Page 52 of The Doctor

Zee reached for my hand, stringing his fingers between mine before taking a step backward toward the kitchen, tugging me along. “I thought I could give you the rundown on some of the Syndicate’s worst injuries.” He tipped his head, a smirk playing at his lips. “For research purposes, of course. It won’t do for you not to know our clientele.”

Despite my quashed hope, I couldn’t help but smile. “I’d love that.”

Zee yanked me closer, until our chests touched. His eyes drifted shut, and he lowered his face until his lips pressed gently to the middle of my forehead. “Good girl,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around my back and hugging me tight. His broad chest rose, and I couldn’t help but hold him back.

Because, wasn’t this what I wanted? For him to love me like this? For this to be more than what we’d had when I was a child?

He loosened his grip, letting me go but still keeping me close. Once again, his eyes alighted on my lips, his pupils widening and turning his blue eyes dark. “Come on, kid. Let’s get to work.”

18

Clara

Zee’s smile was enough to make me dumb. Each time he sent one my way, it was like my brain cells couldn’t handle it and they started to die off. Couple that with the way he kept touching me, the way he had me tucked between his thighs as we went over patient files together at the kitchen island, and I was misfiring with every thought I had.

It didn’t help that my supply was gone. After digging through my mother’s stash, I knew there were too few pills left in the bottle for me to be able to take one unnoticed. It left me unfocused and unnerved. I couldn’t stop the tap, tap, tapping of my fingers on my thighs.

“What’s wrong?” Zee asked, his chin hooked over my shoulder, his face so close to my own. He strung his fingers between mine, stopping the incessant tapping in a way I wasn’t able to myself. “You look confused.”

I tilted my head to the side, but he was so close, my face brushed along his cheek. I nuzzled his ear, and he gave the tiniest hint of a moan. “I feel like…”

This time, a full-fledged moan pulled from his chest, my lips brushing at his throat the cause.

“What do you feel like?” he asked, turning me in my seat and yanking me out of my chair and into his lap.

An idea popped to the forefront of my mind, something I’d been wondering for a while now, but had no reason to ask. “I feel like I could use a family tree.”

Zee smoothed his hands over my ass, then tugged me closer. “A tree for what family?”

“The whole Syndicate. It’s confusing.”

“How so?”

I gestured over my shoulder to the stacks of files. “I know who Mateo Medina is, obviously,” I said, indicating the file we’d been looking over. “I’m lost on his brothers, though. Yanny and G and Diesel?”

Zee shook his head, spinning his chair so he could reach for the file. “It’s not—”

I covered his lips with my fingers. “And obviously, Rolly is Paulo’s nephew. But you’re confusing me with the whole David family. And everyone else. How am I supposed to keep all these gunshot wounds and injuries separate when I can’t place who the people are?”

Twisting in his lap, I grabbed the oldest of his files, the ones we had yet to discuss.

“Look at this.” I flipped through the stack. “Tedesco, Marconi, Scavo, Luzzato… I barely recognize these names. And these are the long-standing families, right? So I’m just supposed to fumble as I talk to these men who are old enough to be my grandfather? What if I disrespect them by tying them to the wrong family? What if they hire the Nazario family to take me out.”

“First of all,” Zee said, dragging my hand away from his lips, “it’s the Medinas who are the hitmen. The Nazarios—”

“That’s exactly what I mean!”

He shook his head, a smile tilting his lips. “Second of all, no one would dare put a hit out on the beautiful Clara Vinci.”

“Why not?” I shrugged. “It’s not like I’m important.”

“Clara.” Zee gripped my face, forcing me to look at him. “You are important.”

“I’m not, though.”

“You’re the daughter of Adalberto and Daphne Vinci. You’re Stephano’s baby sister. You’re my—” He paused, his gaze dropping to where he held my hand. He brought my fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss into my skin.

“I’m your, what?”