Ruthless King

That’s why this is a mistake.

Taking care of her . . . even for this short time made him see what he could have.

And he fucking wanted it.

Even if she was being a bit of a brat at the moment and fighting his care. He understood it. He’d disappeared on her and now he was back, insisting on taking care of her.

He shouldn’t be here.

But there was no way he could walk away. Not while she was ill.

Turning off the bath, he tested the temperature.

Hmm. It seemed right to him.

Moving into the bedroom, he found her sitting on the side of the bed, taking out her braids.

The hair she’d freed was a frizzy mess. She tugged at one, making herself wince.

“Careful,” he barked.

She jumped. Shit. He hadn’t meant to speak so harshly.

“I need to take them out. Have to wash my hair. Itchy.”

Her voice sounded really raspy. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to lose her voice.

“Why did you put it up like that?” he asked.

She tensed for a moment. “Because I wanted to.”

Why did he get the feeling that she wasn’t telling him the whole truth?

He didn’t like that. She shouldn’t keep things from him. Not when he was in charge of her.

No matter her opinion on that.

She pulled the last of her hair free.

“I don’t think you should wash your hair. You might get tired.”

With a sigh, she stared up at him.

God, she looked defeated. Ill. Worn down.

Walking over, he crouched in front of her, placing his hands on her thighs.

“Baby, you know you can tell me anything. If there’s something going on . . . if something is wrong or you’re in trouble, I am here to help you.”

All she did was shake her head.

“Jilly,” he said firmly. “I need you to tell me if you’re in trouble.”

“Why would I be in trouble?” she asked. “I don’t have a life. I work in a library. Nothing interesting ever happens to me.”

Right.

Except . . . he still didn’t believe her.