It’s disappointing, even though I should be grateful we’re back on track because it’s late and I need to sleep.
“I’m fine. It didn’t knock me out or anything. Pretty sure that means I don’t have a traumatic brain injury.” Angelo scowls at my flippant tone, but his shoulders relax.
“Maybe not, but I’ll have to keep a close eye on you. Just in case.” Does that mean he plans to lie next to me all night, watching for signs of a concussion? I gulp.
“Where’s Fina?” I ask, remembering she wasn’t with us in the car.
“She left the party before us.” He rubs more ointment onto my neck. It smells minty. Not unpleasant. “Matteo said she wasn’t feeling well, so they decided to stay in the city tonight.”
Now that I’m less drunk, I remember Fina’s secret.Fuck. I hope the baby is okay. I bite my lip as I debate saying something to Angelo, but it’s not my place to reveal Fina’s secret. If she’s not okay, Matteo will make sure she sees a doctor. And now Santini is dead, RIP. At least that’s one weight off her shoulders.
Not that Lorenzo will be thrilled when he finds out, but we can worry about that tomorrow, or whenever.
“Kane?” I ask hopefully.
Angelo scowls again. “Not here.” He seems annoyed that I’m asking where Kane is.Oops. There’s that nasty jealous streak rearing its head again. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“I don’t like sleeping alone.” I pout.
“Good job I’m here then, isn’t it,” he snaps before lifting me off the counter. He stalks back into the bedroom. A minute later, he returns with a clean tee shirt. “You can sleep in this tonight.”
When I don’t move, he raises an eyebrow. “Need some help getting undressed, princess?”
“Are you offering?” My voice comes out husky. It sounds more like an invitation than an innocent question.
“Would youletme help you?” He smirks.
Since the thought of Angelo stripping me naked threatens to obliterate my self-control, I do the only sensible thing I can think of: slam the door shut in his face.
When I finally summon the courage to leave the bathroom, the bedroom is empty. There’s a lamp on next to the bed but no sign of Angelo. I exhale a shaky sigh of relief and debate whether I should head back to my room now I’ve sobered up.
Luka will probably panic if he wakes and I’m not there.
But before I can escape, the bedroom door opens and Angelo walks back in with a tall glass of water and some pills.
“Drink this and take these,” he orders. “Otherwise, you’ll be dying in the morning.”
Great.He’s back to his bossy, controlling self. But because my head hurts and I ache all over, I do as I’m told.
“Now get into bed.”
“I should go back to my room,” I hedge, taking a step toward the door.
“No.”
My temper flares in indignation. “You’re not the boss of me!”
“No, but I am your husband, and you need monitoring after a head injury,” he snaps. “So for once in your fucking life, do as you’re fucking told!”
I bristle before huffing loudly. He has a point. Luka sleeps like the dead, so I could easily suffer a fatal seizure in the night and he’d have no clue.
“Ugh, fine!” Before he can harass me any further, I stomp over to the bed and crawl under the covers. The mattress is firm but not too hard, and the sheets smell of laundry detergent and Angelo’s spicy scent.
Once he sees I’m done fighting him, he ducks into the bathroom and a few seconds later, the shower turns on. It occurs to me this is my chance to do a runner, but my energy levels have hit zero, so I close my eyes and get comfortable.
Just as I’m nodding off, he emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of fragrant steam. Unfortunately for me, I make the mistake of opening my eyes, only to see him drop his towel before grabbing a clean pair of boxers from a tall chest of drawers.
Immediately, all thoughts of sleep go out of the window.
