"When?"
She winks. "Our fiftieth anniversary?"
I huff a laugh. "At this rate, I’ll be lucky if we make it to next week."
"Optimism, Marito.It’s good for the heart."
She leans back, closing her eyes for a second, and I can’t help the small, traitorous thought that crosses my mind, how she looks like she belongs anywhere, even in this rundown room that makes my skin itch.
"Yeah," I murmur, more to myself than to her. "So are you."
She looks up, and our eyes meet. Something unspoken passes, something that makes the air sizzle with electricity. I take an involuntary step forward, ready to take her into my arms and kiss her senseless, but the paleness of her face stops me. She’s only a few days out of the hospital. She needs time, not me dragging her into my bed like a starving man.You didn’t seem to care about that yesterday,my conscience whispers, and I grind my teeth.
I made her bleed. The memory tastes like guilt. My chest tightens. I made her bleed because I couldn’t slow down.Bravo, Romeo. Try not to break the woman you… whatever-the-hell-this-is.
From my bag, I pull a bottle of prescription painkillers and a water bottle. Dispensing three pills into the palm of my hand, I hold them out to her, shaking the water bottle for good measure. "Take these, you’ll hate me for twenty minutes and sleep for hours."
She arches a brow. "Drugging me now, Conti?"
"Something like that."
"You better not take advantage while I'm out."
I smirk. "Is that an invitation?"
"You wish." Her voice is smooth as a blade, but something in her eyes gives her away—heat, defiance, the same damn fire that’s been eating at me since the first time she opened her mouth.
"You’re gonna take a nap too?" she asks, tilting her head, still suspicious but already reaching for the pills.
I shake my head. "I’m gonna find us some food. Maybe see if anyone in this charming town knows where a certain Mexican Cartel likes to play hide-and-seek."
She swallows the pills, gives me the smallest nod, and lets the fight drain out of her bones. She yawns, leaning back against the headboard. "Be careful with the food. We don’t want to catch Montezuma’s revenge."
I frown. "Monte—what now?"
She grins without opening her eyes. "Stomach bug. Hurling and the shits, the whole nine yards. It’s in the water. And the food."
I roll my eyes. "Charming. And you call me spoiled. Bias much?"
"No," she says, settling deeper into the pillow. "Just a sensitive stomach."
Unable to resist, I poke, "That must be the only sensitive part about you."
Her eyes open, gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I have others."
And just like that, if my cock could groan, it would.Damn woman.
She takes another sip from the bottle. "Go play spy, Marito.Try not to get poisoned."
All I can picture are those lips closed around my cock instead of the bottleneck. Fuck she's getting under my skin.
"Try not to burn down the bed while I’m gone," I warn, not liking how hoarse my voice is.
Her eyes are already closing, that smirk still curved against the pillow. "No promises."
I stand there for a second longer, watching her breathe, the rise and fall steady and human. The wordwifeslides around my chest again, stubborn and dangerous. I tug off her boots, slide her pants free, and pull the sheet up. She’s already drifting when I kiss her forehead.
"Asleep, you look…" The words that arrive are ones I don’t want to say out loud:fragile, beautiful, my wife… "…human," I finish, quietly.
