Page 51 of Claimed By the Silver Fox

He nods. “Alright,” he concedes. “But only if you let me run you a bath afterward, hmm?”

I grin at him, tipping my head to the side. “You drive a hard bargain, but I guess I can see my way to that.”

“Good,” he murmurs.

And to my surprise, he catches my face in his hands once more, and brushes his lips against me. Just the barest little kiss, but one that speaks to the depths that he has missed me. I know he has a hard time putting all of this into words, but right now I don’t need him to.

I just need him here, with me, letting me take care of him, letting him take care of me.

And everything that comes after this can wait.

For now.

26

ANTONIO

I watch as Julia carefully wraps the dressing around my arm, her brow slightly furrowed and her tongue caught between her teeth. I can’t help but smile as I observe her. She has such a delicate nature, apologizing every time she brushes me too hard and I wince. I can already picture her tending to a child the same way, talking them through every moment until they are healed.

“You’re pretty good at that,” I remark as she ties off the bandage, making sure that the wound is entirely covered. It still hurts, but it stings a hell of a lot less now that she’s the one fixing me up.

“I had to take a first aid course when I was working as a waitress,” she explains. “I guess I still have some of it memorized. Never was good at carrying trays of drinks without spilling them, but I could put on a mean bandage if it came down to it.”

I flex my fingers, moving my arm this way and that, making certain that the covering will hold. When I’m certain it will, I turn my attention to her. “Your turn.”

“Right.” She draws her knees up to her chest, glancing at the enormous bathtub beside me.

I hadn’t thought much of it when I picked out this place, just looking for the closest apartment I could stay in that would allow me to keep my location under wraps, but now I’m glad I have somewhere I can take my time to tend to her. Even if she won’t eat, I want to check her over, make sure that she’s uninjured. She told me that Andreo didn’t do anything to her, but I’m not sure I’ll believe it until I see it with my own two eyes.

Shit. Andreo. Even the thought of him sends a rush of grief and guilt through my chest. He made me choose, trying to force my hand so that I took her out. I was all but certain he was lying to me when he told me that things would be different, that he would work with me, that with Salamanca on his side he would be able to put right everything he had broken. But there is still a part of me, a part of me I’m not sure I’ll be able to shake that easily, that fears that I will never stop wondering if it might have been true.

I rise to my feet and start running the bath, the room soon filling with steam, and I can feel Julia looking up at me, probably trying to work out what’s going on inside my head. I don’t want to tell her. I can tell she’s already ridden with guilt—the way she apologized was proof enough of that.

Once the bath is full, I help her undress, taking my time to strip her out of her clothes. I have to admit, it’s hard not to notice the way her body looks, the soft curves beneath her skin, how much my hands itch to feel more of her. I know I should be keeping my hands to myself, but it feels impossible as I pull the dress from her shoulders, the delicate way her hair falls over her collarbone.

But I push it aside, and offer her a hand to help her in. My gaze lingers on her belly for a moment, though I doubt there’s anything there to see. She’s so early on, I can’t make out even the barest shape of a bump, but I know our child is in there—a thought which spirals within me, almost more than I can make sense of.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, as she reclines in the water in front of me. Beneath the shimmering surface, she almost looks like a nymph, something plucked straight from a myth. It’s the strangest thing, having her here in front of me, when I thought I might never get the chance again.

I reach for a cup on the side of the bath and use it to wet her hair, picking up a shampoo bottle and pouring a generous amount into my hands. She closes her eyes as I reach up to work it into her hair, taking my time, the herbal scent drifting through the steam.

She leans into me, slowly letting the tension leak from her, and I gently work my hand down to her shoulders, using the suds to massage her muscles. I can feel the weight she’s carrying there, and it pains me to think that she was so fearful, so scared of what was going to happen when it came down to it. Andreo threatened her with so much that clearly petrified her, and I hate the idea that she believed him, even for a moment.

I carefully rinse the shampoo from her hair, cupping my hand around her head to make sure none of it gets onto her face. The water courses down her back, tracing out the shape of her, and I can’t help but let my fingers trail down the same spot, marking out the line of her spine beneath her skin.

She lets out a slight sigh as I cup my hand around her back, and she flicks her gaze to mine—this time, the exhaustion seems to have eased slightly, and there’s a flicker of something else, something else entirely, in the way she looks at me.

“Your hands feel good,” she murmurs to me.

Carefully, I let one hand stray toward her front, and she leans back, extending her legs beneath the water as my thumb caresses over her breast. Her nipple swells at my touch, and the water ripples with movement. Her legs part slightly, and I can see it as the invitation it’s intended as, the promise of how much she wants me.

“Where do you want me?” I ask her softly.

I need her calling the shots here. She’s the one who has been through hell, and I’m not going to push her past the point of what she can handle. I want her, of course I want her—some primal part of me, deep inside, wants to claim her all over again, make sure she knows that she still belongs to me, but I have to play it by ear.

She slides her hand over mine and, meeting my gaze, drags it down her body—over her breast, across her belly, and down to her mound.

“Here,” she whispers, her voice a little shaky.