Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 125037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Psychic surgery required a transfer; it was brief, but the surgeon, as he meticulously repaired a shattered body, took on the wounds for a brief period of time. Opening the deep well of healing energy, he began, with his mind, to move the damaged pieces of Leila’s bone, muscle and veins back into place, meticulously mending each one. There were so many damaged parts, and he lost himself in the work. Once he started, there was no turning back. Healing her had become a compulsion.
Her spleen was ruptured. It was a wonder she hadn’t bled out. He knew she had gifts and she’d managed to slow the bleeding in order to give herself time to defeat her captors. He had no choice but to remove the organ. He knew she could live without a spleen, but she would have to always watch out for infections.
Her liver and gallbladder were intact as well as the large intestine, but there was some trauma to her stomach and small intestine. The bullet had entered at a strange angle, and he mapped the trajectory through the damage, making certain to clear every fragment left behind so there was no shrapnel or metal in her body. It was a painstaking process.
There was no one there to wipe the sweat that ran down his face into his eyes or hand him water. He didn’t have a partner to support his body when his strength gave out and he had to continue without rest. He’d known the surgery would be difficult, but he hadn’t realized how many hours it would take or how drained he would become so quickly. He had no other recourse than to continue no matter how tired he got. When he finished, he would be lying right next to her, unable to move, and that was if he lived.
The pain was horrendous. It crashed through him each time he moved to a new organ or vein. The bullet had exited at an odd angle through her back, breaking a rib in its path and cracking two others. It was well after dark before he finished.
He knew the crash was coming, and it was going to be bad. Already, his vision was blurred, dark around the edges. His head pounded and his body hurt beyond belief. Still, he wasn’t finished until he gave her what she needed. He hooked himself up to an IV after he removed the equipment for the blood transfer, and then it was over.
Diego went down hard, just as he feared he would. He was thankful he hadn’t been standing. One moment he was half sitting beside her, and the next everything went black.
* * *
Leila became aware of sound first. Insects droning. She registered that was a good thing but she was disoriented and at first couldn’t figure out why. Her head pounded and her abdomen felt on fire. She was afraid to move. Breathing hurt. She reached for the weapons Diego had promised would be close, just to reassure herself that she wouldn’t be taken a second time. She’d never felt so vulnerable.
It took another few minutes, or at least it felt that way, to pry her eyes open. Despite finding herself hooked up to a needle with what appeared to be an empty bag of fluids, her entire body felt dry, and her eyes and mouth were desperate for fluids.
She turned her head, and for one moment, her heart accelerated. She slowed the beat immediately and took in the man who had most likely saved her life. He hadn’t left her or given up. He’d treated her with respect, telling her step-by-step what he had to do. He’d left supplies and weapons for her, giving her every chance for survival.
Light filtered through the branches and brush covering the small den where they sheltered. The early morning rays fell across Diego’s face, illuminating the sharp angles and planes of his cheekbones and jaw. His face was a perfect sculpture of masculine beauty. She had never seen a man so gorgeous. Everything about his features appealed to her. But…Her heart sank. Was he breathing?
Her heart sped up in alarm, and once again, she deliberately slowed her pulse. It wouldn’t do any good to have both of them dead. She couldn’t do more than turn her head, fearing that moving around would destroy all the work Diego had done. She felt as if she’d had an operation, her insides sore, but she felt different from when she’d gone under.
The scent of blood was disturbing. She knew that many of the predators in the forest would be attracted to their shelter. Leila tightened her fingers around the gun. She would have to be ready to defend them. First, though, she had to determine if Diego was alive.
His body lay very close to hers. Thighs touching. She began to feel around for his arm or hand. She had to stay very still, that was what he’d said, but she was uncomfortable. Her clothes were a mess and felt sticky against her skin. That wasn’t the only problem. She couldn’t get up to use the bathroom, not that there was one. Diego hadn’t thought of that. Or had he? She hadn’t looked around for a bucket. He said he’d put everything she needed within her reach so she wouldn’t have to move. She wasn’t wearing her trousers, just her bloodstained, very tattered shirt. He’d had to take off her trousers and underwear to operate on her.