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Angelo’s smile is tender. “You look tired,cara. You need to rest. We can talk more later.”
I tighten my grip on his hand. There’s too much living I want to do, too much I can’t say when I’m in the dark place of unconsciousness. “I’d like to call my family.”
“Of course. Sleep first and then eat something. You need your strength. You’ll have plenty of time to talk to them.” His eyes harden a little even as his voice remains gentle. “I’m flying them over. They’re arriving tomorrow.”
“They are?”
“Heidi already prepared their rooms.”
“Here?”
“Yes, here.” He presses a kiss on my forehead before standing. “Are you comfortable?”
I flinch when he helps me to lie down.
“Do you need painkillers?” he asks.
“I’m fine.”
“Another pillow?”
I shake my head.
“Later,bella,” he says with another kiss on my cheek, but he doesn’t move from the side of the bed.
When my eyes flutter closed, he’s still standing there.
ChapterThirty-One
Sabella
Atinkle of crockery pulls me from a deep sleep. I blink and take in the big bed with the cream linen and the oil paintings of landscapes on the wall. A masculine scent of citrus and cedar hangs in the air. It takes me a moment to remember.
I’m in the old house, in Angelo’s room.
Golden light tinted with rose fans through the window. The sounds that woke me pull my attention to the lounge area by the fireplace. Heidi is bent over the coffee table. She straightens from depositing a tray and smiles when we make eye contact.
“Angelo didn’t want me to wake you, but it’s almost dinnertime and you haven’t eaten all day. You need your strength to recover. Your body needs the fuel now more than ever.” She picks up a bowl and a spoon and carries them to me. “How are you feeling?”
I wince when I push up to rest my back against the headboard. “I’m okay.”
“I made chicken soup. I let it cool down a bit so that you don’t burn your mouth. Would you like me to feed you?”
“That’s kind of you to offer, but I’ll be fine.”
She hands me the bowl and the spoon. “My mother always made me chicken soup when I was under the weather.” Ironing out her apron, she adds, “Not that I’m comparing what happened to you to a cold or a little coughing. I just wanted to make you some comfort food.”
My stomach growls, agreeing with Heidi that it needs food. “That’s very kind of you. Comfort food is important. Mashed banana and peanut butter on toast are my go-to food when I need some nutritional comfort.” I take a small sip of the broth. It’s creamy and rich with sliced mushrooms and diced chicken. “It’s delicious. Thank you, Heidi.”
“You’re welcome, dear.” A scowl hardens her mouth. “Those bastards did a number on you.”
The mention of those men and what they took from me threatens to make the food push up in my throat, so I brush the memory aside and make light of the hurt that tears me apart. “That bad, huh? I haven’t looked in the mirror yet.”
Pulling a chair closer, she sits down. “Don’t you worry. The bruises will fade, and you’ll be as pretty as ever. We just have to make sure that you get enough rest and don’t overuse your brain. It’s not good for a concussion. I told the kids to be quiet so that you could rest, but you know how they are. They can’t remain still for long.”
The worry that never left me worms its way to the surface again. “Howarethe kids?”
“Those rascals?” She grins. “They’re already up to their usual mischief. Angelo had a tough time stopping them from barging in here. They whined about seeing you every ten minutes.”
