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“Why on earth areyousorry?”
“I would never have really gone. Not for long, anyway.” The mafia princess looks miserable, and her face only falls more when she peels off my ruined t-shirt and gets a proper look at my wound. “If I hadn’t thrown such a tantrum—if we’d only stayed at that stupid safe house—”
“Hey.” I grip her thigh, squeezing as the old man tips alcohol over the wound. It stings like a motherfucker, so I focus on the glacial pool of Allegra’s eyes. They’re brimming with tears, but so beautiful. I could look at them forever, and I don’t think that’s delirium talking. “You didn’t mean for any of this to happen. It’s not your fault, sweetheart, and with those hits out on us all, it was only a matter of time.”
“But you’rehurt.” The word scrapes out of her, like she’s wounded too. Like my pain is her pain.
I know that feeling.
“It’ll heal. And I’ll have a new scar to show off.”
Allegra smacks my good shoulder, and I bark a surprised laugh. “Only to me, Raul Ossani.”
Now that we can agree on. “Only to you.”
The needle pricks my shoulder, the pain sharp and hot, but with the warm weight of Allegra on my thighs…
I barely feel it.
* * *
“You need rest.” The old doctor stands in the doorway, bundled in his stiff black coat, leather medical bag dangling from one gnarled hand. A signet ring winks on one finger—another sign that he’s well used to the underworld. “Tell De Rossi to stop running you all like dogs.”
I choke back a laugh. “Yes, signor.”
The doctor grunts and shuffles through the doorway.
Allegra chews on her bottom lip, her ass still balanced on my thighs. “I could talk to Santo if you like.”
The door clicks shut as I stroke her cheek with my good hand. “I’m not scared of your brother, Allegra.”
Do I have a healthy respect for the calculating mob boss? Certainly.
Do I think he’ll harm the love of his sister’s life? Not, I do not.
Besides, I grew up with Santo. I’ve bled with him; played cards with him; stitched his wounds; built his empire at his side. Nico and Diego, too. We’re a cozy, twisted family.
The bed creaks as we shift, getting more comfortable, neither of us in any rush to move apart. The warmth of Allegra’s body on my legs is the sweetest thing I’ve ever felt, and the room glows with soft lamplight.
“Did you see Diego with that maid?” Allegra whispers, smoothing her fingertips around the edges of my sling. “He looked like a cat with a mouse.”
“Or Santo with a plate of cookies.”
She snorts, dark hair fluttering against her cheek, and adds: “It’s the same way you look at me.”
“And how do I look at you, Allegra?”
I can’t stop touching her; tracing the shell of her ear, then trailing my fingertips down the side of her neck. She’s so velvet-soft. So warm and vibrant, her pulse ticking faster under her skin.
“Like you want me.” Allegra wets her bottom lip, squirming closer on my lap. “Like you’d do anything to have me.”
I nod. “That’s true.”
“And like… like I belong to you. Like if I really left, you’d follow me. You’d bring me back.”
I lift my good shoulder, because I’m not proud of that fact, exactly. It’s not very evolved.But it’s true and I’m tired of hiding my feelings; tired of reining myself in. Tired of pretending that the way I crave this woman is normal or healthy or sane.
“Yes. Where you go, I follow. But not to bring you back to Santo, sweetheart. To keep you withme.”
