Chapter 8
RAQUEL
“Ma’am, wake up,” someone calls to me from somewhere far away.
It’s like a dream I can’t seem to grab hold of.
“We need your help. Wake up,” the same voice says again.
My eyes pop open, and that’s when I find two of Dante’s men standing over me. At least that’s who I hope they are, or I’m in some serious trouble.
“Wha…” I sit up, my eyes darting from one to the other. “What’s going on?”
“The boss needs you, ma’am. He got hurt tonight. A robbery.”
“What are you talking about? Where is he?”
I rush to my feet, thanking myself for not wearing short shorts to bed and deciding on some loose black pajama pants and a black tank top instead.
“He’s in the kitchen. He was working late,” the tall man informs me. “He was coming out to his car when he was shot.”
“Shot? What?!” I jog down the steps, wondering why the hell he isn’t in a damn hospital.
“Yeah,” the man goes on, keeping up with me easily. “They took whatever cash was in his wallet, then put a bullet in his arm when he tried to chase after them.”
“Fucking idiot!” I grate in frustration as we descend down the final step. “Everyone knows not to chase after the criminal.”
“I’m sorry, beautiful wife,” Dante says from a distance. “I’ll remember that for next time.”
That’s when I see him, the light in his eyes set to a dim as he slumps in a chair beside a table, a white shirt covered with a small red stain enveloping his arm.
“Seriously, Dante?” I throw my hands in the air once I approach. “The first night we’re married, and you’ve already managed to almost die?”
“I did say I was sorry.” He smirks, but it’s weak, like he’s in a lot of pain.
Shit. I’m such a jerk, talking to him about this while he’s hurting.
The doctor bag he bought me is already on the table, waiting for me.
“Dante, I hope you realize I can’t do much here. Why didn’t you just go to a hospital?”
“Would you believe me if I said I don’t have insurance?” He grins, his teeth gritting now as though every word is a struggle.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re hiding, and I don’t think I want to know, but I can’t help you. What if the bullet is really deep in there? I can’t remove it here without risking more damage.”
If he doesn’t want to go to the hospital, there has to be a reason. It’s not like a robbery was his fault, unless he’s lying about what happened.
Who is he really? What did I get involved in?
“It’s a flesh wound, baby. You’re all I’ve got, so you either let me die or clean me up. But leave a nice scar so I’ll have a good story for the ladies.”
“What ladies?” I arch a brow as I draw near, deciding I’ll do my best to help him, since it’s obvious he won’t be going anywhere.
“Oh, you know.” He winces as I unwrap the shirt from his arm and find the hole has stopped bleeding. “The ones I’ll spend my nights with when you’re long gone, sipping cocktails in Maui while I die from missing you.”
“Uh-huh. Yeah, okay.” I hand the shirt to one of his men. “You? Lonely? I find that hard to believe.”
“You’re a hard woman to replace, Raquel Bianchi.” He looks deeply into my eyes. “I can already tell.”
I’m so used to him teasing me, but I’m shocked to find no humor in those words, nor his gaze. He means it.
“Well, you’ll have to learn to go on without me, Dante Cavaleri.”
“Ouch. You’re an awful, awful woman.”
“The worst,” I tease. “Now, come on. Get up. Let’s go to the sink.”
He stands, moving with me, his bare skin and hard muscles a sight I can’t enjoy under the circumstances.
“I don’t think I’ll have a hard time replacing you, though,” I tell him with a quirk of my lips as I remove a bottle of saline solution from my bag.
“Wow. You’re really trying to kick a man when he’s already down.” He rests his forearm right at the edge of the sink.
“It’s what I do best.” I crack a smile, spilling half the bottle of saline over his shoulder and making sure it’s clean before I examine him for any bullet fragments.
He sits back down on the chair as I grab some forceps.
“This is gonna hurt,” I warn.
“Baby, nothing could hurt quite as bad as that mouth of yours giving me shit while I’ve got a hole the size of Texas.”
“It’s not that big,” I scoff playfully. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Oh, you’re gonna get it.”
His grin deepens, and I have an insane urge to kiss him.
“Are you ready?” I swallow down my growing attraction, moving the forceps toward his arm and placing my other palm on his wrist.
He nods once, then I begin.
“Shit,” he hisses as the metal meets his flesh.
“Remember this pain the next time you play Rambo.”
He groans, flexing his jaw, and I can feel his eyes on me. His gaze is so dark and warm, I have to steady my pulse to concentrate.
I continue working, making sure there’s nothing inside. And there isn’t. I stitch him up and apply some gauze before wrapping the wound.
“You’ll need antibiotics. Where do you plan on getting those?” I glare at him.
“I know a guy who knows a guy.” His mouth curves into a smile as he takes a seat back on the chair.
“This isn’t funny, Dante. You’d better get them, or you could develop a serious infection.”
He looks at one of his men behind me and jerks his head to the side. They march out on command, and once they’re gone, his gaze seductively slinks from my face down to the curve of my hips before riding back up.
“Come here, baby.” He pats his lap, his eyes eagerly drinking me in.
“Uh…” My brows slam upward. “There’s absolutely no way I’m sitting on you.”
“Wanna bet?”
Before I can make my escape, his uninjured arm snakes around my ass, gripping me tight and setting me right on his thighs.
