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Mine Forever (Book 3: The Billionaire’s Obsession Trilogy)

By:J.S. Scott

Mine Forever (Book 3: The Billionaire’s Obsession Trilogy)
J.S. Scott

       Chapter 1

Kara opened her eyes slowly, blinking several times to clear her blurred  vision, and feeling like her head was in a vise. Temporarily  disoriented, she lifted her hand to her head, poking at it  experimentally only to feel her forehead wrapped with gauze. What the  hell?

Her memory returned slowly, trickling back in bits and pieces. Sam and  his apology. The attack. Sam and two other unknown men saving her life.

She remembered waking briefly several times in the Emergency Room, Simon  right next to her holding her hand, murmuring encouraging words while  she...oh God...had she really thrown up all over him?

Right after the attack, everything had been so intense: the dizziness,  the nausea, the blurred vision, the desire to escape back into the  darkness and blissful relief of sleep.

Her surroundings were dim, the only light illuminating what appeared to  be a hospital room a small square and narrow overhead light near the  door.

Her eyes scanned the room. It was set up for double occupancy, but the bed beside her was empty and completely undisturbed.

Compared to the way she had felt in the Emergency Room, the headache she  was experiencing seemed like a major improvement. Her stomach was  slightly queasy and she had obviously suffered an open wound to her  forehead, but she was still alive. She sucked in a deep, tremulous  breath, releasing it slowly as a wave of adrenaline washed over her  body; clearly she was experiencing some delayed anxiety from the  experience that had happened...uh...when?

Crap...I really need to get my head together!

Squinting at the clock, she could see that it was four a.m. Nine hours  had passed since the terrifying experience that had left her alone in a  hospital room, thanking the Almighty that she was still among the  living.

She flinched as she moved her left arm, stretching the tubing of the  I.V. inserted in the back of her hand, causing stress at the insertion  site. Damn, that hurt. Replacing the limb to its former position, she  attempted to cautiously stretch her other arm, finding it trapped,  encapsulated inside of a large, strong, warm prison.

"Simon," she whispered softly, suddenly realizing that she wasn't alone,  her eyes landing on the place where their skin touched, finding his  fingers entwined with hers, his head resting next to their joined hands,  his eyes closed.

Her heart contracted as her gaze swept over him, taking in every feature  of his beloved, handsome face. She drank in the sight of him, feeling  as if it had been forever since she had seen that handsome face. Even in  sleep, he looked tense and fierce, the lock of wayward hair that  slithered over his forehead the only thing that softened his appearance  in slumber.

Slowly disentangling their entwined fingers, she stroked his hair back,  enjoying the texture of the thick, disheveled strands between her  fingers.

Had he been here all night? Had he ever left the hospital?

He was dressed in a pair of light blue hospital scrubs, a sure sign that  her memory of tossing her cookies down the front of what was probably a  very expensive sweater, was probably accurate.

I love you.

The recollection that she had spoken those words between retching  violently and feeling like she was about to die made her hand stop  pawing his hair and her body tense with trepidation.

Oh God, did I really say those words to him?

Yeah, she had said them - the memory flashed vividly in her mind.  Knowing that she had babbled that particular phrase to him, she pulled  her hand completely away, wondering how he had taken those words, or if  he had even really heard them. At the time, she had been desperate to  say them, to let him know how she felt in case she didn't make it  through the night. With no idea what her injuries actually were, she  hadn't hesitated to say them, didn't want something to happen without  him knowing how much she cared.

Now that she knew that she was obviously going to live, she wasn't so sure that she should have confessed, bared her soul.

"Kara!" Simon shot up into a sitting position, his hand reaching  reflexively for hers, twining their fingers back together. He was  instantly awake, his eyes jerking to her face, scanning it with obvious  unease. "You're awake."

Her throat was dry, her tongue felt like it was swollen enough to take  up the entire space of her oral cavity. She reached for a cup of water  from the bedside table. Simon sprang from his chair, reaching it first,  unwrapping a straw and placing it into the plastic cup, before directing  it to her mouth. She took slow sips, her hand covering his as she let  the moisture slide over her tongue. "Where am I?" she asked quietly,  licking the moisture from her lips.

He told her what hospital was she in and explained that her CT scan was  normal, but that they were keeping her overnight for observation. "You  have several stitches from a cut on your forehead. From what Sam told  me, you're damn lucky they didn't crack your skull." Simon's was voice  was rough and slightly irritated.                       


"I have a hard head." She answered lightly, remembering the force of the  blows, amazed that she had suffered nothing more than a few stitches  and a hammering headache.

He shot her an aggravated look. "Like I haven't noticed?" Setting the  glass down on the bedside table, his eyes locked with hers, staring  intently, his gaze like liquid fire. "You're never leaving me again.  Ever."

Her breath hitched as she looked at him, fascinated, unable to break the  compelling, silent communication. "Forever is long time." she answered,  unable to come up with a more intelligent response while his eyes were  shooting volatile sparks, a clear warning he was about to get stubborn.

"I don't give a fuck. You're going back home with me, and I'm not  leaving your safety in the hands of a few green security agents. If Sam  hadn't been there..."

"He saved my life, Simon. Your brother risked his life for me," she  murmured, silently Sam for being there, for getting to her before those  men had gotten her into the car.

I'd be dead if he hadn't.

Running a frustrated hand through his already-tortured hair, he growled,  "He damn well should have seen you home. And the security guys were  inexperienced. They should have been tailing you so close that they  could hear you breathe. Their reaction time was unacceptable."

"I left. I didn't give Sam a chance to offer to take me home. He was  asking questions about Maddie and I wanted to leave. And the agents got  there fast. These guys were quick. It all happened in seconds." Even  though it seemed like hours.

"Sam shouldn't have been there at all. You would have been home and safe," he rumbled, his chest vibrating with emotion.

She squeezed his hand. "You don't know that. They might have gotten to  me anyway. It would have been worse if Sam hadn't been there. Please  don't blame Sam or the agents. I'm grateful to all of them."

"Doesn't matter. You're coming home with me tomorrow. And you'll have  better security than the President Of The United States. Even Maddie  agrees that you're safer at the condo. Although I'm not sure she's  thrilled about you being in such close proximity to any Hudson." He sat  back down in the chair without releasing his powerful grip on her hand  or softening his intense, relentless stare.

"Maddie was here?" she asked curiously, wondering how her friend even knew that she had been injured.

"She just left an hour or two ago. I called her. She was here all evening. You don't remember?"

She shook her head. "Everything that happened after the actual attack is just snippets of memory. Did I really vomit on you?"

"You remember that?" He searched her face, looking for something, as  though he were trying to figure out what she did and didn't remember.  "Maddie found me a pair of scrubs and a shower after you got settled in a  room.

"Oh God. I'm sorry." Was there anything more mortifying than puking all over a man like Simon Hudson?

"Why? You didn't do it on purpose. And I was actually relieved that you were awake."

Kara found it pretty damn amazing that a man had actually stood beside  her, holding an emesis basin while she heaved, without being completely  grossed out. "Is Sam all right?"

"Fine." He barked a short, humorless laugh. "Except for the fact that he  had to be in the same room with Maddie Reynolds. Sam looked  uncomfortable as hell and Maddie looked like she wanted to kill him,  slowly and painfully."

"I wish I knew what happened between them," she breathed wistfully,  wincing as the squeezing sensation in her head increased in intensity,  beginning to feel as if she had a huge boa constrictor wrapped around  her head.

Simon frowned. "You want some pain medication? I can call the nurse." He reached for the call button.