"Interesting," he murmurs.
I shove off his chest. Stand up so fast I nearly trip over my own feet. The dildo is still clutched in my hand like a weapon.
"Don't." My voice shakes. I hate that it shakes. "Don't touch my things."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"I mean it, Dante."
"I heard you."
"Then act like it."
I back toward the door. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. My skin feels too tight. Too hot.
Dante watches me go. That smirk still playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Eat your soup," I manage. "It's getting cold."
I don't wait for his response.
I'm out the door and down the hall before he can say another word. The dildo is still in my hand. I shove it into the bathroom cabinet and slam the door shut.
Then I grip the sink and stare at my reflection.
My cheeks are flushed. My eyes are too bright. My lips are parted like I'm waiting for something.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I stayed.
He gave me the chance to leave and Istayed.
One second. That's all it was. One second of hesitation.
But we both know what it meant.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dante
The apartment is quiet when I finally drag myself out of the bedroom.
Every step costs me. The wound in my side screams with each movement. Dr. Marchetti would have my head if he knew I was walking around like this.
But I can't stay in that bed another minute.
The living room is dim. Blue light flickers from the television. Some cooking show plays on mute, the host silently chopping vegetables.
Marina is curled up on the couch.
Her eyes are closed. Her breathing is slow. One hand is tucked under her cheek. The other rests on her stomach, fingers slightly curled.
I stand in the doorway and watch her.
There she is.
The thought comes unbidden. The same thought I've had a thousand times over the past two years. Every time I checked herlocation. Every time I drove past her building. Every time I told myself I was just making sure she was safe.
