Wallace was harmless, even though he was an expert marksman and had been the head of security for Donovan Industries before being wooed away by her father when her old bodyguard had retired.
She shook her head and instantly regretted it. “From being London Merriweather, Ambassador Mason Merriweather’s wild daughter.” That was how her father thought of her, she knew. And how the headlines had once viewed her.
She didn’t seem so wild right now, Reese thought. She looked almost frail and vulnerable, although he had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate that observation. “Simpler ways of doing that.”
The streak of rebellion that had become her constant companion since the day she lost her mother raised its head at his words. “Such as?”
Seemed obvious to him. “Such as you could do away with the wild part.”
Everyone seemed to have an opinion on how she was to live her life. “Will this lecture be itemized on the hospital bill, or does it fall under miscellaneous?”
He had better things to do than spar verbally with a spoiled brat who happened to be very, very lucky as well as extremely gorgeous.
“It falls under common sense.” Reese turned and once again began to walk away. “You might think about getting some.”
“I don’t like people who insult me,” she called after him.
He stopped by the door. “And I don’t like people who are careless with their lives. Especially when they have everything to live for.”
Where did he get off, saying things like that to her? He knew nothing about the pain in her life. Nothing about the emptiness. “How would you know that?”
Reese didn’t know why he was bothering. Except that she was his patient and she was in pain. Pain that went deeper than the lacerations and bruising she had sustained in the crash.
“Because most people have everything to live for, Ms. Merriweather. The alternative is rather bleak and, to my knowledge, completely nonreversible.”
With that he left the room.
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