Page 67 of Falling for the Enemy

“Don’t you fucking dare.” I hug her tightly against me, now more relieved than angry, and wrap one of her fists in my shaking hand. “You strike at me, Manzana, and I swear to Cristo himself, injured or not, I will bend you—”

“Alejandro…”

My grip on her flesh lessens, the soothing sound of my whispered name on her lips obliterating my anger. “I’m here.” Tongue gliding over my lower lip, I lift her against my chest and run my nose along her face, the terror that gripped me while she was unconscious receding as color returns to her cheeks. “And I’m not leaving your side. Not ever again.”

She nods, the full meaning of my words clearly not striking their target, then grimaces, the small movement clearly paining her. “Stefano… he—”

“The hijo de puta escaped,” I interrupt, refusing to spoon-feed her the truth by giving it to her in small doses. Above all, she’s strong and resilient, two things I respect the most about her. She can handle knowing the war we share with La Famiglia continues. “But Vincent didn’t.”

Eyes remaining half-mast, she lightly bites the non-busted side of her lower lip. My cock shouldn’t harden at the sight. I know it shouldn’t. But la verga has a mind of its own. “Did you kill him?”

I dip my chin.

“How?”

“With a knife to the throat.”

She attempts to roll her eyes, but tenses when pain assails her once more. “That wasn’t enough,” she whispers, her strained voice dripping with venom. “Not after he threatened to rape me.” Now it’s my frame that goes rigid, every muscle in my body tensing. “It’s one of the ways La Famiglia plans to hurt me.”

Over my dead body.

“They won’t touch you.” Nostrils flaring, scorching heat sweeps through me, likely reddening my skin. “And no,” I manage to add, taking note of each word she just spoke, filing them away for later when I’m given the chance to serve up revenge in her name. “It wasn’t enough.”

Stefano must pay for his son’s sins.

In addition to his own.

Pronto.

“My men,” she begins again, visibly swallowing and inhaling between each word. “Where—”

“Behind us.” The vein in my temple throbs, close to bursting. I understand her reasoning for asking about their status, but the simple question lights a fire in my gut. Irrational or not, I won’t allow her to think of other men while in my arms. “The trio of uninjured Kings followed us to the clinic where we just arrived.”

Christian opens the back door, his timing perfect, allowing sunlight to spill into the SUV. Before it can hit her sensitive eyes, I turn her face into my chest, shielding her from its beams. Protecting her from further pain is a priority.

Along with avenging her.

I kiss her temple as she grabs my shirt, bunching the material in the fist I released moments ago. “I’m going to take care of you, Ari.” The assurance is for both me and her. “Always.”

In a welcome surprise, she snuggles into me, the warmth of her bloody skin bathing mine as I slide out of the SUV and into the afternoon light. In spite of the circumstances, the weight of her in my arms, our pulses beating in sync with one another feels right, proving a truth I already know.

Like two puzzle pieces, we fit.

A vicious King and his cunning Queen.

* * *

I'm close to coming out of my skin.

Standing idly by while the clinic's doctor examines Manzana from head to toe is hurtling me to the point of no return.

To the brink of madness.

His hand touching her skin is enough to induce my rage, something I fail to keep in check when she's involved, but it’s his eyes that are the real problem. They linger on hers far too long. If he doesn't wish for me to pluck them from his skull with my knife, he'll divert them.

Quickly.

I whistle, gaining his attention. His gaze swivels to me, the smile he wears faltering. Back teeth gritted, I make a swiping motion at my neck, the silent threat clear.

---