I tip my head back to meet his gaze. “That’s what this was about? They were after me?”
He nods, and I release a shuddering breath as I realize that he did all of this…because of me.
“Romeo, I?—”
“Hey, loverboy.” Mariella glances between the two of us. “Sorry to interrupt the moment, but you need medical attention, and I have to get to bed. So where do you want me to patch you up?”
Romeo’s grip on me tightens, and I suspect he’s going to tell her not to worry about it. So I take matters into my own hands and answer for him.
“Can you do it in his wing?”
She gives me an approving nod as she lifts the bag in her hand. “I’ll get set up.”
She leaves us, and Romeo lingers like he wants to say something, but it will have to wait. I’ve been stressing about his injury all night, and I need Mariella’s assurance that he’s really okay.
I pull away from him and tug on his hand, dragging him along with me. “Come on.”
He doesn’t resist, and I don’t let go.
Beppe follows us through the house, and once we reach his wing, we find Mariella utilizing the private kitchen as her improvised medical station.
“Have a seat there.” She points at the stool at the end of the island.
Romeo hesitates, his hand tightening reflexively around mine. I give him a gentle squeeze and pull away.
He takes a seat, but tracks me with his gaze as I grab a bottle of water from the fridge. I slide it toward him as Mariella tells him to remove his shirt.
He tosses it onto the counter, and I swallow, trying not to stare. It’s been far too long since I’ve felt him, but I can’t let my mind go there right now.
“Are you hungry?” I ask. “Do you want anything else?”
He shakes his head, so I return to his side, wrapping my hand around his uninjured arm. As Mariella examines his wound, he turns to face me, and I lose myself in the depths of his eyes. This morning, they’re warm like honey shot through with gold and heavy with unspoken emotion.
“Just a graze,” Mariella confirms. “I’ll need to stitch you up. I take it you don’t want me to numb you?”
“No.” Romeo grunts. “Let’s just get it over with.”
She gets to work cleaning his arm before she starts stitching him. He doesn’t flinch, even when I’m squeezing his arm a little too tight without realizing it.
“I take it you’ll want a shower?” Mariella asks.
Romeo nods.
“Okay. I’ll apply a waterproof bandage, but you’ll need to change it afterward.” She glances up, pointing to the gauze. “Gabi, you can make sure he puts that on after his shower?”
“I will,” I assure her.
Her eyes dart between us, and she arches a brow at me in question. I give her a look, letting her know I’ll explain later.
“Alright.” She packs up her things. “I have a bed waiting for me.”
“Thank you, Mariella,” Romeo responds gruffly.
“Get some rest,” she tells us. “I’ll check on you tomorrow when I get home from the office.”
I thank her as she leaves, and before Romeo can say anything, I stop him.
“You should get cleaned up, and then we can talk.”
