“I’m right here. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Luca’s fierce promise rumbled over me, blanketing me in comfort.
I released a shuddering sigh and relaxed into the darkness.
A hard chest braced my back, and strong arms surrounded me. Fear flickered through my hazy mind, sparking an instinct to struggle my way free from captivity. I twisted in the firm, masculine grip, and pain jolted through my body. My fear became a copper tang on my tongue as my teeth cut my cheek.
The arms firmed around me, trapping me.
“You’re okay, Nora. It’s me. Calm down.”
At the sound of his deep, rumbling command, all the fight instantly drained out of me.
“Dante?” My voice was strangely slurred, and my eyelids were so heavy.
I blinked slowly and found my terrifying, beautiful husband staring into my soul. His emerald eyes were keen enough to cut, but the intensity that’d once terrified me now brought me comfort. No one would hurt me while I was in his arms.
He held me on his bed, his back propped against the headboard. Everything around him was blurry; he was all I could see. Dante filled my vision, and I clung to the only solid thing in my world.
My fingers flexed into his black cotton shirt. Beneath the soft material, I felt thick bandages.
Memories churned like dark, turbulent waters.
He’d been shot when he’d saved me during the Russian ambush. He’d taken a bullet for me.
And then the Russians…
“You need to eat, darling.” Dante’s low murmur grounded me to him, keeping me anchored in the present.
I didn’t want to face the darkness that lurked just beneath the surface of the haze that blanketed my mind. I leaned into his body, reassured by his heat and the strength in his corded muscles.
He shifted, picking up something from a tray on the nightstand. A rich, comforting scent of honey and cinnamon suffused my senses, and he lifted a spoon to my lips.
I turned my face away, gut tightening with reflexive anger.
More memories surged: Dante, feeding me from his hand. Forcing me to eat. Humiliating me.
“Nora.” My name was a deep rebuke. “Don’t be difficult.”
Difficult. He was stripping away all my control, debasing me. And he expected me to meekly acquiesce to his insane demands.
“No.” My refusal was slow and slurred. I swallowed and tried again. “You can’t make me. I won’t.”
His thunderous frown shuddered through my body like a visceral wave of disapproval, but I tipped my chin back and held my ground.
Pain was coming. He would spank me for my defiance.
But I already hurt so much, every inch of my body aching in protest as I struggled for lucidity.
His low curse knifed through my mind, but he handled me with aching care as he shifted me off his lap.
“You do it,” he bit out. “Take care of her.”
Even the gentle movements made the deep ache between my thighs flare. The pain where the Russians had…
“I’ve got you,” my husband promised, pulling me into his arms. “You’re safe.”
“Luca?” His name was little more than a whimper of relief.
“I’m right here,” he reassured me, his big hands skimming over my body to soothe me.
