Free MasterofSilk by Gia Dawn Page B

passed out, the crowd
gasping as she caught him, lowering him slowly enough he would not smash his
head on the hard wood. “Call an ambulance!” she yelled as Zayne started to have
a seizure, his jaw snapping shut hard. Frantically she searched in his pockets
for the glucagon injection he should have on hand for such emergencies and said
a quick prayer of gratitude when her fingers closed around the syringe.
    “I hope this hurts,” she whispered as she plunged the needle
into his thigh, fighting down a wave of panic. “Then maybe next time you’ll
know enough to eat.” She closed her fingers around his wrist to check the
strength of his pulse. Although it had started to steady he was still drenched
in sweat so she took off his tie and undid the buttons of his shirt, snatching
her veil off in frustration when it slid over her eyes. She didn’t give a damn
who saw her now. Her only thought was to get Zayne stabilized and rushed to the
hospital.
    She stayed with him in the ambulance—everyone knew who she
was as soon as they saw her face—and held his hand as they wheeled him into the
emergency room, reassured when he opened his eyes and squeezed her hand in
return.
    “You bottomed out.” She held the oxygen in place beneath his
nose when he shook his head and tried to take it off. “And if you don’t quit
fighting me and do exactly as I say I swear I will kill you myself to keep from
trying to save your idiotic ass another time. Got that? What the hell were you
thinking?” Worry made her curt.
    He had the decency to look chagrined. “I was thinking I was
happy with my life for the first time in since Laylia died and that she would
have been proud of the Saladar Center.” The familiar jealousy shot Isabella
through the heart as he spoke. “Then I was thinking how beautiful you looked
onstage and how much I had grown to enjoy your company—both in and out of my
bed.” Now the jealousy was replaced with affection for the man who rattled her
control as he reached out to touch her cheek.
    “You look good enough to eat, my lovely Isabella.” He winked.
    “If you’d eaten we wouldn’t be in this mess,” she retorted, fighting
the urge to stretch out on the bed beside him.
    “That is not what I meant.” He ran his thumb among the
inside of her arm. “But I will allow you to defy me just this once.”
    “Really? How generous.”
    “That is twice.” His voice had regained a measure of its
strength and the threat curled along her spine, bringing with it a welcome and
familiar need.
    Along with the knowledge he had seen through her ruse. “How
long have you known?”
    “Since that first day in your office. I had watched you
dance so many times before, I knew the exact color of your eyes and line of
your body—even beneath the baggy clothes you wear to work. Which you will
continue to do.”
    “And why is that?” She could not help but bait him after all
the worry he’d put her through.
    “Because I refuse to have my woman leered at by every man in
this entire city.”
    “Your woman?” She couldn’t resist running her hand down his
chest. “I thought you’d grown tired of me.”
    He turned his head to run his teeth across her palm, his
eyes smoldering with a fire she had grown to crave. “Never. I knew you needed
time to realize how much you cared for me and I am a generous man.” His
mouth twisted into an arrogant smile.
    “Yes, you are,” she admitted, her heart filled with pride.
He gave tirelessly of his time and money and she admired his kindness of
spirit. “Now shut up and sleep.”
    After all, he had to learn he was not the master in every
situation.
    He nodded and tried to smile, but closed his eyes again as
Isabella barked orders to the resident on call. Only then did she realize she
still wore her costume and had given her entire charade away to everyone in
town.
    By 3:00 a.m. Zayne was sleeping soundly so Isabella decided
to sneak out and change, finding a pair of scrubs that would