13. Reunited
thirteen
Reunited
Grace woke up in a brightly lit space, disoriented and frightened. The fluorescent overhead light made it hard to clear her vision. The headache didn’t help, either. Come to think of it, she thought she remembered having had one of those earlier, too. It took a moment for her to register the beeping at her side, but almost as soon as she did, it came to feel like a punctuation to the unsettled feeling inside her.
When she went to sit up, she realized she was attached to things. She had an IV taped to one arm, and her other wrist sported a pristine white bandage of its own. Somehow worse than that, a breathing tube was stuck in her nose.
A hospital… She was in a hospital.
Memories rushed her in the wake of the realization. The accident, the trunk, kicking out a brake light, flagging down help. The policemen pulling her out. The paramedics stitching up her wrist. The look of abject horror on the male paramedic’s face when Grace had mentioned the De Salvo name—which she had only done when prompted to give them information about herself. Things like where she worked and who her emergency contacts might be.
She could reflect on the strange reaction later, though. She was more concerned with where, exactly, she was, and why she’d lost consciousness.
A person in nursing scrubs stepped into the room. They were tall and lean, with long, braided hair and shimmery makeup that matched their long, fake nails. “Oh, you’re awake!” The nurse smiled and came closer, glancing up at the obnoxious machines as they moved. “How’s your pain, honey?”
Grace swallowed, searching for her voice. “Where am I?” Her voice cracked a little, but she got the words out.
The nurse’s smile faltered. “Saint Michael’s Medical Center,” they said. “You were unconscious when you got here, apparently you passed out in the ambulance.” They patted her shoulder. “Why don’t I call the doctor to go over everything with you, okay? I’ll bring you something for the pain, too.”
Grace opened her mouth to ask if she could use a phone, but the nurse was already fast-walking out the door. Tears built behind her eyes. Yes, learning her condition was important. But when was anyone going to let her use a damn phone?
She laid there, irrationally angry and trying hard to ignore the throbbing pain radiating between her head and her arm, for several minutes. Staring at the ceiling and breathing through a nose tube. It was utterly unflattering and she wanted all of it removed. Surely, she did not need a breathing tube, or even an IV. But no one would let her articulate her needs. It made her want to scream.
The sound of alarmed voices carried down the hall, drawing her attention. Grace tensed and her heartrate monitor ticked up a couple of notches.
Seconds later, a taller, well-built man with straight, jet-black hair pulled back in a low ponytail and rich brown eyes rounded into the room. He wore navy blue jeans over heavy black boots and a black, high-collar sweater. He was immediately intimidating in the way dangerous men were, particularly given her immense vulnerability, but something about him struck her as familiar, too.
In the blink of an eye, his somber expression gave way to a smile that lit up his eyes and softened his whole face. “You probably don’t recognize me, Ms. Mariner,” he said. “I’m Ryōma.” He moved to stand across from her, at the foot of her hospital bed. “I’ll be in charge of your safety until Mr. De Salvo can get out here. He’s dealing with a small situation at Lucia’s school, but I’m sure he’ll be headed this way as soon as that’s handled.”
Just like that, her tension dissolved. She barely held back the tears. “You … work for Romeo?”
He shrugged. “I work for the family. So, yeah.” He motioned with one pointer finger toward the open doorway. “Please don’t be alarmed by those looming shadows. They’re just part of my team. Barring an actual situation, I’m the only one who will be in the room with you.”
Grace nodded, then winced. Ow. Her gaze dropped to the clipboard affixed to the foot of the bed. “I don’t suppose you can tell me what that says about me? Apparently, I passed out in the ambulance….”
Ryōma frowned and dropped to a crouch, almost completely disappearing behind the footboard of the bed. “Deciphering medical mumbo jumbo isn’t really my strong suit,” he said, “but if I’m understanding this stuff right, it looks like you have a mild concussion, a broken toe, and lacerations on your wrist. There’s a note about a concern for infection, not clear why.” He paused and lowered the papers he’d lifted while he was reading, meeting her gaze over the bedframe. “There’s another note about checking with you regarding risk of pregnancy.”
