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Isabella’s head is bowed, and she mumbles something I can’t hear so I take a step close, tilt my head. “Speak up, princess!”
She lifts her head. Her chin is nearly right by my cock, and her eyes raise to mine. I suck in a breath—Oh fuck! Isabella’s head swivels, and before I can pull away, she bites into my thigh with all her might and carries on biting.
I howl in pain and drop her purse to the ground, sure Isabella is about to draw blood. I go to grab her head, but she pulls away too fast, then head butts me in the dick bringing me to my knees. My eyes water as pain resounds through my body.
“I said, come closer, and I’ll tell you!” Isabella drops her face to mine. Eyes blazing in fury. She picks up her purse. “I came here to get my purse because I have contacts, and I can’t sleep in them!”
I don’t think I can speak at the moment. All I can do is watch as Isabella swings her heavy purse at me, connecting it with my bicep, and pain rips through the muscle. “My purse is heavy, so I can use it as a weapon to swing at dumb fucks stupid enough to try and attack me.”
She hits me with it again. “You’re a fucking bastard and I hate you.” Her eyes mirror her words, and I try to breathe. “Don’t you dare lay a fucking hand on me again.” She sticks her forehead against mine. “Just remember you may have the upper hand during the day, but we’ve all got to sleep sometime.”
“You talk about me needing control over my emotions. Temper is an emotion that you don’t seem to have one bit of control over.” She picks up the towel, puts it back on, grabs her purse, and flounces out of the room. I turn my head when I hear her say to someone, “He’s going to need ice and maybe a tetanus shot.”
I look up and see Urie gaping at me like a fucking guppie.
“Don’t just stand there,” I growl. “Help me up.”
“Jesus!” Urie says, coming to my side to help me up. “Is that Isabella?”
“How much did you see?” I ask as he helps me onto the bed.
“How much did you want me to see?” Urie asks.
“None of it?” I say.
“Okay, then I didn’t you get taken down by a one-hundred-and-twenty-pound slip of a woman.” Urie grins and then frowns as his eyes fall on my bicep. “What the fuck is that purse made of?”
I look at my arm. It’s already turning blue and has bloody welts on it. “Gold bars, it would seem,” I say.
“Thank Christ, she didn’t hit you in the head,” Urie points out.
“I have no doubt Isabella wanted to,” I answer, pushing myself up from the bed. “What are you doing here?”
“I asked Hannah to track the client who sent the container,” Urie tells me, doing a shadow dance around me, waiting to see if I need help walking.
“I can walk!” I grumble, limping down the hallway. We pass my bedroom door, and I see it’s closed. I stop outside it for a minute.
“Seriously?” Urie looks at me with raised brows. “She’s taken you down twice tonight. I wouldn’t tempt her with a round three. Isabella looked pretty mad to me when she flounced past me.”
Urie’s right. But I also know I need to apologize. I was so furious with her that she’d dare defy me or attempt another escape, and I didn’t stop to think Isabella may have needed something from her purse.
Fuck! I run my hand through my hair, ignoring the throbbing in my arm where Isabella hit me twice. I step away from the door and look around to see Urie has disappeared. He probably ducked out, thinking I was going to go into the room.
Instead, I walk on toward my office. I’m heading for the bathroom off to the side of it when Urie appears at the door with a tea towel of ice.
“Brought you some ice.” Urie holds up the tea towel.
“Who told you about Isabella taking me down the first time?” I stop at the bathroom door.
“I saw it when I was going through the security footage,” Urie says. “You know I’m the head of your security as well as your right-hand man.” He grins.
“Are you being funny?” I look at him with a blank expression, but it only makes him laugh harder.
“Well, you did take quite a knock to the balls,” Urie reminds me. “I just thought it might have affected your brain.”
“Fuck you,” I say, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. “Give me a minute. I need to check the damage to my thigh.”
“Can you take a picture of the bite marks?” Urie calls after me. “Olga wouldn’t believe me otherwise.”
