Shattered Illusions Love Lies and Redemption (Lizetta and Remington) novel Chapter 1288

Seeing him still sitting up, she paused.

"Why are you..."

Finally receiving her attention, a flicker of grievance crossed his handsome face.

"My shoulder hurts too much to take my shirt off. Should I ring for a nurse to help?"

He reached toward the call button.

Lizetta immediately caught the obvious hint of jealousy in his tone.

He felt neglected and wanted her to pamper him.

She found it slightly amusing. His claim of being unable to undress felt a bit dramatic.

After all, he had been moving around perfectly fine at the airport and in the car.

Yet, even knowing he was playing the sympathy card to milk her for affection, her heart still ached for him.

He had taken a bullet. Just because he had a high pain tolerance didn't mean she should ignore his injuries.

Not to mention, he had taken that bullet to protect their son.

Carefully holding Joy, she stood up, walked over to Remington's bed, and gently laid the baby down beside him.

"Don't call a nurse. I'll take care of you myself."

That was exactly what he had been waiting for. Pressing his lips together to hide a triumphant smirk, he replied,

"If you're too tired, the nurses are actually quite attentive..."

Lizetta glared at him. "Remington Dashiell, what is wrong with you? I'm starting to think you've got your eye on some pretty young nurse."

Standing right in front of him, her nimble fingers quickly untied his tie.

A smile touched his lips. He leaned in, taking a theatrical sniff of her scent.

"Why do I smell something sour? Are you jealous?"

Hearing him bring it up now, Lizetta couldn't help but laugh.

"'Jealous Queen' sounds terrible. Don't call me that."

She finished unbuttoning his shirt and pulled the hem free from his trousers.

His flawlessly sculpted chest, defined abs, and sharp V-line were on full display. But with her mind entirely focused on his bleeding shoulder—and with their infant son lying right next to them—her thoughts were strictly pure.

She reached for his right hand, intending to unfasten his cuffs.

That way, she could slide the shirt and suit jacket off together without pulling at his wound twice.

But before she could even grab his hand, he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him.

Startled, she instinctively planted her hands flat against his bare stomach to brace herself.

His skin was scorching hot, radiating a temperature much higher than her own.

Pausing, she looked up at him in sudden alarm.