Grace felt her face flush. That wasn’t the sort of thing she wanted to discuss with a man she’d just met. But she was the one who’d asked him to read the paperwork, so she couldn’t very well go blaming him.
“What the hell is this?” an annoyed, unfamiliar male voice said from the doorway.
Ryōma straightened as another man asked for identification.
“What do you mean ID ? I’m the doctor assigned to this patient! You have no business—”
Ryōma stepped up to the doorway. “Hey, doc. Listen, our job is to keep this patient safe, and that means making sure no one slips into this room who shouldn’t be here.” He reached forward as if he were clapping someone on the shoulder. “Good news is, I memorized your picture on the way in.” He moved backward into the room and put his back to the wall at a position where he wasn’t likely to lose sight of her. “Don’t keep your patient waiting now.”
A flustered man probably twice her age sauntered into the room, clipboard under one arm. He shot a glare at Ryōma before shifting his focus to Grace, his expression barely softening. “Mrs. Mariner—”
She frowned. “Grace,” she said. “I’m not yet married, and Mariner is my maiden name.”
He blinked at her. “Yes, well. I hear you’re having some memory concerns.”
Her frown deepened. “I am not. I remember everything up to being in the ambulance. They asked me some basic questions about myself, they stitched me up, and it hurt way more than I expected it would. I think I cried, because I remember being embarrassed and thinking the guy who was riding in the back with me was uncomfortable about it. Then I was waking up here.”
“Sounds like an adrenaline crash,” Ryōma said. “Paired with that ‘mild concussion’, it’s no wonder you blacked out.”
The doctor turned another glare on him. “That is privileged information.”
“I asked him to read it,” Grace said. “I am completely certain that, as the patient, it’s within my right to designate another person to look at my medical information on my behalf.”
“Only when you’re competent yourself,” the doctor returned. He reached out and hooked his fingers around the tube looped under her nose, swiftly tugging the protruding ends from her nostrils and jerking it up and over her head. The motion was rough and dragged against what must have been a bandage, and again Grace winced, suddenly coughing from the change in oxygen flow.
“Oh, would you look at that, doctor’s hours are over,” Ryōma said. He physically spun the doctor around with a hand at the older man’s neck and marched him forcefully back to the doorway. “Thanks for popping in, doc. You were super helpful. Feel free to come back when you’ve gotten that attitude adjusted.” He gave the doctor a good shove and offered a calm finger wave when the doctor turned to glare back at him.
“I ought to have security throw the lot of you out,” the doctor said, his grumbled words barely carrying to her.
Ryōma chuckled low. “I wouldn’t advise that.” He turned, done with the conversation, and moved over to the chair against the far wall. It looked particularly uncomfortable, but still he dropped into it voluntarily, even kicking his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. He watched the doorway until the doctor had stormed out of sight, then shifted his stare to her. “You okay?”
Grace nodded slowly. “Yes.” Her nose felt a little funny, but everything else had been a fleeting discomfort. She scrunched up her lips. “He was unnecessarily rude.”
“So he was.”
They lapsed into silence then and Grace found herself drifting off as her mind wandered. How long would it take Romeo to get to her? Ryōma had mentioned something was wrong with Lucy, or at Lucy’s school. She’d been so overwhelmed with relief at just hearing he knew where she was that she’d barely heard the words initially. But of course his daughter came first. So she needed to brace herself for a long wait. It could be hours still before he made it to her.
She told herself not to worry unless morning came with no sign of him, no word from him.
The nurse from earlier returned at some point, looking a little less comfortable but nonetheless making an effort to go over Grace’s vitals. “And how’s that headache, hun? You want me to get you something to help?”
Grace paused at the question. “It’s … feeling better, I think.” She could still feel a dull ache, but the demanding pain from the trunk and even the throbbing she’d had when she’d first woken up had all faded. She hadn’t realized.
