Drake Sisters 06 - Turbulent Sea

inside the gates without the reporters hounding us.'
    Joley bit back a protest. What difference did a few minutes make? 'My head really hurts, Ilya.' Her hand went to the door handle again as the urge to move, to keep moving drove her. It was more than pain in her head; there was a roaring, as if her mind couldn't be still when she needed calm most. The noise made it impossible to think.
    'I know, laskovaya moya. Another few minutes and I'll take care of it.'
    He pressed his hand to the cut on her head. That was the one he was most worried about. The ones on her arms and legs were from glass shards or flying metal. They hurt and a couple might need a stitch or two, but the one on her head was larger and she was obviously still dazed. She was attempting to stay focused by chattering, but she kept trying to move, to get out of the car, to brush at her head, and she didn't even realize she was doing it.
    His heart ached with love for her. She was courageous, looking out for his safety when she should have been weeping in his arms.
    'That hurts,' Joley said, trying to pull away.
    'I know, devochka moya. I need to slow down the bleeding. It will help get the healing started as well. Relax for me and just let me take care of things.'
    He kept his hand pressed to her forehead, palm over the cut, warmth moving from his center to her head. Colors spun for a moment, many different ones, spinning in an ever tightening circle until white light burst through, taking all the colors and turning them into flashes of heat.
    She had forgotten that he possessed all the talents, just as Elle, her youngest sibling, did, and healing was among them. She knew from experience, watching Libby, that a cut as deep as the one she had wouldn't magically disappear, but he certainly helped slow the flow of blood and took away a great deal of the throbbing. Even the ringing in her ears was better.
    'I think I was in shock.'
    Joley tried to sit up, but Ilya tightened his hold. 'Stay still. Relax. Breathe. Let me take care of you for a few more minutes, at least until my heart slows down.' He nuzzled the top of her head. 'You scared me this time.'
    'I didn't blow up my bus,' she pointed out.
    'Who did you make angry this time?' he asked.
    She found a small smile forming, and the coldness inside receded a little. 'You can compare notes with my security people. They think I'm a nightmare.'
    'They're right. And don't think I won't be talking to them. What the hell were they doing holding a line instead of getting you the hell out of there? One explosion doesn't mean there's not going to be another. And if you were the target, they should have secured your protection before anything else.'
    There was an edge to him, not his voice, but his melody, his aura - she felt it and shivered. She was astonished that he could hold her the way he was when he had his own injuries.
    'Just let it go, Joley,' he murmured softly. 'Relax and let me take care of you.'
    But who was going to take care of him? She closed her eyes and inhaled him. He smelled of blood and sweat, but also that strange, male musk she found so enticing about him.
    'You can't go to sleep on me,' Ilya warned. 'We're pulling through the gates now. No one knows about this house, not Nikitin, not anyone. I'm going to have my driver contact the police to send a detective out to interview you after I take care of your wounds. Then you can rest.'

    'He can't see you,' she protested. 'No police, Ilya. I'll go down to the station after I take care of my head.' Her aching head. Even with his healing energy, her brain was shaken.
    He carried her from the car, once again disregarding his own wounds, sheltering her against his heart as he crossed open ground to the door. Once inside, he carried her into an enormous tiled bathroom and set her on the sink.
    'This is going to hurt, Joley.'
    'I know. But I can always sew you up next. You did my arm and it's healing fine.'
    'I have a little experience with wounds.'
    Joley was certain that was an understatement. She'd seen his body and the various scars covering him. He had three more to add to his collection.
    He washed the gash on her forehead carefully with a fiery liquid that had tears running down her face, but she held still for him. She breathed in deeply as the room began to spin and the edges of her vision blurred.
    'Talk to me.'
    Ilya tried to infuse more healing warmth into the wound before he began the tiny stitches necessary to close it. 'Tell me what