Page 28 of Ruined By Blood
She doesn't respond, just keeps looking out the window like she might find answers in the darkness.
I move closer, not touching her but close enough that she tenses again. "Sienna."
Her name gets her attention. Those ice-blue eyes shift to mine, wary and watchful.
"I'm going to take a shower. It'll be about fifteen minutes." I hold her gaze, making sure she understands what I'm about to say. "Don't try anything stupid while I'm in there."
She bristles slightly, chin lifting. "Like what?"
"Like running into those woods." I gesture toward the window she's been staring through. "There are bears, coyotes, and about a thousand ways to get lost and never be found."
Her jaw tightens. "I wasn't?—"
"Yes, you were." I cut her off, not unkindly. "You werecalculating your odds. But out there, piccola? Your odds are zero."
The moonlight filtering through the window catches on her hair, turning the brown strands almost silver. Despite the bruises and the wariness, she's beautiful. "Though I'd recommend that shower for you too."
She shifts her weight, clearly uncomfortable with my scrutiny.
"Or..." I let my voice drop lower, a hint of teasing slipping in. "You could always join me in mine. Save water. Very environmentally conscious."
Her eyes widen, a flash of outrage replacing the fear. Pink blooms across her cheeks as her mouth opens, then closes again. She's struggling to maintain her composure, caught between anger and—something else.
The corner of her mouth twitches, just barely. She's fighting not to smile.
"I'm just saying—" I continue, enjoying this tiny crack in her armor, "—we'd be doing the planet a favor."
"You're—" She cuts herself off, pressing her lips together firmly.
But I catch it—that slight tremor in her voice isn't fear or anger. She's trying not to laugh. In all our interactions, I've never seen her laugh or even smile.
"I'm what?" I push off from the counter, taking a step closer. Not enough to crowd her, but enough that she has to tilt her head back slightly to maintain eye contact. "Charming? Considerate? Devastatingly handsome?"
She rolls her eyes, but that ghost of amusement still lingers around her mouth. "Impossible," she mutters.
"I've been called worse." I reach past her for my bag, intentionally letting my arm brush against hers. Just the briefest contact, but I feel her tense, then relax slightlywhen I move back. "The offer stands, piccola. My shower door's always open for environmental conservation."
The glare she gives me should be lethal, but there's no real heat behind it. For just a moment, I glimpse the woman she might have been without whatever poison she has in her life—spirited, sharp, maybe even playful.
"I'll pass," she says dryly.
"Your loss." I back away, heading for the stairs.
I head upstairs, still picturing that almost-smile on her face. The hint of normalcy in an otherwise fucked-up situation feels like a small victory.
The bathroom in the bedroom is all cedar and stone, rustic luxury that I've never paid much attention to before. I strip down, tossing my clothes onto the counter and step into the shower, letting hot water pound against my shoulders and neck.
I press my palms against the cool tile, letting water cascade over my head.
What the fuck am I doing?
This was supposed to be simple. Woman beaten on Feretti territory. Message sent that we don't allow that shit. End of story. Just another day enforcing the rules that keep our organization functioning.
But it's more than that now.
I grab the soap, working it between my hands roughly. The scent of sandalwood fills the steam-thick air as I wash away the day's tension.
The truth slams into me. I didn't bring her here just to protect her. I brought her here because I wanted her close. Because something about her pulls at parts of me I thought were dead and buried.
