Page 21 of Wild Card
Not exactly the situation in which I imagine being swept off my feet, but the man fits the part. He lowers me onto the bed, and takes my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better. I was worried. Get some rest. I’m going to sleep on the couch,” His tone is gruff. It’s sexy, and my body responds accordingly. He’s very attractive and I’m injured, not dead. Not yet anyway.
And I don’t want him to go. What if his uncle comes in when he’s asleep? I want him next to me in case that deviant asshole makes a visit.
“Don’t go,” I whisper. “Lie next to me, please?”
He seems reluctant.
His loyalty to his family, even to his loser uncle, seems to be warring with his innate drive to protect. I need to play into that drive. I don’t know how I’ll survive otherwise.
“Gio, I’m afraid.”
And I am. This whole thing has me shaken in ways that move beyond present physical fear. I’m facing the distance and uncertainty in all of my relationships as well as new uncertainty about inner strengths I was previously so sure of. I was positive I could do anything on my own up until now.
I reach for Gio’s hand, but he’s already too far away for me to touch him. I need him closer. I can’t handle Lorenzo coming at me again.
He sighs and takes a step toward me, letting me hold his hand. It’s massive and warm. My body remembers how gentle his touch can be. He’s strong, but he’s never used that against me.
Even though my father had his parents killed.
Gio may not exactly be on my side, but I trust him not to hurt me.
“Catriona,” he whispers, “it’s just outside—I’ll be nearby.”
“Please don’t make me beg you to stay, Gio. I’m already embarrassed at how helpless I feel.” My voice is small. I barely recognize it.
He curses in Italian. “I’m sorry, Beauty, for all this. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Still, he eases into the bed, leaving a small distance between us. It’s hard for him to do—even in a king-sized bed he takes up a lot of space.
But I need to get even closer.
My life depends on playing this right.
And I like being close to him, bizarre as that may be.
I’m lucky he’s more of a gentleman than his uncle. The memory of Lorenzo’s fetid breath on me sends a shudder of fear through my body and before I know it, I’ve pressed against Gio’s side, my tears soaking his shirt.
He slides his arm around me as I shiver against him. I’m not even cold. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
He curses my father’s name under his breath and presses a gentle kiss to my head.
“I’ve got you. Get some rest.”
I know I’ll be safe here tonight.
