Page 50 of Seduced By the Enemy
“I’m not telling them, and you’re not either.”
“You think?”
Her jaw dropped. “You have to be kidding me.”
“Nothing about this is a laughing matter.”
“You’re telling me.”
“I genuinely cannot understand how and why this happened. You could be with any man on earth, besides a Santoro, yet you choose Salvatore? Honestly, what’s gotten into you?”
She flinched again. “Go and get him, Leo. Please.”
He stared at her long and hard. “Fine. Stay here.”
“Like I have so many other options,” she muttered. Because if she had, she’d have been up and out of the hospital in a minute flat. But she wore an open backed hospital gown, her clothes neatly folded and stored somewhere out of sight.
She had no choice then, but to wait.
“She’s asked you to leave.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Leandro shrugged. “Then you’re welcome to stay. She said she needed space.”
It was like being hit with an anvil. Every single cell in his body reverberated in surprise, revolting against that. He couldn’t leave without at least seeing her. Without knowing that she was okay. He couldn’t just walk out on her.
“This thing you’ve been doing, it was fine when it was just the two of you. But seeing my reaction, I guess it gave her second thoughts. She wants time to think.”
Salvatore’s gut dropped. It made sense. All the sense in the world. But in his heart, he knew that his own reaction had been the absolute opposite. “How is she?” His voice was gruff, strained to his own ears.
“She’s fine.” And then, with a heavy sigh. “She has a concussion and a sprained wrist. They’ll let her go soon.”
Salvatore opened his mouth to say something, to insist that she should come to his home, where he could look after her, but that sounded like the exact opposite of what Emilia wanted.
Space; space to think.
Wasn’t that wise?
Their month was almost up. They’d both known that. But having Leandro discover them in the stairwell had thrown every carefully laid plan into absolute disarray.
The certainty Salvatore had felt for this entire month—that they were on a clear path with an obvious direction—was now an absolute jumble of twists and turns. A future he hadn’t known he wanted hovered now, he feared, out of reach. And even then, he could barely acknowledge to himself that he did in fact want that future. Everything was wrong.
“You should go,” Leandro said, and when Salvatore turned to look at the Valentino man, he saw him as if for the first time—including the bruise on his cheek. His gut twisted harder, at the knowledge that he’d done that to Emilia’s brother. Whatever else this man was to him, he was her brother, and she loved him.
No wonder she needed space. She’d seen into the heart of him—had seen what he was capable of. Hurting people. Hurting her.
Ice spread through his veins, but he moved to the nurse’s station anyway. “May I have a pen and paper?”
A pretty young woman with blonde hair and pink lips handed him a notepad with the hospital’s branding across the top. He took it with a curt nod and began to write:
E—I’mso sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. S.
It wasn’t enough.It was far from it. But these were words he had to say. Words he needed her to hear. At least, to start with.
He strode back to Leandro and handed the note to him. “Give this to her.” There was no question. It was a statement, sucked from the very depths of his soul. “Please.”
Leandro looked as though he wanted to argue, but for whatever reason, he didn’t. He simply took the paper and nodded once. “Fine.”
