“Damiano, say something.”
“That was a disaster from start to finish.”
Lucy nods in somber agreement. She takes the glass from me and swallows a pensive sip. “Being ambushed like that was terrible timing. Vincenzo is going to have difficulty believing we had nothing to do with this. Cristiano is going to be suspicious. He already doesn’t trust us. But Rafiel has known us for years. Surely he won’t believe that you knowingly risked putting me in the path of a Sokoli bullet for the sake of killing men who would be better off as our allies. Let’s reach out to him first when the dust settles.”
Lucy’s talking about tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. About salvaging the alliance we just formed, but I’m still trapped in the back of that car, watching Antonio struggle to stay conscious.
Blood drips down my arm and splashes on the tiles.
Lucy puts the glass down and gently takes my hand. “Damiano, you’re bleeding worse than ever. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I let her tug me along the hall and into the downstairs bathroom, where she sits me on an upholstered chair next to the sink and pulls a first aid kit from the lower cabinet. Kneeling before me, she cleans and applies antiseptic to my wound. Hertouch is tender. She’s the only person in the world who cares about me. Who truly loves me.
Like a wife.
I take a ragged breath as my eyes rove over her beautiful face. “Why do you keep letting me do this to you?”
“Do what?” she asks, smoothing antiseptic cream across my cut with a pinkie finger.
“Putting you in danger.”
“I don’t let you do anything, you silly man. I choose things for myself, and don’t you dare panic and change your mind about us now.”
“I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to you. If you get hurt by the Sokolis, if Dad finds out that we’re not related like we’ve been pretending to be, he’ll do something terrible. We can’t—”
Lucy stops my words with a kiss. “Stop catastrophizing, Damiano. Do you want me or not? Do you love me with your whole heart?”
The scent of gunpowder and blood clings to us, and the vodka burns in my belly. “Of course I do. To the ends of the earth.”
I wince as the antiseptic stings my wound. Lucy notices my breathing change, and she caresses my cheek apologetically. “I’m sorry I’m hurting you. I’m nearly finished.”
“You could drive hot spikes under my nails, and I’d say thank you, my love.”
She smiles, wrapping a bandage around my forearm and securing it firmly. Then she sits back on her heels with her hands on my thighs, gazing up at me. “I know it was difficult for you to take me with you tonight. I know you’re afraid for me, but I worry about you just as much. Remember, this is what I want. To be by your side and die by your side if it comes to that.”
“Do not speak of dying,” I order her sharply, seizing her shoulders.
“I’m not afraid of anything when I’m by your side.”
“Well, I’m fucking terrified of losing you.”
“Walking into that room on your arm tonight, as your equal, I felt prouder than I ever have in my life. Closer to you than I have in our whole lives. Proud, and powerful as well. I’m not letting anything come between us. Not fire. Not bullets. Not anything.”
I take her face in my hands with a groan and press my forehead to hers. She’s so fierce that I can’t help but love her.
We just survived another ambush. Antonio is fighting for his life in surgery. The alliances I tried to build tonight have already crumbled. Francesco no doubt has already called Dad. Dad is going to rage at us for what we’ve done.
But none of that matters right now. Not when she’s looking at me like this.
“The whole world can go to hell. You and me. That’s all that matters.”
I tilt her chin up and press my lips to hers. Lucy kisses me back and deepens the kiss. Her hands caress my chest and slide down my body.
“We can have whatever we want,” she whispers, unthreading my belt.
My heart is pounding again, but for a very different reason. With gentle hands, she pushes me so I’m sitting back in the chair, and she pulls out my rapidly hardening cock. Her slender fingers, with their wine-red nails, stroke my girth, the veins standing out along my length. She always makes me feel loved. Always makes me feel desired. I cup her cheek and caress her softness.
She’s just the same as she was the first day I found her. Fierce and beautiful, huddled on the edge of life-ending consequences. She didn’t see the danger she was in that day, and she still won’t see it now. Is it my curse, always to sense the danger around us while she shrugs it off?