The nurse smiled. “That’s great. I’ll swing by in a little while to check on you again. Don’t be afraid to let yourself sleep if you get drowsy, okay?” With a pat on her shoulder, well away from any sore spot, the nurse departed.
Grace stifled a yawn and closed her eyes, telling herself it was in protest of the overhead light. “Wake me when Romeo gets here….”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ryōma said, his voice quieter than before.
It took Romeo another half an hour to get to the hospital after leaving Dante’s house. Thirty-two more fucking minutes where all he could do was sit in the car and fume about everything that had happened since they’d parted ways earlier that afternoon. Hell, he didn’t even know if Dante had resolved the cloned phone number issue or not. Nor did it matter for the time being.
He spotted the two men standing guard at a closed door marked with the number Ryōma had texted him and adjusted course. Both men straightened their shoulders when he stepped in front of them, one of them immediately reaching for the doorknob.
Romeo motioned for Mo to hang back and squeezed inside as soon as the door was wide enough. He swept his gaze over the room. It was a brightly lit, stereotypical hospital room. Grayish equipment mixed with faintly beige furniture and off-white linens. Ryōma stood swiftly from the sole chair, approaching with only a whisper of a sound, so he could speak quietly. Romeo paid him a partial glance before letting his gaze focus on the sleeping woman in the bed in front of him.
Her dirty blonde hair was obscured by a bandage wrapped around her head, which managed to make the bruise still darkening her jaw only look worse. Did it look worse? His gaze slid down to the equally white bandage covering her wrist from the base of her thumb down about four inches. He didn’t take his eyes off her while he listened to Ryōma’s whispered report, which provided infuriating explanations for the bandages as well as mention of a doctor he wouldn’t mind giving some fresh perspective.
But he wasn’t there for violence.
Romeo inclined his head. “Thank you, Ryōma. Step outside.”
Ryōma nodded. “Sir.”
Romeo carried the ugly chair up to the bed, ripped off his winter coat, and settled in to wait. He wanted her to open her eyes, he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss away her pain, but he wouldn’t disturb her rest. So he would wait, as long as he had to.
He lifted her hand gently up to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m so sorry, angel,” he murmured against her skin.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, watching her sleep, her hand tucked between both of his, before her brow finally furrowed and she moaned softly. A moment later she tensed in his grasp. He rubbed his thumb along her knuckles. “Easy, angel. It’s me. You’re safe.”
Grace blinked her eyes open quickly, the beautiful hazel reflecting greener than usual. She stared at him, almost disbelieving for a moment, and then the tears poured over. “Romeo…” Her hand latched onto his, trembling. “I-I thought I would— I thought I was going to—”
“Shh.” Romeo leaned up, keeping hold of her hand with one while moving his other to gently swipe some of her tears away. “I’m so fucking sorry, angel,” he said quietly, his own voice roughening at the sight of her bubbling emotion. “We’ll be more careful. I swear.” He pressed his lips gently to her cheek. “I’m so goddamn glad you’re all right.”
Grace gasped. “I love you. I don’t know why, with everything else we talked about, I hadn’t said that.”
Romeo eased back, staring into her still watery eyes. Everything she’d just gone through, and that was the first thing she wanted to say? Part of him had been afraid it would be too much and that she’d want to get away. That might even have been the more rational choice. He grunted and leaned close until their noses touched. “Fuck, Grace. I love you, too.” He closed his lips over hers for just a single moment, needing at least a small taste.
The sound she made when he pulled away went straight through him and for a second, he caught himself wondering if he could climb onto the bed without hurting her.
She dragged in a steadying breath and smiled at him, her tears subsiding. “How’s Lucia? I heard something happened. Is she okay?”
Romeo swallowed back a growl. “You’re not allowed to be so goddamn perfect when I can’t show you my appreciation, angel. At least be a little selfish.”
Soft laughter escaped her and she wedged her fingers between his. “Then kiss me again. Kiss me properly.”
