Page 190 of Salvatore

I roll my eyes. “The pertinent question is—would you be able to grant her access while bleeding out from a phallus wound?”

He approaches my side of the bed, leans down, and kisses me. “Fine. No confinement. But how about a tracker? I could put it?—”

I deepen the kiss, cutting off his words with a swipe of my tongue. “No trackers. No restrictions. No rules. Otherwise you’ll see a side of me reserved for the devil.”

“You mean I haven’t already?”

“Not even close, big boy.”

He snickers against my lips. “Well, I like my trouble with a little fire,mi reina.I can’t wait to have your worst.”

I bat at his chest. “It’s your funeral.”

He grabs me around the back of the neck, forcing his mouth to remain on mine, making me all tingly and giddy while the evidence of our recent encounter seeps from between my thighs.

“Go.” I pull away, unwilling to fall victim to his charms again. “Call your uncle. Make him listen to your plan.”

He stills, frowns, his hand falling to his side. “You want me to discuss it with him?”

I drag in a strengthening breath and nod. “Only under one condition.”

His expression hardens, the line from playful to professional now fully crossed. “I’m listening.”

“You don’t get hurt.” I steel my shoulders, feigning authority I don’t feel. “Whatever strategy you decide on, it’s to be done carefully, plannedslowly, with no risk to your life. Otherwise you don’t have my blessing, Salvatore. Do you understand?”

He straightens, silent in a brief moment of contemplation before he nods.

“Say it.” The demand comes out all pleading and weak. “I want to hear you say the words. To make the promise.”

“Ivy, I’m not going to do anything reckless. Not now.” Conviction stares back at me, but it’s not enough to temper my gnawing fear. “You just told me you’re having my baby. I’m not going to let you go through that alone. Not when it’ll be the highlight of my fucking life.”

My heart flip-flops, panging and bleeding and engaging in all those other ill-gotten romantic urges that have never come naturally to me.

“Good.” I bat him away again, needing privacy to pull myself back from the brink of feminine frailty. “Get to it, then. I need another shower to wash your filth off of me.”

“But I like you like this.” His grin is slow and sinful. “Always wet and dripping with my?—”

“Leave,Salvatore.” I chuckle around the order. “Don’t make me regret you.”

“Impossible. Regrets are for people who hold back, and you never do with me. At least not in the bedroom.” He fastens his belt as he walks for the door. “Think of me while you shower.”

40

IVY

I’m still coastingon an adrenaline-filled high after I get out of the shower and throw on a deep red sundress, the light material allowing my healing wounds freedom to breathe.

I grab my phone, eager to connect with the outside world, and find a text waiting on my screen.

Allison

I miss you so much.

The adrenaline peters out, replaced with longing and so much guilt.

I iced her out, hoping to ignore how I’ve treated her. How I fabricated a life and fed her that mistruth on the daily even though she’s one of my best friends.

But I can’t ignore it anymore.

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