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about that now. Then her heart would start to pound, her limbs would tremble. And she would sweat. She was always a nervous sweater, and if that beautiful Latin cop was still with her, she didn’t want him to see her all sweaty. So, she’d just float here, wrapped in the warmth of her family’s presence and concern.
    And likely Vicodin.
    Hero pictured the gentle dimpled smile of her wrathful savior. Probably gentleness didn’t come easily to him. Or smiles.
    Speaking of… somewhere beyond her soft nebulous, the masculine voices started to churn with aggression. Hero decided to surface so she could mediate. She allowed herself a long-suffering inward sigh before opening her eyes. Good, they were functional, if somewhat blurry.
    Telling Conner to mind his manners worked, for once, she noted smugly. So, she’d found a silver lining to this whole business of being in a hospital bed. Of this, she would take great advantage.
    As soon as her vision cleared, Hero used the shocked silence to search the familiar faces for him. Ah, there he was, looming in the corner. The avenging angel with tempting mocha skin and glittering black eyes.
    God, she was going to sculpt him naked someday. And, if he didn’t let her see him naked? She’d just have to use her imagination, her very vivid imagination. She was probably going to try to get him naked, though.
    “Hi.” She attempted an engaging smile but her numb face refused to cooperate. What did they have her on, anyway? This was some good shit. Hero refrained from taking anything inorganic into her body, but this counted as a medical emergency. And, in truth, she was kind of enjoying herself. It didn’t matter, she’d do a juice cleanse upon her release from this fine establishment and get any harmful chemicals out of her system.
    Tall, dark, and dangerous was adorable when flustered. “Hi,” he responded in that silky baritone of his. He cast a sheepish glance at Rown and her father. A smile fought at the corners of his lush lips and showed off that one great dimple on the left cheek of his chiseled face.
    She wished he didn’t have his suit jacket on, then she’d be able to tell if all that width was pure shoulder and not padding.
    “Christ, she’s high as a kite.” Rown rolled his eyes.
    No she wasn’t.
    “No, I isn’t,” she insisted. Her nose itched like crazy, but her hands felt like they were weighed down with bricks. With all her attention focused on lifting one of them, she effectively ignored everyone. She smiled triumphantly—probably—as her right arm lifted and she directed it toward her nose. It frustrated her when she poked herself in the eye. You’d think finding your own nose on your face would be easy. “Well, maybe a little,” she admitted. If not being able to feel your extremities meant you were high. Holy balls! Those bandages were huge! Only the very tips of her fingers were visible and the bandages were tight enough that she couldn’t wiggle any of them.
    But her nose didn’t itch anymore, so she shrugged. Mission accomplished.
    “That might not be a bad thing right now, Berowne,” her mother said softly and petted her hair.
    Hero loved her mama and told her so.
    “I love you too, my darling.” Her mom kissed her hair. Hero also loved that whenever her mother said “darling” it still sounded like “ dar link .” She wished her mother didn’t look so sad, though. That everyone didn’t. She was fine. She was safe now, and would just focus on recovery. No need to dwell on anything unpleasant. They should be celebrating. She survived, beat the odds. That was kind of a big deal.
    “Ms. Connor, are you in any pain?” Dr. Karakis squeezed his way past Rown and Andra to the left side of her bed. Seeing as how everyone else was on her right, he’d taken the path of least resistance. Smart guy, her doctor. Handsome too, kinda.
    “On a scale of one to ten, rate the pain you’re in,” he ordered gently, while checking her monitors and