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And besides the need to protect her, there was something else that told me to keep her close.
Something I didn’t want to examine too closely.
That strong, irrational knowledge. That she was the one thing who kept me grounded, kept me sane in this dive back into insanity.
The weight of responsibility settled heavily on my shoulders.
I’d been alone and untouchable all my adult life, and now suddenly, as head of the Falcone family, I was a target—and those I cared for were at risk, too.
It was a complete reversal. And despite the knowledge, she was at risk.
She was mine.
And nobody would harm her but me.
I brushed a stray curl from her face, gently, careful not to wake her. She looked so young and innocent but undeniably beautiful.
My dick hardened with longing. I replayed how she looked naked, how her wet skin had felt pressed against me. How she kissed me with so much enthusiasm and longing.
She would be mine, and I would have her in my bed.
Soon.
I just needed her to want it, too.
“Rest, cara mia,” I murmured before settling down in the recliner again. “You’ll need your strength soon enough.”
I settled the gun on my lap, closed my eyes, and steeled myself for the battles that lay ahead.
The Falcone family would rise above our enemies, and I’d be damned if I let anyone—even from within the family—stand in our way.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Iwoke up with a start but kept my eyes closed and stayed completely still.
I couldn’t believe I had actually slept after everything that had happened last night. But I did—like the dead—no nightmares, no dreams. The last thing I remembered before drifting off was the soft click of the door as Gabe was leaving.
Was he here now?
My body tensed with anticipation. I held my breath, listened for him.
There was only silence—a clock clicking and muffled noises from outside, but nothing else. There was still a hint of him hanging around, mixed with the scent of coffee and something else…cleaning agent, maybe? What a strange mixture.
I opened my eyes.
Then looked around.
No Gabe—instead, a coffee table laden with a delicious-looking breakfast caught my attention—and made my stomach grumble in response.
I sat up in bed. And immediately looked to where he’d shot the two intruders the night before. I expected to see bloodstains, but where they’d been last night, only two wet spots remained—no more blood.
Did someone enter the room to clean it while I was sleeping, or did Gabe do it himself?
And how the hell did I not wake up when all of this happened?
Did he drug me again? I wracked my brain to think about what happened after our shower, but somehow, my mind got stuck on how he’d looked at me, how he’d touched me, how he’d been clearly aroused and impossibly sexy but held back at the same time.
With a sigh, I pushed those thoughts aside. How could I be attracted and appalled by someone at the same time?
