BOUND TO HIM (Book II: Captured series)

34. Elle

My recovery didn't happen overnight, however, one morning, the dull, heavy ache in my bones simply wasn't there anymore.

For weeks, my world had been confined to the perimeter of our bedroom, the short walk to the bathroom, and the quiet sanctuary of the soft leather couch downstairs. But today, when I stood up from the bed, my legs felt solid. My mind didn't feel wrapped in cotton. The physical ghost of the hospital had finally faded, leaving behind a body that was ready to live again.

I was standing by the bedroom window, tying my hair up and watching the morning light cut through the trees outside, when the door pushed open.

Logan stepped in carrying a tray of my usual breakfast and coffee. He paused for a fraction of a second when he saw me standing fully dressed in a soft knit sweater and jeans—no blankets draped around my shoulders, no trembling hands resting on the bedpost for support.

A subtle, quiet relief softened the sharp angle of his jaw. His own wounds had healed by now. As soon as he got the clearance from his doctor, he resumed going to the gym hidden in the basement. Logan dressed in his usual suits was a sight to behold but watching him in a pair of grey sweatpants and white t-shirt caused a flutter in my stomach.

He walked over, setting the tray down on the nightstand before wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. He pulled me flush against his chest, burying his face in the crook of my neck and breathing me in.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against my skin. "Standing on your own."

"I told you I was feeling better," I said, leaning back into his warmth. I reached up, my fingers trailing through the dark hair at the nape of his neck. "No more carrying me down the stairs, Logan. No more monitoring my water intake down to the ounce. I'm officially retiring as your patient."

"Is that so?" He chuckled softly, a low sound that vibrated against my back. But when he pulled back to look at me, there was a steady, deliberate look in his dark eyes.

"However, I don't mind you making me breakfast every morning" I smile.

"Good," he said, cupping my cheek with his thumb. "Because you're going to need your energy today."

I raised an eyebrow, searching his face. "Why? What are we doing?"

He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a small leather-bound notebook, and tossed it onto the bed. "I told you I was going to tear down everything that threatened us and build something safe. A place that's ours. No shadows, no past, no family business attached to the front door."

I looked from the notebook up to his eyes, my heart giving a sudden, nervous flutter. "Logan... what is that?"

"A list," he said simply, his hand coming back to rest firmly on my hip. "We're going house hunting."

The breath caught in my throat. For so long, home had been a place where we hid, where we recovered, or where we braced for the next hit. The idea of choosing a home—a real home, built for a future where we weren't just surviving—felt almost impossibly bright.

"House hunting?" I whispered, a small, genuine smile finally breaking across my face.

"I figured you wouldn't want to go back to the mansion and what better way to have a fresh start" He mumbled, his thumb gently smoothing over my cheekbone, his gaze fierce and protective.

He was right, the last memory I have of the mansion is Logan getting shot and I don't think I'd ever want to revisit that place.

"But first–" he grabs my hand and makes me sit on the edge of the bed. "You need to eat" he instructs as he pushes the tray of food in front of me. On today's breakfast in bed menu we have avocado toast with a poached egg on top. The lengths this man has gone to ensure I'm eating healthy lately knows no bounds.