Chapter 12 #2
What if I stayed at that café table five minutes longer, brooding over a woman who tossed my heart away?
In the back of the cab, Roxy rested her head on my chest.
I pressed my lips to the crown of her head, relief hitting hard that she was safe and at my side.
The taxi tires crunched over the gravel driveway of the villa.
Mrs. Campanelli bustled out the front door as we stepped out onto the porch, gasping at my bruised hand.
‘Madre di Dio, Signore,’ she fretted, waving her hands in the air. ‘What on earth happened?’
‘Just a little misunderstanding at the market, Mrs. C,’ I said, offering her a faint smile. ‘The bruising will go down in a day.’
‘You men are all the same,’ she fussed, marching into the kitchen to fetch cotton swabs, antiseptic alcohol, and band aids.
Roxy led me into the sunroom, guiding me down onto the cushioned bench.
She took the items from Mrs. Campanelli, kneeling on the floor between my knees while setting the salve bottle beside her ankle.
Her touch was light as she lifted my bruised hand and dipped the swab in the disinfectant, then wiped me clean.
I sucked in a breath, tensing as the sting burned.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered, her eyes flashing up to meet mine. ‘I’m trying to be gentle.’
‘You’re fine, Roxy,’ I rasped. ‘I’ve had far worse.’
‘That doesn’t mean you deserve to bleed,’ she murmured, dabbing at my skin.
She placed a bandage on me, her thumbs smoothing the edges.
My pulse thumped as I studied her profile.
‘Don’t know what I’da done if anything happened to you, Rox.’
Roxy’s eyes flew to mine, her cheeks pinking over.
‘I’m OK, honey, thanks to you.’
Again we locked eyes, and a jolt went through me as our stare intensified.
She broke it off when she took a harsh inhale, as if overwhelmed.
‘All done,’ she said, patting my arm as she stood up. ‘Let’s change and wash up for dinner.’
I tracked her progress, eyes narrowing on her, wondering at the desire flickering between us.
It was not the volatile passion I’d shared with my ex, but a steady, sensual allure that threatened my control.
She was the polar opposite of Evangeline’s chaotic toxicity; her quiet grit and tranquil nature were a soothing balm.
She also had fire and fierceness, which I appreciated.
Still, I couldn’t be with Roxy.
She was never my intended, and as soon as I gained leverage over her bastard father, Reese, I planned to dismantle our forced marriage.
Nobody trapped me, no one played me, hell, no fool ever got the better of me, least of all fuckin’ Reese Rosedale.
Later, dinner was a grand affair of grilled sea bass, blistered tomatoes, and crusty bread.
All through the meal, my thoughts kept straying to the woman across the table.
After we cleared the plates, I strode to my room and returned, placing my second black Visa card next to Roxy on the table.
‘What’s this?’
‘My backup; now it’s yours,’ I growled.
She scowled and crossed her hands over her chest. ‘Don’t need it.’
‘You’re my wife, and in my world it means I take care of you. Period.’
She arched a brow and shook her head. ‘Don’t want it.’
‘Don’t insult me, babe.’
‘I’m not, I’m just Miss Independent. Deal.’
We faced off until I huffed in amusement.
‘I’ll still get you, y’know,’ I rasped, tucking the card away while making a private note to track down her account details and make an outrageous transfer as soon as possible.
‘Never,’ she murmured as she wandered to the living room and pointed a remote control at the television screen.
‘I’m putting on a movie,’ she said, glancing over her shoulder at me. ‘You probably want to head upstairs and rest, right?’
‘No,’ I replied, catching her off guard and surprising myself. ‘I’m staying here, with you.’
She blinked in surprise as I pulled an armchair close to the sofa, settling my broad shoulders against the cushions.
Throughout the entire two-hour feature, my focus drifted away from the glowing TV and fixed on her.
Every time she let out a quiet laugh or glanced my way, I held her gaze, mulling the connection between us.
An unfamiliar intensity stirred in my chest, a shift in my perspective that I couldn’t wrap my brain around yet.
I wanted to take care of Roxy.
The desire was sudden, savage, and it ran deep, and I mulled on it for the rest of the movie.
ROXY
When the credits rolled, I stood up and stretched my arms, yawning.
‘I’m exhausted, Angel. Heading to bed.’
He rose from the armchair at once.
‘I’m walking you to your door.’
‘It’s just down the hall,’ I murmured, but still he fell into step right beside me.
At the entrance to my room, I paused, turning to give his unbandaged hand a gentle squeeze.
‘Goodnight, Angel. Thanks for being my knight today.’
‘Always, Rox,’ he rasped, his voice dropping an octave. ‘Sleep well.’
I shut the door and headed to the bathroom.
As I washed my face and brushed my teeth, my mind whirled.
Had he protected me earlier out of genuine care, or was it just some ingrained reflex?
I wanted so badly to believe I mattered to him, but the shadow of Evangeline always loomed in the back of my thoughts.
Climbing into bed, I tossed and turned, unable to settle down.
An hour later, sudden thirst dragged me out from under the comforter.
Needing a glass of water from the kitchen, I grabbed a robe and went to the door, turning the brass knob.
When the oak surface swung open, my jaw dropped.
Angel sat slumped on the wooden jamb, his chin resting against his chest, fast asleep.
The hell?
‘Angel?’ I gasped, dropping to my knees to shake his broad shoulder. ‘What are you doing on the floor?’
His eyelids fluttered apart, dazed as he took in my worried face.
I tugged on his arm, trying to hoist his muscled frame off the floorboards, but he scarcely budged.
‘Get up,’ I urged.
With a grunt, he rose but stood swaying in the hallway, still half asleep.
Realizing I couldn’t drag him down the hallway to his own room, I guided him toward my bed instead.
He tumbled onto the soft sheets, his massive body taking up more than half the mattress as his head hit my pillow.
I stood next to him, hesitating as I stared down at him in the moonlight.