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“That’s good. It suggests you’re really healing and you should be able to keep on going.”
“But it’s not fast enough.” His gaze turns away from me and down toward the floor. I feel his anger roll from his shoulders. “I know you think I’m too proud, or that I’m a fool for pushing too hard, but things are dangerous right now, Mirella. There are men in this city that want me dead, and if they realize I’m still vulnerable then they’ll come for me. I don’t want to be a burden on my family, and I don’t want to give my enemies the opportunity to finish me off.” His fingers dig into the soft blue mat as his jaw works. “I have to do better.”
“You will,” I say and reach out to touch his shoulder.
But he moves fast, much faster than I ever would’ve guessed. He catches my fingers in his hand and stare into my eyes, his gaze hard and terrifying.
“No empty promises,” he says intensely. “No worthless platitudes. I need to get better and I have to do it quickly. You don’t seem to understand yet, but you will.” He releases my hand and it’s like dipping my fingers in freezing water. The cold vacuum of his lack is so intense I have to cover my want with several deep breaths. He struggles to his feet and looks down at me, a concerned frown on his handsome face, like he’s not sure if this feeling between us is real.
“I am going to work you to the bone, Mirella,” he says quietly. “There will be no days off. There will be no breaks. You may think you’re in control, but I promise, you are not. You will learn to obey, and I will agree to do what you suggest.”
“That’s not how this is supposed to work. You’re the patient, I’m the PT.”
He smiles as if I’ve said the silliest thing in the world.
“And you don’t know the sort of man I am yet. But you will, princess, you will very soon.”
He turns and leaves the room. I stare after him, heart racing, mouth dry. I lick my lips and feel a tremor in the hand he touched, and I’m terrified of what he’s going to do to me before this is over.
I get a single evening to gather myself. I spend it unpacking, getting a feel for my room, and wandering around the house. That night, I sleep like crap, and my stomach’s a nervous wreck. I meet him bright and early in the gym the next day. “Let’s discuss our schedule,” I say, all ready to tell him exactly how things will be from here on out.
Except he’s not interested in what I think.
“We’re doing two sessions per day, morning and late afternoon, six sharp and two sharp.”
“Absolutely not. You need some time to heal from what we do together. Two sessions might be too much. Half of physical therapy is letting your body do its thing.”
“I’d do more if I could,” he says, glaring at me. “If I don’t see acceptable progress in four weeks, we move up to three per day.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“No, princess, you won’t. Four weeks. No progress and we do more. Understood?” His tone is commanding and final, and I feel a wave of fear run down my spine.
I nod a little, looking at the floor.
How did I find myself in this situation? “Yes, Fynn. I understand.”
“Good girl. Now, what’s on the agenda this morning?”
Chapter 4
Mirella
We go through the stretching routine. Every time I touch him, it’s like lightning piercing through my body. His eyes are unrelenting and he’s not shy about looking at my mouth and breasts, and I know what he’s thinking about—he’s wondering what it would be like to get me in these positions.
To bend my leg back. To spread my legs wide and open my hips. To get me on all fours, back arched, ass in the air—
And god, it’s sick, but I keep thinking the same thing.
His firm hands on my naked, trembling flesh. His lips at my throat.
I have to stop, he’s my patient.
But he’s more than that. It’s like every second we’re around, it’s a war for who’s in control, and he always seems to win.
“On your back, we’re doing leg lifts.”
He smirks at me, head tilted, and doesn’t move. “Say please.”
“Fynn. You don’t have to be difficult about everything.”
“But I do.” He shifts closer to me and grabs my arm, yanking me up against him. I gasp in shock as I tumble forward into his lap and he holds me there on all fours. I look over my shoulder and up into his smirking eyes in shock. “Say please, Mirella.”
This man is an animal. I remind myself that the Bruno Famiglia is filled with killers and thieves, and the central Bruno family is the worst of them all. Fynn grew up in this hell and it sharpened him, hardened him, and taught him how to make people hurt. Even if he’s not at full strength at the moment, he’s more than a match for me.
