I’m caged in his strong arms, but I don’t feel like his captive.
For now, he’s the only person in the world who seems to give a damn about my safety.
I tuck my face close to his broad chest, breathing him in. He murmurs a soothing stream of Italian while he tenderly strokesmy hair. I don’t understand the words, but the rumbling cadence lulls me into a sense of security. His powerful body enfolds mine, his imposing frame more than strong enough to protect me from harm. I feel small and achingly vulnerable, but I’m not afraid. Not of him.
He holds me while I cry. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, the regular, deep pulse beating in a hypnotic rhythm. After a while, my breaths slow to match his, and my own thundering heartbeat regulates. I sniffle, and he brushes the final tear from my damp cheek.
His face is mere inches from mine, those sensual lips soft and tempting…
“You need to eat,dolcezza,” he chides, and I suddenly realize that my stomach aches with hunger.
I haven’t eaten since dinner last night, before I’d gone to the bar with George’s colleagues. Before the man had tried to roofie me. Before I’d snuck out into the night and overheard George’s traitorous conversation. Before…
“Eat,” Massimo urges, pulling away from me so that I can finally face breakfast.
I take a breath and force away the dark memories, crushing my emotions into a tight ball and shoving them deep in my chest. I never allow myself to fall apart the way I just wept in Massimo’s arms. It’d been an awful moment of weakness, and I have to pull myself together.
I’ve accepted the painful fact that George is corrupt, but I’m far from resigned to my fate. Massimo won’t hurt me, and I have no doubt that he’ll do anything to protect me—he’s proven that so many times already.
But my dark savior is a criminal, no matter how tenderly he treats me. No matter how his touch sets my body on fire.
Chapter 16
Evelyn
“If you’re finished, I’ll show you what I ordered for you,” Massimo says when I set down my fork.
I’ve been quiet during breakfast, sorting through my tangled thoughts.
Going to the police in Mexico City isn’t an option, and I definitely can’t go to the DEA. Somehow, I have to get back to America—away from the cartels, away from George.
Away from Massimo.
Now that he’s spoken to me, my eyes lift to his. They glitter with anticipation, and his lips curve with a hint of pleasure. Whatever he’s purchased for me, the prospect of giving it to me excites him.
Unease stirs in my gut. In my experience, gifts always come with a price, a debt that I can’t pay.
I don’t want to owe Massimo even more.
I already owe him my life. Accepting material things will only place me more thoroughly under his control.
For now, I have no choice but to rely on my dark protector, but I have no intention of staying amongst the cartel indefinitely.
I don’t want to accept anything that will come with further strings attached.
“Whatever it is, I don’t need it,” I reply, shrugging off his offer.
His gaze trails over my body in a lazy, indulgent appraisal. I become acutely aware that his thin cotton shirt is all that conceals my nakedness. His attention makes warmth bloom beneath the surface of my skin, and my cheeks heat.
“Do you want to go to the party wearing only my shirt?” he rumbles. “Believe me, I wouldn’t mind at all. That way, everyone will know you’re with me.”
His massive body seems to swell, his powerful muscles flexing with something like pride.
I swallow down the protest that teases at the tip of my tongue: I’m notwith him.
But the other things he said are too important for me to argue over that misconception at the moment.
“What party?” I ask. “I don’t want to meet any of your cartel friends.”