Ruthless King (New Orleans Malones #4)

Chapter 22

22

D amn it.

She was good.

Regent tried to remain stern. “Don’t do that.”

With a sniffle, she stared up at him with wide eyes. “Do what?”

“Do not cry. It doesn’t work with me.”

“I don’t know what you mean. I just don’t feel well and you’re not being very nice.”

He scrubbed his face. All right, he could accept that she wasn’t exactly thinking straight, so he shouldn’t expect her to act rationally.

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“What?” She gaped up at him.

“I’m sorry for being . . . mean.”

“A meanie-bo-beanie.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“And as an apology, you’ll get me ice cream.”

“Have you got ice cream?” he asked.

“No. You’d have to go get some.”

“If the doctor says it’s all right, you can have some.”

“What does the doctor know?” she grumbled.

“I assume plenty since he went to school for a long time and then he’s been practicing on actual, live patients,” he said dryly.

“Doesn’t make him an expert on ice cream.”

“That is true. Now, please open your mouth so I can check your temperature.”

“You’re acting weird, Regent-Skigent.”

“So now you’re just going to make up words now to rhyme with my name?”

“Nothing good rhymes with Regent,” she grumbled.

“Hmm, how about obedient?”

“Yes, but you’re not very obedient, are you?”

Such a brat.

“How am I acting weird?” Regent sat even closer to her. He needed to wash her face. She’d get a rash sleeping with all that gunk on her skin.

And he admitted to himself that he didn’t like seeing it covering her face.

“Apologies and pleases.”

“I think it was just one please.”

“Still. Weird.” But she opened her mouth and let him put the thermometer in.

When it beeped, he took it out. “104. I don’t think that’s good.” Regent drew out his phone and searched for what was considered a high temperature. “No wonder you feel so hot.”

“Regent, I don’t feel so good.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry you don’t feel well.”

“And now you said ‘sorry’! I don’t like it when you act weird.”

“I’ll try not to act weird. You just rest. The doctor will be here soon.”

“Doctors don’t make house visits,” she grumbled.

“This one does.” He got paid enough to.

Getting up, Regent moved into the bathroom to wet a cloth. Returning, he grasped her chin and started washing her face.

“Whatcha doin’?” she asked without opening her eyes.

“Washing all this gunk off. Then I need to free your hair. It looks like it would be painful.”

“It is. Hate wearing my hair like this. And the makeup. It itches.”

“Then why do it?”

“Got to disguise myself.”

He paused. What could that mean? “What were you doing tonight, baby?”

Regent knew this was a morally gray area. Asking her questions while she was ill and didn’t know what she was saying.

But morally gray was his color.

“At the club.”

“Doing what?” he asked.

“Dancing. What else am I gonna do there?”

“No drinking?”

“Nope. I never drink and dance.”

“Do you go out to nightclubs to dance often?” he asked.

“Every weekend. My head hurts. Can you make it stop?” she begged.

“I will soon.” Fuck. He didn’t like this. What if she was really ill? What if she needed to go to the hospital?

Where the hell was Doctor Stanley?

He got up and stormed toward the door just as someone knocked on the other side. Opening it, he saw the older man standing there. His hair was white, which stood up on end and he wore small round glasses.

“It’s about time.”

“I got here as fast as I could,” the doctor grumbled. “Where is the patient?”

“She’s in here. You need to watch your bedside manner. Jilly’s not one of the guys. She’s . . . sensitive.”

Doctor Stanley snorted. “As if I don’t know how to look after a patient. You stick to what you do. Let me do the doctoring.”

He had known the doctor for over twenty-five years. But he would rip his tongue from his mouth if he made Jilly cry or upset her in any way.

But as soon as the old bastard walked into the room, he changed. Softening.

If Regent had been thinking properly, he would have realized that this was how the doctor had always acted with Lottie too.

However, it seemed as though all rational thinking had fled in the face of Jilly being ill.

