After almost an hour, Conrad was finally able to convince Victoria to take one of the pain pills the doctor had prescribed. He knew it would help with the pain but it would also relax her, which would help him.

"What in the world?" Victoria said as he carried her into the bathroom.

Conrad had gotten a seat installed in her shower. He had gone back and forth for quit some time, debating whether to install the seat for showers or for her to take baths. Although most women find them luxurious and relaxing, he knew that Victoria was disgusted by the idea of sitting in a puddle of her own filth. Ironically, Conrad wasn't sure he had ever seen Victoria even close to being dirty.

"Nothing but the best for you, my dear." He said as he eased her into the seat. He delicately peeled the layers of clothing off of her. She closed her eyes, appreciating the way his hands roamed over her skin. Even in so much pain, she reveled in the blaze of his touch. She couldn't deny herself the fantasy of him carrying her as she wrapped her bruised legs around his waist, curing her pain with kisses.

When she finally snapped back to reality, she noticed that Conrad had shed his shirt and was standing before here wearing only a pair of shorts.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She demanded.

"Certainly you don't expect me to ruin a suit just to help clean up."

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She hadn't planned on him assisting her in showering, but it made sense. She couldn't use her foot and she was sure she'd struggle to do so much as wash her hair. She decided to pick her battles.

As the water poured down she was well aware of the steam rising. She didn't just mean the actual steam. She let a moan escape her lips as Conrad ran his hands through her hair, rinsing the conditioner out of it.

Conrad looked at her, acknowledging that he heard the moan but didn't utter a word.

"You checked me out of the hospital while I was unconscious." She said.

"Was that a question or a statement."

"A statement. My question is why."

Conrad stood up and turned off the shower.

"You hate hospitals. You hate doctors. And as much as I'd love nothing more than to let you recover in your own home, I was concerned for the safety of the hospital staff. After all, you did take a swing."

"I told her I didn't want the IV." Victoria said it in a cold voice, but when she looked at Conrad they shared a laugh.

"Thank you." She whispered, letting the words fall.

"I'm glad you're okay. You had me worried, Victoria," Conrad kissed the top of her head before lifting her out of the shower. He sat her on the bed and pulled out a lacy nightgown.

"It's the middle of the day, I can't wear a nightgown!" She shrieked. As frustrating as it was, Conrad lost the battle and ended up dressing Victoria in a skirt and cardigan. He was grateful that it would be a little more comfortable than one of her tight dresses. He was even more grateful that she agreed to wear flats instead of trying to shove a broken foot into heels.

"Do you want to sit on the balcony?" He asked her, knowing she'd agree.

"Why didn't you get a wheelchair?" She asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"It's downstairs."

"Why on Earth wouldn't you use it?" She asked.

He sighed, looking her square in the eye.

"It's much easier to carry you around than trying to carry the wheelchair up the stairs."

"I find it hard to believe you couldn't find anyone to help you, let alone that it's easier to carry me than a wheelchair."

Conrad could feel the heat rising in his face. She knew exactly how to push his buttons, constantly questioning everything. In a rush he swooped her up and plopped her on the balcony.

"What is it you are looking to hear? That I wanted an excuse to be close to you? That I was terrified that your last words to me would be to say how little our marriage meant to you? That holding you makes me feel like I can keep you safe?"

Before she could answer he rushed out of the room, making her wonder if everything he said was true.