Page 56 of Angel

The taxi tires crunched over the gravel driveway of the villa.

Mrs. Campanelli bustled out the front door as we stepped out onto the porch, gasping at my bruised hand.

‘Madre di Dio, Signore,’ she fretted, waving her hands in the air. ‘What on earth happened?’

‘Just a little misunderstanding at the market, Mrs. C,’ I said, offering her a faint smile. ‘The bruising will go down in a day.’

‘You men are all the same,’ she fussed, marching into the kitchen to fetch cotton swabs, antiseptic alcohol, and band aids.

Roxy led me into the sunroom, guiding me down onto the cushioned bench.

She took the items from Mrs. Campanelli, kneeling on the floor between my knees while setting the salve bottle beside her ankle.

Her touch was light as she lifted my bruised hand and dipped the swab in the disinfectant, then wiped me clean.

I sucked in a breath, tensing as the sting burned.

‘Sorry,’ she whispered, her eyes flashing up to meet mine. ‘I’m trying to be gentle.’

‘You’re fine, Roxy,’ I rasped. ‘I’ve had far worse.’

‘That doesn’t mean you deserve to bleed,’ she murmured, dabbing at my skin.

She placed a bandage on me, her thumbs smoothing the edges.

My pulse thumped as I studied her profile.

‘Don’t know what I’da done if anything happened to you, Rox.’

Roxy’s eyes flew to mine, her cheeks pinking over.

‘I’m OK, honey, thanks to you.’

Again we locked eyes, and a jolt went through me as our stare intensified.

She broke it off when she took a harsh inhale, as if overwhelmed.

‘All done,’ she said, patting my arm as she stood up. ‘Let’s change and wash up for dinner.’

I tracked her progress, eyes narrowing on her, wondering at the desire flickering between us.

It was not the volatile passion I’d shared with my ex, but a steady, sensual allure that threatened my control.

She was the polar opposite of Evangeline’s chaotic toxicity; her quiet grit and tranquil nature were a soothing balm.

She also had fire and fierceness, which I appreciated.

Still, I couldn’t be with Roxy.

She was never my intended, and as soon as I gained leverage over her bastard father, Reese, I planned to dismantle our forced marriage.

Nobody trapped me, no one played me, hell, no fool ever got the better of me, least of all fuckin’ Reese Rosedale.

Later, dinner was a grand affair of grilled sea bass, blistered tomatoes, and crusty bread.

All through the meal, my thoughts kept straying to the woman across the table.

After we cleared the plates, I strode to my room and returned, placing my second black Visa card next to Roxy on the table.