What was happening to him?

“Are you the doctor?” Jilly asked tiredly.

“I certainly am. I heard you’re not feeling that well, young lady.”

Jilly smiled up at him. How come she smiled at that crotchety old bastard and not him?

“I’m okay.” She coughed, making Regent frown.

“Do you think she has a chest infection? That sounded chesty,” he said, stepping forward.

Doctor Stanley turned to glare at him. “Will you let me do the doctoring, please? I am the one with the degree and the equipment.”

Regent scowled. But the old bastard wasn’t intimidated by him. They used to have another doctor on retainer, but Maxim fired Doctor Edwards after he’d snapped at Aston.

Good riddance.

However they really needed to get another doctor on the payroll, Doctor Stanley wasn’t getting any younger.

“Fine. Just get on with it.”

“You’ll have to forgive him, doctor,” Jilly said quietly. She swallowed, wincing. “He seems to have lost his manners.”

Doctor Stanley grunted. “So it appears. You can call me Doc if you’d like. Now, I’m just going to check you over, all right?”

She sniffled. “All right. I might have been wrong before when I said I was fine. I don’t really feel all that good.”

“Poor girl. I’m going to get you fixed right up.”

Regent stood at the end of the bed, uncertain what to do. But as soon as she glanced up at him with those watery eyes and pouting lips, he moved to the other side of the bed. Sitting, he placed his hand over hers.

God. She was so hot.

“Squeeze my hand if you need to,” he told her.

She held on tight as Doctor Stanley took her vitals, peering into her throat and feeling her glands.

When she sat forward so he could listen to her lungs, Regent positioned himself so she could lean against him.

Her hair was still caught up in a tight braid pinned to her head. He didn’t understand why she’d do that. And it was scratchy with too much hairspray.

A cough rattled through her chest as he helped her lie back.

“Well? What is wrong with her, Doc?” he asked impatiently.

“Jilly can call me Doc. You call me Doctor Stanley.”

He nearly snapped back at the older man until he saw Jilly smile.

Fine, the doctor could breathe another day.

“She’s got a high temperature. I’m going to give her some medicine to help get it down. I can’t hear anything sitting in her lungs, which is good. Her pulse is slightly fast, but that’s to be expected. Her blood pressure is good but her throat is very red. Is it sore when you swallow? Talk?”

Jilly nodded.

“All right. Then rest your throat as much as you can, okay? Don’t talk too much.”

“Does she need the hospital?” Regent asked.

“No, boy. She doesn’t need the hospital.”

Boy?

Regent ground his teeth together.

“You’d swear that you’d never seen someone with the flu before, boy. Pretty sure the last time you were ill, I couldn’t even get you to take one day off.”

Regent brushed that away. He rarely got ill and he couldn’t afford time off anyway. But he wasn’t important.

“Plenty of rest, fluids, and medicine every four to six hours.”

“Do you think I’m going to be better by tomorrow? I’ve got to go to work,” she said.

“I think she’s delirious,” Regent said to the doctor, who was packing up his stuff. “She thinks she’s working tomorrow. Jilly, it’s Saturday. You don’t work on a Saturday, baby.”

“Do too. Doc?” she asked, looking up at the doctor sadly.

“I’m sorry, young lady. You’re not getting out of this bed for at least forty-eight hours. Rest is your friend. Understand?”

“Yes, Doc,” she said sweetly.

“You never listen when I tell you to do something,” Regent grumbled.

“That’s because you’re bossy.”

The doctor smirked at him.

“I’m not bossy. He’s bossy.” Okay, now he sounded like a child. “Why are you packing up? Won’t you need to stay and monitor her?”

Although, for some reason, he didn’t much like that idea.

Aren’t you going to stay? To look after her?

No. He didn’t have time for that. Even though he didn’t trust anyone else with her, he also had no clue what he was doing.

“I can’t, boy. I’ve got a cruise booked, remember?”

