“You don’t have to bandage me up,” I say.
He looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes of his andsays, “No, but I want to because you’re my wife now, and it’s my duty to take care of you.”
The added smile makes my heart beat faster and faster.
How does he have this effect on me? I don’t understand.
I swallow as he puts down the towel and inspects the wound.
“You’re lucky the glass didn’t slice deep enough for you to require sutures, but it’s definitely a gnarly cut.”
He grabs some bandages and starts rolling them around my hand, covering the wound until it’s no longer visible, and my hand feels warm and protected. But I don’t know if it’s warm from the bandage or from the way he’s touching me right now.
He seals the bandage in place with some tape, then says, “All done.” He puts down the supplies. “Now are you going to tell me why you destroyed your room?”
Matteo
She immediately averts her gaze and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Because …” She pauses for a moment. “I don’t like feeling imprisoned. And if you don’t want me to damage any of your precious stuff, maybe you shouldn’t have locked me up in the first place.”
I smile. “You think I care about any of that stuff?”
She turns her head again to look at me, her beautifuleyes so deep I could nearly drown in them.
“I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” I place my hand on top of hers.
She swallows, still upset. “Whatever. I just knocked over some items, that’s all.”
But she’s obviously still shaken, and I can tell.
“I could hear you downstairs, Tesoro.”
Her eyes widen.
“Why else do you think I came upstairs?” I tip her chin to make her look at me. “I’m worried about you.”
“You shouldn’t be,” she says. “I’m perfectly fine taking care of myself, thank you.”
I snort. “Ah, so that’s what you were doing with Lucio?Taking care of yourself.”
She frowns. “Don’t bring him into this.”
“How can I not when he’s the entire reason you’re here in the first place?” She rolls her eyes. “Both of you just want me like some goddamn pet. Don’t pretend you suddenly care about me.” She jerks free from my grip.
“I never said I didn’t,” I reply.
“We’re only married on paper,” she says. “It’s not real.”
“This marriage isveryreal to me, and I take itveryseriously.”
Her cheeks flush with heat. “Well, no husband would ever consider keeping his wife in her room like a captive.” She folds her arms. “Maybe you should think about that.”
I love her spiciness and how she’s not afraid to speak her mind.
A smirk forms on my face. “I’ll consider it. As long as you stop trying to throw everything around in your room. I don’t want you to hurt yourself any further than this.”
I take a glance at her hand, which she’s tucked into her elbow, like she’s trying to hide herself from me. As if I haven’t already seen just how much of a true beauty she is. Courageous in the face of danger. Proud like a lioness. Perfect for a man like me.
And yet …
