Page 25 of Unruly Protector
CHAPTER EIGHT
Out for blood
— CATERINA —
The bed shifts andI slowly awake.Everything is normal for the first few seconds.Then I remember Mattia is gone and pain, along with sadness, hits me hard.The last few days I wake up and experience the same thing all over again.
Today is my wedding day.It should be a day filled with joy, but instead I feel this day is dipped in sadness.
Clemente stalks out of the bathroom and heads for his closet.He hasn’t left my side once over the last few days.Where we went head-to-head the first few weeks after we met, the last few days felt as if we were friends about to become lovers.
Sweet caresses, soft words of adoration, taking care of my every need.He’s been amazing.Well, between his anger, annoyance, and frustration.But that’s due to the fact that they haven’t been able to find Daniel.
“Where are you going?”I ask in a groggy morning voice.
Clemente zips up his slacks, puts on a white dress shirt, and starts to button up as he stalks toward me.
He reaches out and slides his knuckles over my cheek.“Get some more sleep.We have a big day today.I have to handle something first.I’ll be back later or I’ll meet you at the altar.”
He continues to button up his shirt, tucks it into his slacks, and fastens his belt.Like I said, the last few days he’s been glued to my side and now—the day of our wedding—he suddenly has to leave?And did he really say, “I’ll see you at the altar.”Seriously?
I throw the covers back, jump out of bed, throw panties, a bra, and a summer dress onto the bed and stalk into the bathroom.
When I’ve quickly handled my business, I stroll back into the bedroom where Clemente is waiting for me right next to the bed where I threw my clothes.His arms are crossed in front of his chest, and I have to give it to him, there’s no glare.
And yet I can clearly notice by the way his lips are pulled into a straight line that he’s anything but content by my jumping out of bed and getting dressed.
“What are you doing?”he asks with repressed calmness.
I shrug out of his T-shirt—which I’ve been stealing each night since I like sleeping in his large shirts—and grab my panties.
“I’m going with you,” I casually reply.
He slowly shakes his head, adding the words, “No, you’re not.”as a second level of reprimand.
I mimic his stance and snap, “We’re getting married in a few hours and you are about to walk out that door with a simple, ‘See you at the altar.’I’d say you fell out of bed and landed on your head if you think I’m okay with that.”
The corner of his mouth twitches.“Is that so?”
I drop my hands and defensively plant them on my hips.“Yes.That is so.”
