But when has being irrational produced rational behavior?
“Are you cold,viziata?”
The deep baritone sound has me closing my eyes in momentary tranquility. When I heard his voice for the first time after being knocked unconscious, I swore it was an angel sent to take me to heaven. That wasn’t correct. At least not entirely. Rafael was an angel, but a fallen one; A harbinger of death and revenge to those who hurt me.
And when I opened my eyes to find him staring down at me? I was at peace with the intensity in his gaze because I knew the angst, fear, and rage were on my behalf. I’m not sure if anyone besides my sister has felt like that for me.
I shake my head in answer to his question about being cold. It’s possible my body temperature has dropped, however, it doesn’t matter to me. I’ll happily absorb Rafael’s warmth.
The entire car ride back to his place is spent with me on his lap and him holding me, while offering me comfort in simple touches. A gentle sweep of his thumb across my arm. Rubbing tiny circles on the small of my back. Tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ear.
I’ve never allowed a man free reign to touch me and I’ve certainly never enjoyed it. But right now? I’m more than enjoying it, I’m reveling in it. If I had the energy to figure out my reactions, as well as understand their repercussions, I would. Yet, I’m so emotionally, mentally, and physically spent that I’m allowing myself any indulgence. Securing Rafael’s help in order to save my sister is still the goal. That hasn’t changed.
Only my indifference to him has.
The vehicle comes to a stop and without a word, Rafael exits with me still in his arms. He strides through the doors with the confidence of a man only attributed to some, and shortly after we’re in his penthouse. His men take up their positions, becoming silent shadows once again, and what I thought was once a cage is now a place of refuge.
Rafael sets me on the couch and then walks over to the cabinets to grab the decanter. He stills for a moment, his knuckles turning pale from the force of his grip, and then he exhales. After grabbing a tumbler, he fills it, downs it, and fills it again.
I do nothing except watch.
Now that we’re back in familiar territory, uncertainty plants itself in my gut and begins to spread like a weed. I needed the flash drive in order to give Rafael the information he’s wanting, but in doing so, I put him and his men’s lives in jeopardy. It wasn’t my intention.
But the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Or so I’ve been told.
My neck is sore from the attacker choking me and I massage the area while swallowing to alleviate a parched throat. “I’m sorry.”
Rafael, who is now on his third glass of alcohol, walks over to the couch and leans against the armrest. His body may appear relaxed, but that’s far from the truth. There’s a tightness to his lips and a tenseness to his shoulders he can’t quite hide. At least not from me.
He folds his arms, drink still in hand. “For what?”
“For endangering your life, as well as your men’s.”
“Is that all?”
The lilt or tone of his question is similar to being pricked by a needle; Hurtful but not devastating. It’s obvious he’s upset with me and I accept that, but I want to be at peace with him. Not only for my personal agenda.
For myself.
“I’m also sorry I inconvenienced you,” I say. “By going to my apartment, I not only risked your lives, but wasted your time as well. That’s what I’m apologizing for.”
A smile creeps over his lips, upturning them into something close to a snarl. His gaze, bright with high levels of intensity, immediately darken. His nearly black eyes become an onyx so dense in pigment, his pupils disappear making him appear otherworldly.
If he hadn’t saved my life earlier, I’d be in fear of losing it.
He downs the remaining contents of the tumbler and then slams it on the end table, making me jump. “I’m not accepting that shit from you,” he says. Rafael resumes his casual position and cocks his head. “Don’t ever offer repentance until you’ve paid for your sins.”
I blink at him and the uncertainty within me morphs into unease. Where is my fierce protector, the person who risked everything for me? I’ve done something to piss him off, but I’m clueless as to what it could be, other than what I’ve already tried to make amends for.
A knock at the door causes me to start and I wrap my arms around my middle, following Rafael with my gaze as he walks to the entrance. He opens the door and greets a middle-aged man, who’s wearing a pair of khakis and a green sweater. His gold-rimmed glasses make his eyes similar to an owl’s, large and observant.
The men exchange a handful of words, too low for me to hear, and then Rafael allows him inside. The two of them join me in the living room and the stranger takes a seat on the couch, opposite of me, with Rafael hovering nearby.
“I’m Dr. Williams, or you can call me Larry,” the newcomer says. “Mr. Silvestri asked me to come and give you a physical in order to ascertain that you have no injuries which require medical attention. Are you up for it?”
Before I can respond, Rafael says, “She better be up for it since she doesn’t have a fucking choice.”
The physician frowns in Rafael’s direction and then returns his attention back to me. “May I call you Carina?” At my nod, he continues, “I will not force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Carina. However, I believe it’s beneficial to you to follow my lead because there are some injuries which are internal and can’t be detected without certain medical knowledge.”
