
"Now," he stated, pulling back and reaching for a small white pill on the nightstand. "Open your mouth. You need your fever reducer."
I was too mesmerized to argue. I took the pill, swallowing it with another sip of water.
"You should go," I murmured sleepily, my eyelids already drooping from the medication. "You have the diplomatic dinner tonight right? And I'm contagious."
"The dinner is canceled," Alexander replied flatly.
He reached into a bowl of ice water on the nightstand, wrung out a white cloth, and gently laid it across my burning forehead. The terrifying, uncompromising General of the Armed Forces was sitting in the dim light, nursing me.
"Sleep, Grace. I am not leaving."
I closed my eyes, entirely safe, and let the darkness take me again.
When I woke up the next morning, the fever had broken, though my body still felt incredibly weak. Sunlight was streaming through the heavy curtains.
Alexander wasn't in the chair, but I could hear the faint sound of his deep voice in the adjoining study, likely taking a secure military call.
The heavy oak doors of the bedroom suddenly clicked open.
"Oh my God!"
Mia burst into the room like a hurricane, carrying a massive bouquet of yellow tulips. Ethan stood in the hallway behind her, looking mildly traumatized, before he quickly closed the door, leaving Mia inside.
"Mia?" I rasped, trying to sit up.
"Don't move, you fragile little bird!" Mia rushed over, dropping the flowers on the armchair and practically throwing herself onto the edge of the bed. "Ethan texted me this morning. He said you were on bed rest. Grace, what happened?!"
I pulled the covers up over my face, groaning. "I got the flu. And... Daniel showed up at the gates."
Mia gasped, her eyes going wide. "Are you serious? What did the General do?!"
"He almost destroyed him," I whispered from under the blanket. "I had to drop to my knees and beg Alexander to let him go."
"Holy-Grace! That is terrifying!" Mia gripped my leg through the duvet. "But wait... Ethan said you fainted in the master suite. If Daniel was at the gates... what happened in the bedroom?"
I slowly lowered the blanket, my face burning as red as a tomato.
"He kissed me," I whispered.
Mia froze. She stared at me for three full seconds.
Then, she let out a silent, full-body scream, shaking her hands in the air. "I KNEW IT! I TOLD YOU TO ESTABLISH DOMINANCE! You literally swooned! You Victorian-era swooned over a military General!"
"Shhh!" I panicked, frantically waving my hands. "He's in the study! He can hear you!"
Mia immediately lowered her voice to a chaotic whisper. "This is the greatest day of my life. How was it? Was it terrifying? Was it amazing?"
"It was both," I admitted, a shy smile touching my lips. "But Mia, we can't tell my dad. Any of it. Not Daniel showing up, not the fainting. The doctor said he needs zero stress for his heart to recover from the stent."
"My lips are sealed," Mia promised, crossing her heart. "Mr. Zane doesn't need to know his daughter is causing international security incidents by being too pretty."
Before I could scold her, the bedroom doors swung open again.
"Well, well, well!"
Grandmother Eleanor marched into the room, leaning on her elegant silver cane. Her eyes were sparkling with absolute, unrestrained mischief.
"Grandmother!" I gasped, trying to sit up properly.
"Lie back down, child," Eleanor ordered cheerfully, waving her hand as she walked toward the bed. "When Ethan informed me that the estate physician was called to the master suite in a panic yesterday, I nearly ordered a parade."
I frowned, completely confused. "A parade?"
Eleanor stopped at the foot of the bed, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Yes! I assumed my grandson had finally done his duty and I was getting a great-grandchild!"
My brain stopped working.
Mia slapped both her hands over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with violent, silent laughter.
"P-Pregnant?!" I squeaked, my face igniting with so much heat I thought I might spontaneously combust. "No! Grandmother, no, I just have the flu!"
"So the doctor informed me," Eleanor sighed dramatically. "A terrible disappointment, honestly. I was already picking out names for the General's heir."
"Grandmother."
The deep, commanding voice sliced through the room like a blade.
Alexander stepped out of the study. He was dressed in his black training gear, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. He looked entirely unfazed by the chaos in his bedroom, his face a mask of perfect, disciplined stoicism.
"My wife has influenza," Alexander stated bluntly, walking over to the bedside table to check the water pitcher. "She is not carrying a child."
"Not yet, anyway," Eleanor teased fearlessly, tapping her cane.
I completely melted into the mattress, pulling the duvet over my head, silently praying for the floor to open up and swallow me. Mia was currently dying of laughter on the edge of the bed.
Alexander leveled his grandmother with a flat, uncompromising stare.
"You are disrupting her rest," Alexander said.
"I am bringing her joy," Eleanor countered smoothly. "Something you military men know nothing about. Come along, Mia. Let us leave the General to aggressively stare at his sick wife."
Mia giggled, giving my blanket-covered leg one last squeeze. "Feel better, Mrs. Reeves!"
The door clicked shut behind them.
The room fell into a heavy, electric silence.
I slowly peeked out from under the duvet. Alexander was standing beside the bed, looking down at me. The faint, dark amusement in his gray eyes was entirely undeniable.
"They are gone," he stated simply.
"I have never been so embarrassed in my entire life," I whispered.
Alexander reached down and pulled the duvet away from my face. He didn't joke about his grandmother's comment.
His expression turned serious. The protective, dominant aura returned, filling the room.
"Sit up, Grace," he ordered softly.
I complied, wincing slightly as my sore muscles protested.
"Your fever is breaking," Alexander noted, his eyes locking onto mine. "But yesterday highlighted a severe vulnerability in our protocols."
"Vulnerability?" I asked, confused.
"You ran toward a hostile civilian at the perimeter gates. You were entirely unprotected, and you had no means of defending yourself." His jaw clenched. "If I had not been in that convoy, the guards would have handled him, but the risk to you was unacceptable."
"I was just trying to stop a fight," I argued weakly.
"You are my wife," Alexander stated bluntly, leaning closer. "You are a high-value target. And I will not have you defenseless when I am not here."
I blinked, a sense of foreboding washing over me. "W-What does that mean?"
Alexander straightened up, his tone leaving absolutely no room for debate.
"Tomorrow, when you are cleared by the physician," Alexander said, "we are going to the private military range. You are going to learn how to fire a weapon."
"A gun?!" I gasped, my eyes going wide. "Alexander, no! I am a nurse! I heal people, I don't shoot them!"
"You will learn," he commanded smoothly, turning toward the study. "0800 hours tomorrow, Grace. Do not be late."
He walked out, leaving me sitting in the middle of his massive bed, completely terrified, entirely flustered, and hopelessly in love.
?? "NOT YET, ANYWAY!" ?? Grandmother Eleanor is a MENACE and we love her for it! ??
Drop a ?? and vote if you are laughing at Grace's misery! The General is taking his shy, sweet nurse wife to a military gun range...
what could possibly go wrong?! Let me know your thoughts in the comments! Mwaah!