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Leaving her unprotected in this apartment isn’t something I’m willing to do. “Where are your father’s men? The ones he assigned to guard you?”
She shrugs. “When I got home, I didn’t need them. I had Baccio, and he’s worth ten men. I kept one down in the parking garage, but I refused to allow the others up here.” I send a text to my guy, who’s also in the garage, to check on that one.
I walk to the couch and sit down, sprawling an arm across its back. “I’m staying.”
“Please get up,” she says. “You’ll get blood all over my sofa.” Carina walks to the couch and stands before me, arms crossed. “I can take care of myself, Luca.”
My grin is humorless. “You keep saying that, but we both know the truth. I saved your life.” Her mouth opens, but I hold up a hand. “You can thank me later.”
She narrows her eyes. “I’ll get my father’s men back here so you can leave.”
“Because they did such a great job before.” I throw my other arm across the back of the couch, too. “Come now, Carina. The death of Agostino Scarpetta’s daughter is the last thing anyone needs right now. I’m staying.”
She bristles at her father’s name, but I can’t tell her I’m staying here for my own selfish reasons.
Carina touches the medallion around her neck. It’s something she’s been doing a lot lately. “Something bothering you?” I ask.
“Yes, you.”
I laugh at her quick-fire response. “Well, since I’m here and not going anywhere, how do you propose we pass the time?” I allow my gaze to trail across her body. I pushed my adrenaline-fueled lust response aside earlier when Baccio needed help, but the desire is back, stronger than ever. I can’t even blame it on adrenaline now.
It’s just Carina.
Carina picks up the remote off the glass table and drops it close to my leg. “You can entertain yourself with some TV. I need a shower.”
I keep my focus on her as she waits for me to pick up the remote. I lower my hands from either side of the couch, and relief blossoms on her face. It’s almost comical—the idea that I’d come here and kill a man for her while she stood before me in her underwear, and I’m not going to want to fuck her.
Even if the thought of her having almost certainly been with other men in the intervening years makes me want to spank her and kill them…I’m in physical pain from the idea of not fucking her. It’s like a switch has been flipped now that she’s home. I went five years refusing to allow myself to think of her. Now she’s home. and I can’tnotthink of her.
I can’tnotsee her.
I can’tnothave her.
Fuck the consequences. I’ll deal with the fallout later.
Her shoulders relax as I pick up the remote, but I don’t turn it on. Instead, I drop it back onto the couch and rise to my feet.
“A shower sounds perfect.” My voice sounds deeper than usual, even to my own ears.
Something’s becoming clearer to me each and every time I see this woman.I want her.Here in her home, so close to her, with the thought that she could have fucking died so fresh in my mind, I can’t help but want to claim her irrevocably as mine.
I want to stamp my brand on her.
I want to mark every inch of her flesh.
I want to make sure she knows who she belongs to, even if I can’t say it publicly.
That’s a problem I’m going to have to deal with.
In the meantime, I’ll deal with her and my increasingly complex feelings for her in the only way I know how.
“What’s it going to be, Carina?” I take a step toward her. “A shower?” Reaching out, I stroke my finger along the line of her collarbone. “Or a shower.”
Chapter 10
Carina
Eighteen Years Old