He studied her.
She had the nerve to smile at him. “My mouth isn’t injured, you know.”
He chuckled and leaned in again, his words grazing over her lips. “I can’t do the things I want to do to you here in a hospital.” He slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting her, groaning into her as she vibrated beneath him. Then he eased up again.
Grace licked her lips. “Then take me home,” she said. “I don’t want to be here. Ryōma was very helpful, and I had a decent nurse, but the doctor was an ass and I really just want to go home.” Her eyes widened. “I never even made it into the office.”
Romeo pulled in a breath and kissed the tip of her nose. “That wasn’t Dante,” he said quietly. “The whole goddamn thing was a setup.” He gave her hand a squeeze as her eyes widened. “I’ll have someone start your discharge papers, but promise me one thing, angel.”
She nodded.
“If you think you need to see a doctor after all, let me know. We’ve got a couple we can call on, they’ll come to us. I’ll be with you. So if you need it, tell me.”
Her expression softened again. “Then I see no reason to stay. And you can tell me about what happened with Lucia while we wait.”
Grace found herself unexpectedly anxious when they pulled onto the road after finally being released from the hospital. It had taken longer than she’d thought it should, particularly considering the overall warm and welcome treatment she’d received, but paperwork was paperwork she supposed. She tried to tell herself what mattered was that they were going home. She tried to tell herself that they’d be taking main roads and there were three cars between them—the two Romeo had come with, and Ryōma’s team.
It still only took one rocket launcher to ruin everything.
In an effort not to think about the fear she hadn’t prepared herself for and couldn’t afford to succumb to, Grace searched her brain for a safe topic of conversation and blurted the first reasonable question that followed. “How do you want to handle telling Lucia about us? Should I find a hotel for a little while?” That was probably the most respectful thing to do, now that she’d put the notion out there.
She wanted to take the offer back. Not because she didn’t care about his daughter’s feelings or recognize the suddenness of the relationship, but because locking herself up in a random hotel, all alone, felt like the worst thing she could do for herself.
Romeo recaptured her hand, twining his fingers with hers and holding tight as he stared into her eyes. “If you try to book yourself a hotel, or go anywhere else, I will lock you in the bedroom until you come to your senses.”
She gaped at him.
His expression softened. “I’ve always tried to be gently honest with Lucia, where I can. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll talk to her tonight, and if she throws a fit about it, we’ll deal with whatever that looks like when it happens.” He squeezed her hand. “I do know that she likes you already. And I do know…” He trailed off, and she had the sense what he was about to say was a struggle. His tone softened, quieting. “I don’t really know what prompted it, but she told me she ‘wouldn’t mind a mommy.’” He cleared his throat. “Hopefully that’ll make it an easier sell.”
Grace felt as though she couldn’t breathe, fresh tears burning behind her eyes.
Ever since she was a young girl, all she’d wanted was a family. A warm, loving family like she saw on TV and sometimes at a friend’s house. She’d learned quick her own home life would never be that, but she’d clung to that dream for years anyway. So long that it had slowly eroded under the depressing reality of unavoidable failure, disappointment, and loneliness. Even in college, she’d occasionally paused her long nights of studying to stare down at her textbooks and wonder if she was doing the right thing for herself. She wasn’t passionate about business. She was just good at it.
“Grace?”
She dragged in a breath and smiled. “I don’t think you realize what you’re really offering,” she said. At the dramatically raised brow he gave in response, she elaborated. “I know I told you I wanted a family, but I might have undersold it.” She licked her lips, strangely nervous about saying the words out loud.
Romeo’s eyes widened faintly as she spoke, his grip on her hand tightening, and when she finished explaining her childhood dream, he was frowning. “Angel, I think I have a lot of issues with those people you left behind in Massachusetts.” He leaned in, raising her arm simultaneously, and kissed the back of her hand. “Tell me all your dreams. One way or another, I’ll make every single one of them come true.”
