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“Shut up!” Isla shouts, her hand shaking erratically. I have no idea if she knows how to fire a weapon, but I’m guessing not. “On your feet! Both of you!”
“Isla,” I murmur, slowly rising with my hands at half-mast so she can see I’m not a threat. She should know that anyway, but she is scared, and she heard the gunshots and saw the fight. “Give me the gun.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head rapidly and stepping back, training it on me briefly before returning her aim at Dante. “He was hurting you.”
“I’m okay,” I say gently, my heart swelling with affection for this fierce woman who is trying to protect me. “You should’ve stayed in your room where I told you to.”
“Why? So I could come down to your dead body? Or be killed as well?”
“Oh, I’m only interested in killinghim,” Dante retorts.
“Shut up!” she screams, taking a step forward. Her eyes are wild, and she is running on fear fuelled with the need to save me.
“Isla. Give me the gun.” I risk holding my hand out to her, and she stares at it for a moment.
“No, he will hurt you.”
“I’m okay.”
“No.”
“Isla. This is Dante DeVare. We are old friends.”
“Friends?” she scoffs.
I chuckle quietly. “Enemies, maybe. This fight was coming for a long time, but it’s over now.”
The questions race through her mind, but she doesn’t say anything, so I step forward until I reach her. Grabbing the barrel of the gun, I lower it slowly, and she lets it go. I flick the safety back on and shove it in the back of my pants, catching her as she collapses against me. Wrapping my arms around her, I murmur, “Everything is fine, Isla, I promise.”
She nods and lets out a choked sob. “I was so worried.”
“I’m okay, I swear.” I kiss the top of her head, catching the raspberry scent of her shampoo and tighten my hold on her. “But you’ve been a naughty girl. You were supposed to stay in your room where you were safe.”
“I had to see if you were okay.”
She looks up at me with eyes pooled with tears, and it rips at the restraint I’ve barely hung onto around her these last few days.
Feeling Dante’s curious gaze on us, I turn to him and frown. His gaze is filled with a deep lust and something akin to longing.
“You!” Isla suddenly snaps, pulling away from me. “You were the delivery driver.”
“Yep,” he says, pulling his gaze up to her face and regaining his arrogance. “Nice to see you again.”
“Fuck you,” she spits out and yanks out of the remainder of my grasp on her. She marches up to Dante and slaps him so hard in the face, I can’t hold back the snort of amusement. “You are a complete and utter twat,” she snarls, raising her other hand to slap him on the other cheek.
But he’s quicker, and grabs her hand, stopping her. “You get one of those, darling and only because I wanted to feel your hands on my skin.”
“Get fucked,” I snarl as he moves in on my territory while I’m still fucking standing here. “Have you no shame?”
“None when it comes to precious angels. Be careful, Gideon. I might take this one from you before I burn your cold, rancid corpse and dance on your ashes.”
“Jesus,” I snap. “Let go of her and go to my office. We clearly have shit to talk about.”
“No kidding, fuckhead,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving Isla’s as she struggles in his tightening grip.
Clamping my hand over his, I crunch his knuckles together and grit out. “Let her go, Dante.”
With a vicious smile, he lets her go, but I can see the fascination he has with her. Luckily for me, she is glaring at him with all the venom of a black mamba and hisses as she crosses her arms tightly over her chest.
