The sharp pitch of her voice made him fight off a smile, and the relief that she had no qualms about sharing a bed again made his knees weak. “I’d never allow you to sleep on the floor. And if we share a bed, I won’t rest.”
Her cheeks flushed in that way he loved as she crept closer. “Whatever you have in mind will be even better after a few hours of sleep.”
His arm wrapped around her waist. “I’m suddenly feeling extremely alert.”
She laughed against his chest and wound an arm around his neck. “Liar. You can barely stand. Get into bed. Don’t make me raise my voice. Your head can’t take it.”
With a gentle shove, she slipped his hold and ducked around the screen for her own bath.
Ian fought to keep his eyes open as he double-checked the lock and the chair they’d placed beneath the door. Thankfully, the tiny room had no windows.
He missed his pistol sorely.
“Did you keep any cutlery from breakfast, or did the maid take it?” he asked as he staggered to the bed. “We could do with a weapon.”
Her bare arm curled around the screen and hurled a knife onto the beaten wooden dresser.
Ian laughed out loud.
“There’s a sound I haven’t heard in ages.”
“It’s a rare moment when I get exactly what I ask for. Especially with you.”
She hummed in agreement, and a comfortable silence fell between them, punctuated by the soft splash of water as she bathed. With the weapon by his side and the warmth of the quilt, tension seeped out of his body.
“I’m sorry I didn’t stop them from taking your other knife,” he said groggily. “I’ll get it back for you.”
“Thank you. I’ll enjoy watching that.”
The husky quality in her voice made his cock stiff, and he willed himself to hang onto consciousness. He turned his mind to the mire of things they needed to untangle, and half wondered why Diana didn’t press him for more information on Titus. But thinking about thefamigliemeant thinking about the decisions they needed to make, and he admitted he didn’t have the strength to do what his strong sense of self-preservation dictated.
The shuffle of Diana’s footsteps preceded the stroke of her warm hand on his forehead. “Get some rest, Ian. We’re safe here for the moment.”
He relented to sleep; he needed it to recover his strength for their protection. And so he could eventually cherish Diana’s body again.
When the midday bells of the cathedral woke him several hours later, the ache and heaviness in his joints and limbs persisted, although his head had stopped throbbing. Carefully, he turned and found Diana lying next to him, her lush lips parted as she curled on her side, facing the wall.
He ached to draw her warm body against his and bury his face in her hair. While he wanted to taste and touch every inch of her, the act of sleeping entwined with each other was as irresistible as pleasuring her.
She said she trusted him. Enough to slumber a breath away. But would it ever go beyond that? It wasn’t fair to demand something of her he couldn’t give himself, and he could never give her his whole heart. Over the years, he’d learned to harden it to become the Devil of the Docklands. All to protect the precarious legacy his father had left him.
It had been a convenient way to rationalize why he hadn’t fought for Diana. He’d convinced himself that he was following her lead, maintaining his distance so his past couldn’t taint her. Because he’d believed she wanted a life he couldn’t give her: marriage and a family.
How wrong he’d been. Since the day of her aborted wedding, she’d shown him example after example of why any woman of her position and fortune would never marry.
Ian had never entertained the idea of matrimony for himself. He’d knownIl Giocowas waiting for him.
And Diana was the only person he could ever pledge his life to.
He couldn’t allow what was unfolding between them to deepen. The only way for him to winIl Giocoand manage the aftermath was with a hardened heart.
If he had to tear his own out to save her, it would be worth the sacrifice.
Chapter Twenty-One
SantaMariadelFiore’scascade of bells assaulted Ian’s tender head as he strode into the dining room in pursuit of as much coffee as he could drink without burning his esophagus.
Through a series of discreet carriages, cargo trains, and more godforsaken wagons, Sunderland had secured their safe passage to Italy. Two arduous days of travel delivered them to the city of Ian’s birth and the townhouse the duke obtained as their base of operations.
