I know from checking on her this morning that her entire thigh is mottled black and blue, the flesh from the branding raw and angry. She was dead to the world when I went in at four a.m., not even stirring at my presence. And here I thought being a mafia princess with very real threats on her life would have her sleeping with one eye open. Though I’m sure her catatonic state had more to do with the amount of whiskey she consumed the night before.
“Whois that?” Chase asks.
“A pain in my ass,” I reply with a bite, something stirring low in my gut, knowing he’s seeing her how every man in a fifty-mile radius would see her.
Fucking gorgeous.
Chase whistles low, “They don’t look like that round here.”
“She’s off limits,” I snap and turn my eyes to him, pinning him to the spot.
He holds his hands up, “Hey now,” He chuckles, “Don’t need to piss on her, just saying.”
My fingers find the bridge of my nose, “I’mnot — it’s not like that. She is just off limits, okay?”
“So? You’re not fucking her, got it?” He grins.
“Chase,” I warn.
“I hear ya, boss,” He begins to walk backwards, keeping his eyes on Elena, “Loud and clear.”
When he’s far enough away, he turns and starts heading to the stables to find Sal so we can get ready to move this bull. I turn back to Elena, finding her leaning forward on the railing, her head cocked as she watches me. No, watching isn’t the right word. She analyzes, scrutinizes, I feel it in every step I take toward her, her grey eyes rolling over me as if she’s trying to read words on my skin I cannot see.
“Do you ever smile, cowboy?” She asks me when I’m close enough. Judge’s tail hits the deck at a rhythmic pace as he wags it. I reach between his ears and scratch in greeting.
Not in a long time, “When there’s something to smile about.”
“I need clothes.”
“Mmhmm,” I agree, my eyes lingering on her legs.
“If I’m supposed to work, I need clothes,” She repeats.
“Heard you the first time.” I move into the house, forcing my head to remain forward so I don’t look back. I just know the t-shirt would haveridden up enough to show her ass. “How’s the leg?”
“Like I got shot and burned in the same day,” She follows behind me.
“And the ribs?”
“Broken.”
I huff a humorless laugh and grab the keys to my truck. “Go into town. There’s a small boutique and a thrift store; you’ll find something in there.”
Her lip curls, and she ignores the offered keys. “Did you forget I’m in hiding?”
“I don’t have time to run around after you, De Luca.”
“Who’s your friend?” She asks, “He looked willing to help.”
My fingers curl around the keys, tightening until the edge of them bite into my palms. “He doesn’t have time either.”
“I think he’ll make time,” She flutters those long dark lashes and sips on her coffee.
In my head, I count to three, hoping it’ll provide me the patience I need to handle this fucking woman, but when I reach for the drawer handle, I yank it open so hard everything within rattles. I snatch out the notepad with a pen and toss it onto the table.
“Write down your sizes. I’ll go when I’m nextin town.”
“And when will that be?” She starts to write, her handwriting surprisingly delicate and elegant.