He did?

“A cruise?” Jilly asked hoarsely.

“Try not to talk unless you really have to, young lady,” Doctor Stanley told her, patting her hand gently. “At least while your throat is so sore. But yes, I’m taking Mrs. Stanley on a cruise to the Caribbean. It’s been booked for months.” He shot Regent a look.

Then Jilly shot Regent a look.

As though they were both disappointed in him for not having a clue what the old man was talking about.

“That sounds nice. Tell Mrs. Stanley I hope she has a pleasant trip. Who is filling in for you?”

“My nephew, Alister. Jardin vetted him. If it works out, Jardin said it could become permanent.”

All right. He trusted Jardin. And this did all sound vaguely familiar. Generally, he’d remember things like this, but he had other stuff on his mind at the moment.

Mainly the woman lying in the bed, looking like death warmed up.

Regent had a suspicion that she was keeping things from him.

Which was completely unacceptable.

She should tell him everything that was going on. She hadn’t even confessed that her boss was bullying her to him. He’d had to find that out and take care of the issue himself.

Although perhaps he should tell her, then at least she’d know how far he was willing to go to protect her.

He would graciously accept her gratitude.

Later. He’d tell her once she was feeling better and could give him her full attention.

“Alister should be here shortly. He said he would clear his schedule if necessary to take care of Jilly.”

“I don’t need taking care of. I can look after myself. You can all leave. I’ll be fine.” She sniffled.

“Absolutely not,” Regent told her firmly as he stood. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You need someone to take care of you.”

“Why?” she asked. “I always take care of myself when I’m sick.”

What the hell?

“What about friends? Other family?” Although he seemed to recall that they didn’t have any family close by. Orlando Crane had only had one brother who’d died young in a fight in prison.

Anne might have had some relatives, but not in New Orleans.

“I don’t want to make my friends sick. I can look after myself.”

“That isn’t happening. You could grow sicker, slip into a coma and die. You could get dizzy, slip and hit your head and die. Leave the stove on and burn down the house and?—”

“Oh, let me guess,” she said dryly. “Die?”

He scowled at her.

“And here I always thought you were a glass half-full kind of guy.”

Doctor Stanley barked out a laugh. “Not likely.”

Regent had to recite all the reasons why he couldn’t wrap the doctor’s tongue around his neck and strangle him with it.

None were coming to him.

“Thanks for coming, Doc,” Jilly said, giving him a grateful look. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, my dear. But on this, I have to agree with the boy. You shouldn’t be on your own.”

There was another knock on the door. Regent strode over and ripped it open. “What is it?”

Jose stared back at him, an eyebrow rising in surprise. All right, if Jose was showing surprise, he really was acting out of character.

He didn’t understand. He was always calm and level-headed in a crisis.

It was this girl. She was twisting him into knots. It was unacceptable. But staying away from her didn’t seem to make anything better. If anything, he seemed to think about her more.

“What is it?” he asked in a calmer voice.

“Doctor Stanley’s nephew is here,” Jose said.

“Ahh, good,” the doctor said. “Send him up. I’ll brief him on our patient.”

“I really don’t think I need a doctor to look after me. That sounds expensive.”

“You don’t need to worry since I’m paying,” Regent told her.

She eyed him. “I hope you don’t want any favors in return for payment.”

This was said right as a tall, blond man stepped into the room. His pale blue eyes swung to Regent accusingly.

What the hell? Where did she get that from?

“Of course I don’t require any favors.”

“I should hope not,” Alister said lightly.

Regent narrowed his gaze at Doctor Stanley’s nephew. The older doctor could get away with a lot since Regent had known him since he was a teenager. His nephew could not.

His attractive, far younger nephew.

“This isn’t going to work,” he stated.

Jilly coughed. “Told you. Waste of money. I don’t want anyone looking after me.”

“That’s tough. Because I’m going to look after you. No arguments.”