A Penthouse Trap, Maybe?

"Adams…" he growled.

But she didn't get far.

In one swift motion, he caught her by the waist and yanked her back into him. Her back hit his chest, and he held her there tightly.

"Goddamn it, Adams," he hissed, "give me a break. Stop acting like a wild cat and don't try to run. You can't even stand without falling."

"I can manage," she snapped, wriggling uselessly in his grasp.

He ignored her and opened the car door, practically placing her into the passenger seat like a misbehaving child. She huffed but didn't fight him this time.

Sliding into the driver's seat, Logan exhaled heavily and pulled out his phone.

"Henry," he said. "I'm heading to the penthouse near the central park. Bring a women's night suit and call the doctor. Tell him to be there in thirty."

Jean turned her head sharply. "You… called a doctor for me?"