Page 36 of Protected By the Sinner
“You know my opinion. You should keep her under control but not close.”
I ignore the advice. I never let anyone interfere in my decisions. “And what about the bastards who went after her today?”
“They got away. But one of my men suspects they were Italian, which means they might have nothing to do with Miss Martin. Angelo probably already knows you’re after him. They might’ve been trying to grab her as leverage.”
“Any chance Amber’s connected to them?”
“I’m already looking into that angle, but I think it’s unlikely. That’s not how the Louisiana Italians operate,” he says, referring to the Sicilian mafia that controls the state.
“Keep checking anyway. I want every possibility locked down.”
“It’s already in motion. But she was never really in danger today. The moment she left your building, there were three bodyguards following her.”
“Still, they got way too close. I don’t like that. You can shoot someone in the head from farther away than they were.”
“True, but I don’t think that was their intent. I believe they wanted to take her. If someone’s been watching you, they know you’ve never kept a woman in one of your houses. They might think Miss Martin means something to you.”
I get the feeling he’s still holding something back.
“You know I haven’t mastered mind-reading yet, right?” I ask, irritated.
Roman usually isn’t subtle about sharing his opinions, but today, he seems to be weighing every word. “I’ll keep my thoughts to myself for now. Just be careful with her.”
Minutes later
I knock on the bedroom door, but there’s no answer. So I slowly turn the knob, giving her enough time to stop me if she wants to. But silence reigns.
She’s asleep on her stomach, still wearing her shoes, feet halfway off the bed. Her long hair spills over her back like a waterfall, hiding her face.
I barely take two steps before she bolts upright, alert.
Fear and vulnerability flash across her face.
She quickly recovers, avoiding my gaze and trying to mask her expression, but I saw it. “I fell asleep by accident. I was just going to close my eyes for a minute.”
I move closer. “You don’t have to ask for permission to sleep.”
Her chin lifts. “I don’t have to ask your permission for anything.”
“Is that so?”
“You bet.”
I stop at the edge of the bed. I could swear she’s forcing herself not to scoot away. “If you’re afraid of me, why’d you come?”
“Who said I’m afraid of you?”
“If you’re gonna fake bravery, you need more practice.”
To my surprise, she kneels on the bed and asks, “Can you teach me?”
“Teach you what? How to fake bravery?”
“No. Everything. How to survive in this world.”
“You seem to be doing just fine so far,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Where’s your family?” I know it’s a question that might make her shut down again.
“Why do you want to know?”
