Page 63 of Hostile Vows
“Souza.”
“So you know that name sends fear throughout the masses, right? Sapori made an enemy of me when his men attacked my territory and roughed up my wife. If you’re hiding something, now's the time to tell me.”
I’d go to war with the whole world if it meant I’d never have to see her this fragile again, and one of these days, I might tell her that.
She looks confused. “As soon as I remember… we’ll talk… okay?”
I study the bruising on her neck and then level her with an accusing look. “His men beat the fuck out of you. You rushed back into that hotel room to tell Sapori you’d do something. Surely you remember what it was?”
Her adorable scowl pinches my heart. “He’s a bastard. What else do you want me to say? I told you already, I don’t remember…”
Something stirs within me. The desire to simply be in the same room as her is potent. I could walk away, cruise along Ocean Drive on my motorcycle, or get wasted with my friends in a club. Yet none of my past vices appeal to me.
Life, up to this point, has been a never-ending party. The same disorganized journey with no destination in sight. I thought it was fulfilling until she reappeared, and now, everything feels steady, like she’s become my grounding foundation.
“Well, it looks like we’re in for an interesting evening.” I pull my sweats down, watching her eyes roam all over my heavy dick.
“What are you doing?”
“Making myself comfortable.” Buck naked, I round the bed, pull back the sheets, and settle in bed beside her. It’s going to be a long night, made even harder by the fact I know she’s braless underneath that skull t-shirt. The brand-new top she’d worn had blood all over it, and I wasn’t going to let her rest in skinny jeans. Sounds like a lame excuse to get her naked, but at the time, my concentration prioritized her well-being.
“You’re sleeping here?”
“It’s our bed, in our suite, Sin.”
I stuff a pillow behind my head and reach for the TV remote. Even though there’s a good measure of space between us, I can feel the heat of her skin like a roaring fire. This growing desire hasn’t left me, not once, and being so close to her body is playing havoc with my senses.
“You haven’t slept beside me since I moved in.”
I shrug. “I might not have joined you in bed, but I’ve sat in this room every night.” She sighs and I can’t tell if it’s in defeat, bewilderment, or exhaustion. “Do you need stronger meds for the headache?”
“What have you got?”
I laugh. “I can literally get you any drug you want. No joke. You’re in bed with a Souza, don’t forget.”
“You’rein bed with a Souza too,” she says quietly. Her eyes turn cloudy as she looks at me. “Hypothetically speaking, if Frankie were dead, would you let me go? I mean… would you file for a divorce?”
I scratch my jaw, not needing time to think. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because—” I say immediately.
“Because isn’t an answer.”
“Well… it’smyanswer,” I counter. “Have you remembered something he said to you?”
She shuffles down the bed, simultaneously brushing her bare foot against mine. The unintentional contact is far from sexual. However, it ignites a blazing inferno under the bedsheets. Sparks fly all over me and raging flames almost melt my good intentions to let her recover in peace.
“I’m tired.” Her voice is soft yet thick, unexpectedly seductive.
The mattress moves beneath me when I move closer, snake my arm under her delicate neck, and rotate her torso so her hips roll into me. She’s neatly pressed against my ribs, her shocked expression next to my face on the pillow.
Her eyes are shining now, the shade of green so deep it reminds me of the abundant green pastures on my grandfather’s Irish estate and the shimmering freshwater lake hedged by evergreen forest.
“Go to sleep, Wifey. I’ll be right here waiting for you to remember the other reason why I’m going to get rid of Sapori,” I say on a rumble, battling my way through the torture of being this close to her, my self-control a fractured layer of wafer-thin ice.
Her soft curves notably stiffen. “He’s dangerous, Dré. I know that without having a concussion.”
