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“I don’t need—”
“I wasn’t asking,” he says. “I promised Lucas I wouldn’t let anything happen to you while I was here.”
“Considering I did this to myself...” Seeing that his expression brokers no argument, I sigh and drop onto the ottoman. “Fine, fine. Do your worst, or whatever.”
Theo pauses on his way into the bathroom. “Believe me, kid,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at me, “I know when to be gentle.” There’s something dangerous in the look he gives me, but also possessive. Predatory, but seductive.
A shiver goes down my spine, and I look away, embarrassed and confused. I can’t stop the blush that tinges my cheeks as he steps into the bathroom and rummages in the medicine cabinet. The thought of him touching me rolls through my mind, and I find myself staring at him, wondering what those hands would feel like on my arms, my back, my hips…
He returns a moment later and drops to his knees in front of me, and when he pushes up the hem of my shorts to examine the cut, goosebumps break out on my skin. “Well,” he says as he pours alcohol on a cotton swab, “the good news is, I don’t think you’ll need stitches.”
“That’s the first bit of good news I’ve had all day,” I joke, and then hiss when he swabs the wound.
Theo’s gray eyes immediately snap up to mine. “You all right, kid?”
“Stings,” I mutter. “Don’t mind me.”
Theo is silent for a moment. “So what happened?” he asks.
“What do you mean?” I reply. “The part where I was drowning my sorrows in the bath, or the part before that?”
“The part before,” he replies as he works. He was right; heissurprisingly gentle, his fingers deft and controlled, like I’m made of glass. “As in, whatdroveyou to drown your sorrows in the bath?”
I sigh and chew my lip, debating whether to tell him about my call with Lucas. It’s a horrible idea—they’re brothers, and Dad doesn’t want me getting any closer to Theo—but right now, I could use a sounding board. Besides, he’s already seen me in a towel, so I’d say I’ve already blown that second part.
“I talked to Lucas today,” I say slowly, aware of the way Theo goes tense for a second when I say his brother’s name. “About the job.”
“And?” His voice is strained.
“And...” I press my lips together as he rubs some antibiotic cream on the cut, then starts to wrap it in a bandage. “And he doesn’t want me taking the job.”
There’s a long pause, and Theo doesn’t look at me for any of it. Just when I’m starting to worry I’ve fucked up again, he looks up at me, meeting my gaze, and says, “I think you should take it anyway.”
I frown. “Theo, that’s not... I can’t. That’s crazy.”
“Is it?” he asks. “You said it yourself. You’ve wanted this for years.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do?” I throw my hands up, my wedding ring flashing in the light. “He’s my husband, Theo. I can’t just lie to him.”
Theo shrugs his broad shoulders, that maddeningly confident look back on his face. “So don’t.”
I snort. “Did you miss the part where he told me no? I know how things work around here, Theo. I’m supposed to be the well-behaved little mob wife, and if I don’t, then Lucas will get pissed, and I’ll get in trouble.”
“You won’t, kid,” Theo replies bluntly.
“How can you possiblyknowthat?”
“Because Lucas doesn’t have as much power as he thinks he does,” Theo states, his eyes not leaving mine.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Is this the part where you tell me he can’t make my life miserable if he feels like it?”
“He can’t,” Lucas says, “and he won’t. I won’t let him.” He leans forward, his expression earnest and intense. “Take that job, kid.”
ChapterEight
“Well, Ms. Dalton—” Craig Sterling begins, folding his hands on his desk as he looks over my resume. He’s intimidating in person: probably in his early sixties, and with graying hair, but so stocky and muscular that I could almost peg him for a retired rugby player.
“Actually, it’s, um, Mrs. Emmerico now,” I interject, stifling a wince. It sounds wrong, and I’m starting to think I’ll never get used to it.
