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“You need to eat, farfallina.” His strong arm wrapped around me, and my back was propped against his hard chest. I could feel his steady heartbeat, and mine matched it, beating in tandem.
His other hand lifted a chunk of melon to my lips, and I parted them to accept the sweet fruit. My eyelids were so heavy, so I allowed them to drift closed as I released a low hum of contentment. Dull pain still throbbed near my right hip, but I was in Massimo’s firm but careful embrace. I loved when he held me like this: like I was precious and delicate. A treasure to be cherished.
“Good girl,” he murmured as I ate from his hand. “You’re doing so well, dolcezza.”
His praise warmed my chest, and I sank into him with a sigh. Nothing bad could touch me while Massimo held me. Even the pain ebbed, receding to a soft twinge.
I finished the meal with his low, coaxing words rumbling over me, and then I drifted down into sleep again.
His arms were around me, lifting me. I hissed a pained breath as the movement jarred my hip, and he shushed me gently. He cradled me against his chest and carried me, his steps steady and sure, careful not to jostle me.
The cool tub replaced the heat of his body, but his big hands didn’t stray from my skin. He maintained tender contact, stroking and reassuring. Warm water cascaded over my hair, the weight like a gentle massage that eased all tension from my muscles. I relaxed against the tub and tipped my head back, allowing the weight of it to fall into his hands as he lathered my hair with shampoo.
“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Let me take care of you.”
I obeyed, sinking into warm bliss as he rubbed my scalp in soothing circular motions. I trusted him completely, and I knew he would always care for me. I didn’t have to worry about anything as long as I was with him.
I stirred, stretching stiff muscles. Pain flared at my hip, a sharp twinge.
But Massimo was holding me, his arm draped around my shoulders and his hand skimming up and down my arm. I released a long breath, and the pain faded.
I blinked up at him, my mind clearer than it had been in…longer than I knew. I wasn’t aware of how long I’d been drifting in and out of consciousness.
The last thing I remembered before the hazy days was the violence that’d exploded through Stefano’s club. Massimo had raced toward me, his beautiful face a mask of primal fear.
But we weren’t in the club. I recognized the bedroom in the opulent suite where Massimo had been staying in Stefano’s high rise. We laid on the massive four poster bed where Massimo and I had joined in the most intimate way possible. I was safely cuddled against him. The room was still and quiet, with no sounds of gunfire or shouts of panic.
“What happened?” My voice came out slow and slightly slurred, my mind still a bit fuzzy.
Massimo’s jaw ticked, but his touch remained gentle. “You don’t need to worry about anything. Just rest.”
“But the fight at the club…” People had screamed as they died. Fear punched me, and I jolted in his arms. Ignoring the answering flare of pain, I asked, “Is Carmen okay?”
The cartel queen had been right beside me while the violence unfolded around us.
“Carmen is fine.” He reassured me, but his jaw remained hard as granite. “You need to stay calm. Don’t move.”
I relaxed against him, obeying without thought. “But what happened?” I asked again. “Was anyone hurt?” My eyes searched his, looking for signs of pain. If my dark savior had been injured…
“You were hurt,” he almost growled. “You were shot, Evelyn.”
Lines of strain appeared around his flashing eyes, but the pain I saw in their depths was for what had happened to me. He hadn’t been hurt in the fight.
I breathed a small sigh of relief and trailed my fingers along his jaw to ease the tension away. His rough stubble had grown longer, almost a short beard.
“How long ago?” I asked quietly. My beautiful protector was uncharacteristically disheveled, his glossy black curls untidy, as though he’d run his hand through his hair many times. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, marring his golden skin.
“Ten days,” he replied in clipped tones. “I’ve been managing your pain, but I need you to stay still and focus on recovering. You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ll take care of you. Get some more sleep. I’ll be right here.”
I blinked. I’d been mostly unconscious for over a week, and Massimo had been taking care of me. He looked shattered.
“What about you?” I challenged quietly. “Have you slept?”
He turned his face into my hand and kissed my palm. “I’m fine, dolcezza.”
I tipped my chin back. “I’ll sleep if you sleep.”
His eyes narrowed with displeasure, not caring for my defiance.