They made it back to the house without further incident, and though he knew it was selfish, Romeo allowed himself time to sit with Grace in the quiet. He’d had half a mind to carry her all the way upstairs, but it wasn’t so late as to justify that, so he settled them back on the chaise sofa where they’d been before external demands had—seemingly—pulled them apart. Except this time he nestled her fully in his lap.
“I probably look a mess,” Grace whispered, her head turned in toward the groove of his throat. “I should clean up before you bring Lucia home.”
Romeo reached over and caught her left hand, letting his thumb sweep down to graze across the top of the bandage she still wore on her wrist. “You have to keep this dry, angel. No showering for at least twenty-four hours.”
He could hear the displeasure in her voice when she said, “That sounds terrible. I already feel gross.”
Romeo chuckled and angled his head to press a kiss into her hair. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, “I’ll help you wash where you can, later.”
She shook with a near-silent laugh. “The nurse also said no strenuous physical activity.”
Romeo trailed his lips across her forehead and danced his fingertips over her arm. “I remember. You’ll just have to be a good girl and lay back and take the pleasure I give you.”
Grace wiggled above him, which did absolutely nothing for the blood already pooling in his dick. “That’s hardly fair.”
Romeo grinned. “Don’t worry about me, angel. For a day or three, I can get by painting your beautiful body in my cum. Maybe I’ll let you jack me off with your good hand.” Granted, the visual in his mind only made him hotter.
Grace released a heavy breath, not quite a moan, and tried to pull his hand down her body. “I want you inside me, Romeo.”
Fuck. They had been told a bare minimum of twenty-four hours of restful activity. He didn’t know how to leisurely fuck—to make love. He’d never done it. He gritted his teeth and pulled his hand up, away from the temptation of her pussy. “Not yet, angel,” he said roughly. “Your body needs time to recover.”
She shifted over him, lifting her head enough to meet his gaze. “I don’t want you re-introducing me to Lucia looking like I got blown up this afternoon. But if you’re going to wash me up, you might as well dirty me up a little more first.” She managed to kiss his jaw. “I think we could both use it.”
Romeo groaned. His body sure as hell agreed. He curled his arm around her back and stood, sweeping her up into his arms. “We’re gonna have to compromise.”
“Compromise?” she repeated as he stomped up the stairs.
He carried her to their room, kicked the door shut, and set her on her feet. He stripped her out of her ruined clothing, then himself, then carefully laid her on the bed. Fuck. He hated seeing her hurt, but she was still so beautiful.
He leaned over her, kissing her hard and grinding his pelvis against hers. He reached down, hooked her knees, and pulled them wide. “Goddamn. You want me inside, angel?”
“Yes,” she gasped against his lips. She reached up with her good hand, her fingers digging into his shoulder. “Please.”
She was such a cheater. This hadn’t been his plan, but fuck. She was irresistible. Romeo sucked on her tongue for a long second, continuing to grind against her. “You have to hold still. I’ll hold you down if I have to.”
She trembled, her fingers pressing harder.
He took that as consent, adjusted his hips, and pushed inside her sopping wet pussy. It felt like it had been too long, even if it really hadn’t. Immediately he was fighting the instinct to start thrusting in and out in a way that more appropriately represented the fire in his blood, but he resisted. That, he could not do. So instead he rocked against her, slowly withdrawing and reentering her body in long strokes. It wasn’t his usual style, but it felt fucking fantastic.
Grace’s nails bit into his skin and her legs tensed as she started panting, her head tipped back. She was barely dragging against the mattress, but her body told him he wasn’t the only one enjoying this altered technique. And overall, she was doing pretty well keeping steady. Probably better than he would.
Romeo bent down and ran his tongue down the side of her exposed throat as he ground against her. “You ready to come, angel?” he murmured against her skin.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, please, Romeo!”
He teased the skin of her pulse point with his teeth and, as he filled her one more time, he growled, “Then come.”
She was always so glorious in her ecstasy.