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"Gee, thanks." I scowl back at him. "You don’t look so hot, either," I lie.
Massimo glances between us. "Um, where should I put this?" He holds out a paper bag. "This has his medicines and prescriptions for more."
Both Seb and I reach for it, but I get to it first. "Thanks," I murmur as Seb’s frown deepens.
"I can take care of myself," he grumbles.
"And I want to make sure that you do." I set my jaw.
We stare at each other, and his scowl intensifies even more. The skin around his eyes stretches. The silence extends for a beat, then another.
Massimo clears his throat. "Guess I’ll be going then." He pats Seb on his unhurt shoulder and mutters, "In bocca al lupo."
I've picked up enough Italian to know that it means good luck.
Neither of us reply as he spins around and walks back the way they came.
Our staring match continues, then, "Elsa." Seb lowers his voice to a hush.
A shiver runs down my back. My thighs clench. Bloody hell, he’s using that Dom voice of his.
I step back and Seb walks in. As he brushes past me, that spicy, masculine scent of his fills my nostrils. My heart stutters and my pussy clenches. Goddamn. Even wounded and tired, he’s a force to be reckoned with. He stalks forward and into the living room, then comes to a halt. His gaze is entranced by the child in the area I have cordoned off in a corner of the room. Avery sits there, surrounded by her toys.
"I hope you don’t mind." I come to a halt next to him. "I needed to keep an eye on her while I work on some billing for the flower shop, so I thought I could move her to the living room and—"
"Stop," he says in a tight voice.
"I’m sorry. I guess I should have asked you. I didn’t think you’d mind though, so—"
"Elsa," he warns me.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I see him clench his fist... The fist which belongs to the arm that isn’t in a sling.
"I’ll… I’ll take her back into the nursery." I take a step forward and he grips my wrist.
"Stop, Elsa," he states. "Do you really think I’d be angry that you set up a play area for Avery in the living room?"
"I should have checked with you; I know it’s your house and—"
"You’re my wife, Elsa." He turns toward me. "I don’t know what thiscoglioneFabio did to you, but have I ever given you reason to think that this house is not your own?"
I bite the inside of my cheek.
"Have I?" He glares at me. "Tell me, Elsa."
I shake my head.
"So why are you acting like I’ll disapprove of what you did?"
"Because," I take a deep breath before I continue, "it’s my fault you were shot, Seb. It’s my fault those men, whose job it was to protect us, are still in the hospital. It’s my fault I didn’t trust you enough to tell you I was still trying to negotiate with Fabio, that he wanted me to spy on you and your brothers and pass him information of what you all were up to. I should have told you Seb." I swallow. "I’m so sorry I didn’t."
"Elsa, I—" He shakes his head. "You should’ve trusted me."
"I… do," I insist.
"But you didn’t earlier."
"I thought I did, Seb. I was going to tell you about what he’d asked me to do."
