Something inside of me fucking snapped in two. Whatever happened to her in that room haunted her. Whatever Nemours had given to her trapped her inside of the nightmare.
Her nightgown was blood smeared, and I didn’t want her to see. I took her in my arms, picking her up, holding her close. She started to shiver, her legs moving like she was dancing or still trying to swim.
Rocco stopped me before I made it to the bungalow. He made a similar noise to the one I kept down in my chest when he saw her.
“How is she?”
“The doctor.” Even through the husk, my voice snapped.
“He will meet us in the central building.”
I brought her inside of the bungalow. Violet paced the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks, her fingers twisting. “I didn’t even feel her!” she wailed.
Scarlett flinched in my arms.
“Shh,” I said, pulling her closer.
I had Violet get her a new nightgown, and I undressed her, throwing the blue one to the floor with a wet plop. It had been a struggle to get her undressed before; she kept hissing at me, telling me to stay back. This time, she sighed when I touched her, and whatever I instructed her to do, she did.
Covering her in a blanket, I told Violet to grab her bag and her camera—I couldn’t forget her camera, or I’d have hell to pay. The thought of her and that damn camera made me want to rip the heart out of someone’s chest with my teeth. I had always raged against emotions, especially when they were so close to rising to the surface.
After Violet collected her bag with the camera, she promised to take care of it and then left.
I changed into a dry shirt and pants, another suit—not that it mattered that much. Rain beat against us as I pushed my stride toward the main building.
“Are we running?” She looked up at me with eyes that were so far away that I almost wanted to squeeze her to my chest so I could somehow absorb her and then find her, bringing her back to me.
“No. We don’t need to run. We’re safe.”
“Are you taking me to him?”
“Who, baby?”
“My husband.”
I am your husband!I wanted to shout.
“Yeah. He’s upset. He said he needs you to remember him.”
She giggled drunkenly. “He’ssosilly. Of course I remember him! But I feel ashamed. Perhaps you shouldn’t bring me to him. Not yet.” Her skin was pale, almost translucent, and with her blush, her cheeks turned a scalding hot red.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I don’t know,” she practically sang out. Her hands slid up my chest, trembling over my lips. “The thing is. If my husband found out how I felt about you, he’d kill you. I’m allhis. And I thinkyouare beautiful. One of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen. You’re built perfectly too. Iwantyou. Your hands on me…” She moaned.
I stopped walking, studying her. She lowered her lids, the green darkened to almost black, her mouth parted as she exhaled. Her hands slipped lower, sliding underneath the waist of my pants.
“Wow,” she breathed. “Italianstallion.”
Then she tried to climb up my shoulders to put her mouth on mine. I could taste anise and a tinge of blood from her head—my heart beat quicker when I thought of what the rock could have done to her. But she was awake, and I wanted to keep her that way until the doctor checked her out.
My wife was all hands and mouth, and I was having a hard time controlling her. “No” meant nothing to her. She was so nimble, so able. Being a dancer made her more than flexible. She was like a little spider monkey. Having no choice but to keep walking, I allowed her to continue the attack. The entire time she made noises usually reserved for our bedroom.
The men in the suite became quiet when we entered. She had somehow become attached to my front, arms around my neck, legs around my waist, and she was sucking on my neck,mmmming with enough bass to make my pulse vibrate if it would’ve stopped on its own.
“Il dottore!”The doctor!I snapped when all they could do was stare.
I took her into the bedroom, shutting the door in their faces, and as gently as possible, set her down on the bed, maneuvering out of her hold.
