After a few bites, he leaned in, eyes honed in on her.
‘What did those men want,cariño? The ones who attacked you. Who sent them after you?’
Her hand stilled midair.
A tremor ran through her.
Vern.
The name crawled across her mind, and the chill it carried arced down her spine.
Santi’s jaw ticked as his eyes raked her face.
His gaze narrowed on her as she blinked.
He rose to his full height with a deep inhale. ‘De nada, I’ll find out,’ he muttered, half to himself. ‘I had Miral pick them up after I cuffed them. She’ll get to the truth.’
He stalked to the door, paused. His hand lingered on the jamb, fingers flexing once.
‘Wait,’ she blurted, her grip tightening on the edge of the blanket, ‘how did I get changed? Cleaned up?’
Her voice trailed off as the image bloomed in her mind, unwanted.
Of herself, unconscious, filthy from alley grime and fever-sweat, and him undressing her.
Seeing her at her most vulnerable and exposed.
Her face flamed with heat that had nothing to do with her lingering malady.
Santi didn’t reply right away.
Instead, he leaned against the door frame, arms folded, one dark brow arched.
Her stomach flipped.
‘Santi,’ she pressed, her utterance a little hoarse, ‘please be real with me.’
He tilted his head, eyes dancing and gleaming like liquid obsidian under a dusk-lit sky. ‘You’re not going to like the answer.’
‘Santi -.’
‘Miral,’ he finally rasped.
Relief whooshed out of her in a gust as she slumped back into the pillows. ‘Oh, thank heavens.’
‘I waited in the next room,’ he added, with a slight quirk to his lips. ‘She took care of you. Even threatened to fling nanite blades at me when I tried to check your fever myself.’
Soleil gave a half-choked laugh. ‘I thought it wasyou-.’
She trailed off.
‘I know what you thought,’ he said. ‘Know this,mi sol, I’d never do anything to make you feel undignified or disrespected. Savvy?’
Her eyes flicked up to his.
The heat that lived in the depths of his gaze jolted her.
It blazed, the way coals glow under the ash of a slow-burning inferno.