“She’s not interested in jumping. She just likes to look.”
I exhale. “I can’t believe you’ve been taking care of her.”
His arms tighten. “I’ve been taking care of you too.”
I roll, pressing my lips to his chest. “You said I could do that in the ambulance… and then?—”
“Take care of me now.” He smirks, stretching, all lazy satisfaction. “I’m exhausted. Haven’t had a home-cooked meal since you left my mansion. Haven’t had anyone to massage me. Haven’t been complimented.” His expression is so solemn I almost believe him.
I arch a brow. “Poor baby.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “You have options.”
“Oh, I’m considering throwing you out that window first.”
He laughs—a real one—then pulls me in, kissing me slow, his lips moving against mine. As he pulls away, his gaze flickers to my temple where I know the scar rests, resembling shattered glass pieced back together. I try to cover it, but he reaches out, brushing his lips across it.
“I’ll kiss the one on the back of your head too.” His mouth trails lower, finding the faded scar on my neck. “And this mystery one.”
I shiver. “I was being stupid.”
He lifts a brow.
“Tried to jump a fence, didn’t notice the pile of wood. Took a nail to the neck. Looked worse than it was.”
I drag my fingers over a light scar on his side. “This?”
“Emilia stabbed me,” he says with a shrug.
I look up at him in horror. He rolls his eyes. “It was barely a flesh wound. It was a warning not to go into her roomunannounced. The guy she was making out with nearly peed himself.”
“You have such a weird family,” I grumble.
He lifts my chin, his eyes searching mine. His fingers are so gentle on my jaw that I want to piss him off just so he’s rough with me. He feeds me another slow kiss. “I hate you, Luisa.”
I smirk. “Is that why you yelled at the doctor? You want me alive so you can kill me yourself?”
His jaw flexes. “I’m the only one allowed to do it.”
“To kill me?”
“To kiss you.” His grip tightens. “To touch you.”
His voice drops. “To fucking ruin you.”
I drag my nails over his stomach, watching his abs twitch. “I never agreed to that.”
“Get used to it.”
He rolls me beneath him, pinning me with his weight. His eyes are dark, blazing, feral.
“Because I hate you, and I’m going to make sure no one else gets to hate you the way I do.”
I swallow. Blink up at him.
I blink at him, then swallow. “I hate you more. I trace my lips over his jaw. I hated you first.”
“Is that a fact?” He snarls.
