Page 67 of Her Guardian
Nobody should call unless there is news. Everyone is trying to rest. But if something happens, I need to wake up, and I’d rather not turn on the ringer. If I get woken up by another call from someone who wants to talk about the warranty on my SUV or renter’s insurance for my condo, I might snap their neck through the phone.
“Does that mean I’m allowed to look at your phone if you get a text?” Sarah asks, removing my phone from my pants and putting it on the table.
“Just don’t fucking read it. If it’s from Massimo, Dante, or someone like that, wake me up,” I clarify, rolling over and pulling the covers tight. “Otherwise…”
“Got it,” Sarah whispers, walking close to the bed and leaning down to kiss my cheek. Her lips linger there and move to my ear, which makes me shudder. “Goodnight, Big Boyd.”
“Night,” I mutter.
Then I sleep like the dead. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m exhausted or because Sarah is so close. I’ve been sleeping a lot better since she got tangled up in my life. I’m not haunted by the nightmares about Erica’s coup anymore. I don’t even gethaunted by nightmares about the Mafia Prince Killer, and the damage he could do to the Morandi family.
It’s dark when I wake up. Not just in the room, because the curtains are still closed. There’s no glow, except from the laptop illuminating Sarah’s face. She’s sitting at the table not far from the bed. I reach for my phone and flip it over. No messages.
“I’ve checked it a few times,” Sarah says, closing her laptop. “No calls at all.”
“It’s late,” I observe. “I’m sure you need some rest, too.”
“I thought about climbing into bed with you a few times,” she admits. “But I didn’t want to fall asleep and miss a phone call or text. Especially if the Mafia Prince Killer struck again.”
“It’s late enough that I can just turn on the ringer,” I say, hitting the switch and getting up. “I’ll be right back.”
I stumble to the bathroom, still groggy. Once I take a few deep breaths and stretch, I relieve myself, clean up, and step out of the bathroom. Sarah is still sitting at the table, but she flashes me a coy look as I return to the bed and sit down. Probably because I’m still naked.
But she’s not. And that’s a problem I intend to fix.
I gesture to Sarah, lie down, and scoot away from the edge of the bed while holding the covers up for her. “Come keep me warm. I’m a little chilly.”
“Chilly? You’re like a permanent heater,” she laughs, biting her bottom lip as she stands and walks over to me.
“Get your ass in bed,” I growl, grabbing her arm and tugging her under the covers.
I pull Sarah close and kiss her soft lips before she has a chance to object. I’m still tired, but I’ve had enough rest to feel the need coursing through my veins. Unsatiated. Undeniable. This beautiful woman has done something to me, and as much as I hate to admit it, I kind of like the way it feels.
Every beat of my heart. For her.
Every desire radiating inside me. For her.
I used to be scared of feeling something like this again. Too scared of it falling apart and leaving scars that never heal. So scared, I kept everyone at a distance, even the women I dated. But I don’t want to push Sarah away. Far from it. I want her in my arms every fucking night.
Once we catch this fucker, I’ll show her exactly what it means to be mine.
CHAPTER 26
Sarah
I wake up in Boyd’s arms, with the sun lighting up the curtains.
I’m not as sore as I was after our first night together. I’m getting used to his roughness. Loving the way it feels. Craving more of it, even though he ravaged me before we fell asleep.
But mostly I crave this. Being right here, in his arms. The quiet intimacy of skin on skin. Snuggled into his warmth, not wanting to move a muscle, no matter what kind of dirty thoughts are going through my head. Right now, we’re just Boyd and Sarah. Two people who spent another night together. No Mafia. No serial killers. No podcasts. If I knew which deity to thank, I would.
I curse several of them when Boyd’s phone rings and I reach for it. Boyd’s already pulling away and sitting up when I hand it over my shoulder.
“It’s Dante,” I sigh, hating what it means. Time for Big Mafia Boyd to spring back into action. Time to spend another day alone, worrying about him. Unless… “Anything? Did the sensors get tripped?”
“No, still nothing,” Boyd grunts, rubbing a hand over his face as he tries to wake up. “How long is this fucker going to make us wait? He killed three people and now he’s hiding?”
I nuzzle closer to Boyd, my cheek against his big, powerful arm. “The Mafia Prince Killer has never been predictable. That’s why the cops never had any real leads until they got that tip after his last kill in New York. But considering that it looks more and more like Arthur Dykstra is innocent, framing him may have been all part of the plan, too.”
