“I’ve got this,” I tell her. “Check in on us later.”
She nods and leaves me alone with Abella. I kick off my shoes and strip off my suit, tossing it onto the chair before I round the bed and climb in behind her.
When I press my body against hers and wrap her in my arms, she stirs, glancing up at me with watery eyes. Her face is red and her eyelids are puffy, which is a good indication she’s been crying. It only makes me feel worse.
“You might get sick,” she rasps.
“I don’t care. Go back to sleep,dolcezza. I’ll keep you warm.”
She barely has the energy to nod before she falls back to sleep. After a few minutes of absorbing my body heat, her shivering mellows out, and the vise around my ribcage loosens.
I sweep my hands over her back, massaging the tension that’s gathered there. When I bury my face against her hair and breathe her in for the first time in two weeks, it’s like a drug to my system.
I couldn’t let her go right now if I tried.
Settling in for the long haul, I close my eyes as my phone vibrates across the room. I didn’t cancel my meetings, but I don’t care.
Abella sleeps, and I stay with her, checking her temperature and feeding her sips of water throughout the night. When she finally wakes up the next day, she groans as she peels her face off my chest. She turned in her sleep at one point, draping herself over my body and using me as her pillow. She was so comfortable there, I haven’t moved her, but now we’re both hot and sticky.
“Hi.” She blinks up at me with drowsy eyes. “You’re still here.”
“I’m still here.” I smooth some of her wayward hair out of her face. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” she says softly.
I reach over and swipe the water off the nightstand, opening it up before I hand it to her. She takes a long drink and watches me share the same bottle when she’s finished.
“How long did I sleep?” she asks.
“Sixteen hours.”
Her eyes widen as panic sets in. “Oh God, I need to call the office. My clients?—”
“It’s already taken care of,” I assure her. “I had Andrew get in touch with your assistant and clear your schedule for the week. They’ll handle the most pressing concerns.”
“I can’t,” she protests. “I have so much to do.”
“It’s not up for negotiation.” I squeeze her hip. “You need to rest.”
She searches my eyes, and I know she’s wondering if I’m saying it for her sake or the baby she’ll have inside her.
I graze her temple with my lips as my hold on her tightens. “I don’t ever want to see you that sick again, Abella. I don’t fucking like it.”
She nods and relaxes into me, her fingers drawing circles over my chest.
“I’m sorry for what I said to you that night,” she whispers. “You’re nothing like my father. I was just angry, and?—”
“I know.” I tilt her gaze up to mine, so fucking tempted to kiss her.
Before I get the chance, Mariella eases the door open and peeks inside. “Look who’s awake.” She smiles. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better,” Abella tells her. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“I can’t take all the credit.” Mariella glances between the two of us. “Angelo did most of it.”
Abella’s eyes soften as she looks up at me, as if I’m some kind of hero for doing the bare minimum. I hate that she’s been conditioned to expect so little of the men in her life. Her father beat her down and made her feel worthless, and Matteo never lifted a finger to help her.
Then there’s me, a different breed of asshole.