“Dante…” I stress, my feet dangling over his other side. “We’re supposed to keep business and pleasure separate, not mix the two.”
He gazes up at me with hooded eyes, his lips nearing the middle of my chest.
“Who made up that rule? Because it’s pretty stupid,” he rasps sultrily, making my insides curl deliciously in the wake of his alluring voice.
“Thank you for taking care of me, wife.”
All I can do is groan as his hot mouth lands over the top of my breasts, still covered with clothing. His lips pepper me with soft kisses, and my nipples strain from the sensation.
My hand settles on his head with a loud gasp, my fingers sinking into the silken weight of his hair as the thick strands awaken my senses.
I clutch for dear life, pulling a little too roughly when his teeth scrape along the curve of my breast. He breaks with a savage growl, his hand twisting up to my hair and yanking hard as he clenches his teeth.
“If you make those sounds again…” he warns, his gaze capturing me as his breaths fall rapidly over my mouth. “You’re gonna find yourself fully stretched with my cock inside you.”
My pulse leaps out of my throat, my inhales fighting with my exhales. My body wants him, but I can’t give in.
No emotional attachments.
“I…I should go,” I warble as I quickly stand up.
He lets me go with a sigh.
My feet barely move. My back is to him as I take a step away, then another. But I stop, my shoulders swaying with heavy panting.
I stand here, fighting my feelings for someone I don’t know. I’ve never craved a man like I do him. I never knew what it felt like to be desired this badly.
But I know now. I want to know how it feels to be touched by him. I want him to show me, even if it’s for a short time.
The chair drags across the floor, the sound rocking my already tumultuous heart. His footsteps thud, and I suck in a sharp breath, my stomach in tight knots.
He comes closer, his body heat warming me up from the inside out. I whimper, unable to contain the flutters when he’s this close.
“I want you.” His erotic, husky tone whips over my skin as his hand roughly clutches the back of my neck, spinning me around, landing me harshly against him.
My chest flails with heavy waves of emotion as my lips part. His gaze is piercing, and I can’t help but be pulled into those gorgeous eyes and that face bent with want.
“You make me insane, Raquel.”
He looks at me so deeply, so intoxicatingly.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps as I swallow the lump lodged in my throat.
And before I can ask what for, his lips slam to mine.
He kisses me like a man hungry for more.
Like his life ends and begins with me. The moans and groans mingle with our breaths as he pushes me up against the wall with the weight of his body.
I knock roughly into the hard surface. His injured arm hangs by his side, his hand palming the curve of my hip.
I cling to the back of his head, my fingers sprawling and drawing him even closer as his erotic growls vibrate against my mouth.
He angles his face to kiss me deeper, his tongue rolling with mine, his teeth biting into my lower lip before we move in sync again, finding a rhythm too difficult to separate from.
I could kiss this man for hours. It’s filled with passion and beauty. The first kiss to rival all first kisses I’ve had in the past. Nothing will ever come close.
After what feels like forever, yet not long enough, he pulls back. Both of us pant as his forehead falls to mine.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.” His gravelly whisper seeps with sensuality, wrapping me with so much hunger that I ache for him.
“We’ve only just met at the bar,” I sigh, attempting to calm my stuttered breathing. “Can’t be that long.”
“It feels longer than that.”
“I guess it does,” I breathe.
“That kiss…Raquel.” He takes a long inhale.
“You weren’t so bad yourself.” I grin, my eyes closed as I enjoy the intimacy of the moment.
“You’re a hard one to impress.” There’s a smile twined in his words. “I promise to do better next time, wife.”
“There’ll be no next time,” I pretend to argue, no longer sure who I’m trying to convince.
“We’ll see about that.” The edge of certainty in his voice is obvious.
And he’s probably right. After that kiss, I don’t think I could stop him.
I drag in a slow breath. “You should go to bed and sleep. You need to heal.”
“Only if you come with me.” His lips sink to mine in a soft caress, and my insides flip around as though disconnected from my body.
“Okay,” I murmur as he draws back, the corners of his lips climbing with a heartfelt smile.
And I feel it somewhere inside me, like it’s found a permanent space within my very soul. Our eyes stay locked on one another as my body courses with the awareness prickling my skin. When he looks at me like that, I’m grateful to be alive. Grateful I found him. Or that he found me.
His hand grabs hold of mine, and he leads me out of the kitchen and up the stairs to our bedroom. When the door shuts behind us, I hide away the nerves, watching him as he comes toward me, our gazes once again fused into one molten wave.
“Let’s go to bed,” he says softly, the back of his hand coasting down the side of my face, making my cheek tingle from his touch.
I nod, letting him twine his pinky around mine as he brings me to the bed and flips the comforter over to make room.
I climb in first, with him close behind. My body alights with renewed hunger, the passion from before lingering and stamping over any thoughts that tell me this is wrong or that being in bed with him, this near his body, is not right.
But he feels right, and in this moment, that’s all that matters. Life is too short to live in the shadow of regret.
He slides his right arm under my body, shifting me to him, while his left arm rests over my middle.
“Sleep well,” I say.
He sighs contently. “With you, I will. Goodnight, sweetheart.”
My eyelids flow shut, my heart full of happiness. I’m bathed by the serenity of this moment, not wanting to ever be without it.
And yet, I wonder how I can feel this way, knowing I’ve just stitched up a man I barely know.