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I like Connor. He has a strong, solid head on his shoulders and being married to Rose’s sister will help grow the bonds between the families.
“What about Dimitri?” I ask, catching the way Gabriella tenses her shoulders. I still don’t like that the man is on a first-name basis with my baby sister.
“Sergei assures me that Dimitri didn’t know anything either.”
“What do you think?”
“That Dimitri didn’t know about Igor.” Gabriella interrupts our dad before he can reply. “He wasn’t lying.”
Dad and I exchange a look. Neither of us is sold on the Russian, and if he’s covering for his boss, he’s as good as dead anyway.
A nurse enters and gasps in surprise at the crowd of people in the room. Her eyes zero in on Enzo.
“Mr. Accardi! You are not supposed to be out of bed,” she reprimands him.
Evelyn smacks his shoulder, ignoring his tiny cry of pain. “You said you were cleared to be in the wheelchair.”
Enzo hisses and glowers at both women. “Well, excuse me if I heard my best friend woke up from a weeklong coma. I had to come see him.”
“Well,” she mimics his condescending tone. “Now you have. Back to your room.”
Enzo groans and grumbles his goodbyes as Evelyn pushes him out of the room. Dad and Mom leave next, taking Raphael and Gabriella with them. Once the nurse leaves after administering a pain medication I tried hard to refuse, it’s just Rose and Liam with me.
My gaze moves to Rose. She’s still holding my hand, but her head is bowed, her hair hiding her face from me. Unacceptable.
“I’m so sorry, Michael. Please don’t hate me for lying about who I really am and for keeping it a secret. Because if you do—” She raises her face, and the tears streaming down her cheeks fall on our clasped hands. “I just…I can’t. So please, don’t hate me.”
“I could never hate you,” I tell her honestly. “I just told you I love you, remember? And I’m sorry for all the horrible things I said on the beach. I didn’t mean a single word of it and regretted my behavior the moment you left. I jumped to conclusions and pushed you away in anger, which set off this entire domino chain of a shitstorm. This is all on me and only me. I’m sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”
She reaches over and cups my cheek with only love in her eyes. “I really do love you, Michael. You never need to ask for my forgiveness because you already have it. You always will.”
“I love you too.”
I must have horrible breath after being unconscious for days, but she leans in and kisses me anyway. My body might be weak, but one particular part is fully awake and excited. Only my attempt to relieve the pressure backfires when my leg rebels, forcing me to groan against her mouth. Rose pulls back and looks down at my blanket-covered legs. Her blush when she sees the obvious bulge is enough for me to say fuck it and push through the pain.
“I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“Sweetheart, if you don’t climb on top of me right now, I might just die,” I tell her, enjoying how her blush deepens in color, and I know she’s envisioning the idea.
Rose looks over her shoulder at Liam’s sleeping form in his mobile crib before she turns back to me with a sly smile. Carefully, she swings her body up and over, mindful of our wounds, and settles down on my lap with a content sigh as if she’s finally coming home after a long time away. She leans forward, that playful spark I remember so vividly from the first night we met dancing in her eyes.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” I tease, nibbling at the corner of her lips. “Use your words.”
“I want to burn.”
And we did…
…until the nurse came back for night rounds, that is.
37
Rose
Two weeks before Christmas Eve
I once thought of Miami as a pretty prison. Funny how a person’s view can change when the ugliest part is removed and replaced by something far more beautiful.
Life over the past month has been a whirlwind. Once released from the hospital, Michael and I barely had a moment to ourselves. There seems to always be someone at the penthouse. It was nice for the first week. Now, it’s getting a little too crowded.
