She wondered now if these guys held a grudge against Ronin and Black Arts.

Ronin still hadn’t recovered from losing his highest-ranking belts. Brody Pearson had left in protest of Ronin shitcanning the other instructors. Most of the new staff were first- and second-degree black belts—Knox had passed his fifth level right after he’d been hired full-time. She knew from talking to Deacon that testing for the fourth-level black belt was at least a couple of years away since he’d focused on MMA instead.

The key rattled in the front door, and she hastily shoved the magazine back in the stack.

Knox strolled in, plastic grocery bags clutched in his hands. He didn’t notice her as he headed to the kitchen. After dumping the bags on the counter, he cut down the hallway to the bedroom. Half a minute later he returned, relief lighting up his face when he saw her.

“Hey.” He dropped to his knees in front of her—without conscious thought, it seemed, which thrilled her. His gaze took her in from head to toe. “Happy to see you up and around. How’re you feeling?”

She made the so-so motion.

“Take any Motrin?”

She shook her head.

“Probably not a good idea on any empty stomach anyway. I’ll fix you lunch. I bought chicken and beef broth.”

Oh joy. A clear, salty wannabe soup.

“I also picked up a bunch of Popsicles.” His eyes glommed on to her lips. “And I know it sounds damn perverted, given the mouth injury you’re sporting, but watching you eat them will give me all sorts of dirty, bad, wrong ideas.”

Shiori reached out and touched this face she knew so well. This face she loved so much. And how ironic was it that the day she’d decided to tell him she loved him . . . her tongue had been severely injured? Should she consider that a sign?

Only that you should’ve told him sooner.

“I need to put the food away before some of it melts.” He kissed her fingertips and returned to the kitchen.

She’d lost interest in the magazines and replaced the stack where she’d found it. Then she sat at the breakfast bar and wrote on her notepad.

I NEED CLOTHES.

Knox leaned over and read it. “Yes, kitten, I know you need clothes.” When he lifted his head and grinned, her belly rolled again. “Which is why I picked up a few things for you today.”

YOU WENT SHOPPING?

“Yep. And the salesgirls were very helpful.”

I’ll just bet they were happy to see a strapping Viking striding into their store.

He smoothed her lips with such tenderness she ached. Because he had no choice but to be tender. Knox preferred the kind of kisses where they tried to eat each other alive.

“I’ll be right back.”

He jogged out of the house, but his eyes held wariness when he walked back in carrying two bags. The black logo of the Victoria’s Secret bag caught her attention first.

No doubt those saleswomen imagined what it’d be like for Knox’s hands to be cupping their breasts as he picked out bras. Or they imagined Knox latching on to the tiny string by the hip as he pulled the panties down with his teeth.

“Kitten, you okay?”

FINE. WHY?

“Sounded like you growled.”

THAT’S YOUR JOB.

He laughed. “True.”

SO DID YOU BUY KINKY STUFF?

“No. But I did buy what I’d like to see you in, Mistress, so please cut me some slack.”

SHOW ME!

“All right.” Knox reached into the bag and came out with black panties. Sheer, with pink rosebuds on the string that sat on the hips. Next he pulled out a pair of mint-green lace panties, followed by a pair of boy shorts, the deep purple of a ripe plum, and finally an ivory-colored thong with a peach on the front as well as the words BITE ME.

VERY FUNNY.

“So I did okay?”

She nodded.

“Good. There’s matching bras in there too for each pair of underwear.”

Why hadn’t he shown her those? She plucked the bag from his hold and dumped the remainder on the counter to see what screamed sexy to him. If any of these bras were padded, she’d use one to gag him.

Fortunately for him, he’d paid attention to the types of bras she wore and his selections were all very lovely.

THANK YOU.

“No problem. But I’m such a pig I’ll admit I like seeing you in no bra best.”

She smiled.

The next bag was from Saks. Two pairs of Juicy Couture lounge pants, with matching camisoles. And two pairs of black yoga pants with two long-sleeved shirts, one gray, one a pale pink.

AWESOME.