He stared back, a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Another wine bottle?” I asked suspiciously.
“Yeah,” he said. “That I may have intentionally cut across my arm so I could see the hot nurse.”
I went still when I heard what he said. “You did not…”
His grin widened.
“That’s crazy.”
“Well, I’m a little crazy.” He gave a shrug. “At least, that’s what I’ve been told…often.”
I held his stare, momentarily lost in those espresso-colored eyes, paralyzed by that confession.
“If you don’t patch me up soon, I might bleed out all over this table.”
My eyes dropped back to his wound, and I put the cloth back on it to stanch the flow.
He grabbed my suture kit and opened it with his teeth, just the way I did sometimes. “Don’t worry. I won’t pass out like Salvatore. Seen a lot worse than this.”
I removed the towel and got to work, cleaning the wound with alcohol first and noticing the way he didn’t flinchwhen it should have stung. He didn’t show any discomfort when the needle poked his skin, even though I didn’t numb him first. He seemed impervious to pain.
“Where did you go to school?”
“Florence.”
“Was it always your ambition to work for your father?”
“No. I wanted to work in a hospital, but he needed me, so…”
He stared at my face, while I kept my eyes focused on the wound across his forearm.
“You said you get shot a lot. I’m guessing you get stabbed a lot too?”
“Probably going to get stabbed a lot for the foreseeable future.”
My eyes stayed on his wound, but I knew he was smiling. I could hear it in his voice. Could feel it in the energy around him. “I’d rather you not do that. Your ink is too beautiful.”
“You’re into that, huh?”
I shrugged as I continued to work.
“You know, if you’d rather I not cut myself every time I want to see you, maybe you could give me your number.”
My eyes flicked back up to his.
He continued to smirk, the most handsome and arrogant smirk I’d ever seen a man wear. Being this close to him made me feel weak, and I didn’t know how I was able to keep everything together. I only managed to suture his wound because of all the muscle memory I’d built from working in the trenches. It was second nature at this point. “My father would kill you if he found out.”
“Really? Because you strike me as a grown-ass woman who can make her own decisions.”
“Oh, I can,” I said. “But because he already doesn’t like you, any reason to kill you is a good reason.”
“Let me worry about that, alright?” he said as he continued to stare at me. “So how about that number, Francesca?”
I finished the last suture then secured it in place before I grabbed the gauze, feeling a tightness in my chest when I heard him use my full name. Something no one else ever called me, not even my own father.
This man was hot as hell. The devil in the disguise of a god. And his beautiful exterior matched his overt confidence. I could get a free drink at any bar I went to, could get the attention of most men I liked, but Wolfe was on a whole different level. Way out of my league, so hot he would burn my skin every time I touched him. Basically,it was the opportunity of a lifetime for me. A one-time hookup was probably harmless. No one would ever find out about it, and we would never speak of it again. I would think about it every time I used my vibrator, but that was my business. “Look, I never mix business and pleasure, but I’ll make a one-time exception for you.”
