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I breathed him in, shuddering at each exhale, unable to take in everything that was happening. My senses were on overload. Lucius’s hands traveled up my body, and he cradled my face, tilting it back.
I met his mesmerizing eyes, not getting a word out before his lips found mine. His tongue traced my lower lip, and I opened willingly, craving him, desperate for his kiss. His taste.
We were both breathing heavily by the time we broke apart. I whimpered at the loss, my lips tingling, my body humming. Lucius sank back onto the mattress, exhaling deeply once he was lying down again. He took my hand when I settled back into my previous position, cradling it to his cheek. “I’m fine. It’s not the first time I broke my ribs.”
I inhaled a sharp breath. “You broke your ribs?”
“A bullet hit my vest.”
I blinked at him. “Did you just say you got shot?” My voice rose with each word. “Don’t you think you should have mentioned that earlier?”
He kissed my hand. “It’s not important.” He stopped me from saying anything else when he pressed his lips to mine again, this time only for a quick peck. “Will you stay while I get some sleep?”
His eyes had already closed, and his breathing evened out before I could respond. I shuffled even closer and watched the rise and fall of his chest.
I didn’t know how long I lay there with him, making sure he was still breathing, before the door opened, and Santino stepped back into the room, the usual scowl on his face. I sat up, putting a finger to my lips and nodding at Lucius.
Santino sank into one of the two chairs in the room. I got up, taking the other chair, careful not to jostle Lucius.
“If you’re not serious about him, don’t drag this out. He’s had enough shit slung at him in his life. He doesn’t need any more.” Santino’s voice was so low, I had to strain to hear him.
“Why would I wait for over ten hours in a dingy hotel room if I wasn’t serious about him?”
He shrugged. “Maybe you think he still has money. His father was incredibly wealthy.”
I balled my fists on the table, and Santino noticed. He smirked. “You gonna hit me?”
“If you keep implying that I’m here for a payday, then yes, I’m going to hit you.”
He shrugged. “You’re half my size and have never hurt a fly. I think I’m safe.”
I gritted my teeth. “I liked you better when you didn’t talk.”
“I liked you better when you were a frightened little mouse.”
We engaged in a stare-off, neither one of us willing to back down.
“You guys done? Or should I wait outside until you settle whatever you’re arguing about?”
I plastered a smile on my face and turned to Lucius, the first to break eye contact. “Santino thinks I’m after your money.”
Lucius grated out a laugh. “You’re welcome to it. The whole twenty dollars I have in my wallet. Because that’s all I’m worth these days.”
“Where’s all the money? Maurizio had more accounts than he could keep track of,” Santino said, typing something on his phone.
Lucius shook his head. “I handed all the accounts over to the CIA.”
Santino’s head snapped up. “Are you insane? Why would you do that? You deserve some of it.”
“I don’t want a cent of his dirty money.”
Santino blinked a few times in quick succession, as if he had to assure himself this was actually happening. “He had a few legitimate businesses. You could have taken some of those earnings.”
“I still have money in my US accounts. I’ll be fine until I can find another job. Don’t worry.”
Santino sputtered and turned to me. “List all the accounts. There has to be one this idiot missed when he handed everything over.”
There had been the one regular transaction that seemed out of place, but I’d been too scared to say anything in Guyana. But now that I was safe, there was nothing stopping me from mentioning it. “Maurizio must have had an account in the US as well, because he deposited money into it every month.”
