“Do you have a first-aid kit?” I ask.
“Oh, Bella …” With his good hand, he touches my face. Looks intensely into my eyes. “I just need to look at you. To feel you. To know you’re safe. If anything had happened to you …” He shudders. “You’re everything to me.Everything. I know you need time?—”
“I don’t,” I cut in, tears pricking my eyes. “It was a lie … or a way to try and stay sane. But I don’t want to be sane, Alex, not if it means leaving you. Or– you leaving me”
He leans in. Crushes his lips against me. I moan and smooth my hand to his shoulder. Then I move away, and gesture stubbornly at his arm.
“We need to patch you up, Alex.”
“I need to make some calls,” he grunts. “Gather my troops. End this so I can start the next chapter.” He looks at me with almost boyish hopefulness. “With you.”
I swallow. “One thing at a time.”
We climb out of the car. He takes my hand and guides me through his house. “First-aid kit is under the sink,” he says. “We’ll take it to my study.”
We walk through the villa together. I’ve got the first-aid kit in one hand and my other is curled around his, holding tightly. Desperately. Never wanting to let go.
There’s nothing like a near-death experience to hammer home what’s really important.
I tear off his bloody shirt. Open the first-aid kit. The bleeding has stopped and the bullet seems to have grazed him.
“A flesh wound,” he grunts, nodding. “No big deal.”
“I still need to bandage it.”
He smiles almost softly. “Where did you learn to do this?”
“My Grandma was a nurse,” I tell him. “And an artist. And a traveler.”
“A woman of many talents. I wish I could’ve met her.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
He picks up his phone. I begin cleaning his wound. Alex barks down the phone, “Russians came for me here. Targeted my woman. Call in the troops. Clear the entire village and handle the local cops. This war ends within the goddamn week—then I’m out. My involvement is over. I’ve found a new meaning to my life now. Something more than blood and bullets and bribes.”
He looks at me. Dark eyes glistening with meaning. With hunger. With love.
Once he’s bandaged and his calls are done, I fold my arms. “What are you, Alex?” I demand. Wondering if it will change anything. Knowing it won’t.
“A mob boss,” he grunts. “The East Coast Italian mafia. I’ve spent most of my adult life leading the mob. Trying to make it better one percent at a time. Trying to make it less vicious. Less evil. And I’ve succeeded. That’s why I’m here. I wanted out of the life. But I couldn’t get all the way out. I was half in, still running things from overseas … until you, Bella.”
I swallow. Emotion grips me, making my throat tight.
“One afternoon watching you turn this vineyard into a work of art was enough. I know. In my heart. In my bones. In my goddamned soul—something I didn’t even know Ihad–until you. You’ve changed me.”
I gently take his face in my hands, feel the light silver stubble against my palm. Tears sting my eyes. A sob makes it difficult to speak.
“I know those men never would’ve targeted you if it wasn’t for me,” he says huskily. “But I’llneverlet anything happen to you. Nobody is going to hurt you. To touch you. Dare to disrespect you. Not now and not ever. You’re mine, Bella. Your smile. Yourtalent. Your optimism. Your curves. Your … everything. And I’m yours.”
He rests his forehead against mine, breathing hard.
“I’myours,” he repeats. “My past, my present, my future. You belong to me and I belong to you.”
“And you’re leaving this life now?” I ask, my voice catching in my throat.
“Forever. Yes, I don’t need it anymore. I haven’t needed it since you came along. Stay with me, Bella. While I make my calls. While I cut my cords, untie my connections. While I build myself a raft big enough for the both of us. Just—just stay with me.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, Alex. I’ll stay.”
