Page 57 of Gilded Saint

“She hasn’t so far. She’ll be fine.”

He leaves us, and I fiddle with the strap on her heels, removing them. The edges of her toes are tinged with a black, oily stain, as are the tips of her shoes. The smell on my fingers after removing her shoes is nasty.

Her eyelids close and she curls onto her side. I tuck the comforter around her. The drapes are drawn already, as I don’t like the proximity to the windows in this room. I flip the light switch on the way out and pull the door closed.

Leo sits at a bar stool, a coffee mug in front of him. The kettle whistles, and I rush to remove it from the flame lest the shrill cry disturb Lina.

“I’ll bring her a glass of water. She’ll want it when she wakes.” I pause, scanning him for injury. “You’re not hurt?”

“No.” He shrugs out of his jacket, and my gaze falls to the gun holstered at his waist. I focus on pouring the glass of water. This shouldn’t surprise me. My father is a businessman. He’s not an enforcer. But I’ve heard the stories. And Leo is a part of the syndicate. He may call them an alliance, but they must be fierce if they have mafia and cartels under their domain.

In the bedroom, I find Lina passed out cold. I set the glass on the bedside table and softly retrace my steps to the kitchen.

“Can I fix you breakfast?”

Leo shakes his head and pushes the coffee away. He raps the counter with his knuckles. “Thanks for doing all this.”

“No problem. I didn’t know what to expect. I called Scarlet and asked. If you came back with severe injuries, she has a contact in London I could’ve called, but I figured you’d have your own doctor.”

“That’s what the bandages, scissors, and towels are for?”

“I followed Scarlet’s instructions. I didn’t know…you were gone for so long, and you took your gun.”

“You said you’re twenty-two. Did I miss your birthday?”

“It was over a week ago.” I move to the sink to wash my hands of the stench from Lina’s shoes.

“I was gone.” He’s speaking to himself, but I hear him.

“It’s fine. No worries.” This is an arrangement, after all.

“I stayed away to avoid temptation.” He snorts. “Lot of good that did me.”

I dry my hands and inhale deeply. That deep tone, he sounds like he’s full of regret, even though he said he has none. Does he regret helping me? Me being here? Sex?

“Come on,” he says, extending a hand. “Let’s get some shuteye.”

I take his offered hand, and we walk side by side through the living area. The sun peers above the skyscrapers and Big Ben, and there’s a haze of blue between the buildings.

He stops by the banister that overlooks the stairs and the foyer below. He releases my hand and pushes a button. There’s a low grinding of gears, a whirring mechanical sound, and the stairs fold, then the entire structure flattens against the wall, leaving us with an opening two stories below to the polished concrete floor.

“Can’t trust she won’t try to leave,” he mutters.

“She could still jump,” I say, peering over the railing in spite of the ensuing dizziness.

“She could,” he muses. “Would probably break an ankle. She won’t. Now I can sleep without worrying she’s escaped.” Pressure and warmth on my lower back snaps me out of the foggy haze and disbelief that the two flights of stairs folded into nothing, and I follow Leo back down the hall to his bedroom. “Did you move your things in here?”

“Even my toothbrush. She shouldn’t suspect anything.”

“Good.” He enters his closet and places his gun back in the drawer. “Get in bed. You’ve got to be wiped, too. You could’ve gone back to sleep, you know.”

“I didn’t know…I…You…I” I clench my hand into a fist to stop the stuttering.

“Willow, it’s okay. I went to rescue a friend’s wasted sister. It’s not warfare.”

I follow his instructions and get into bed, still wearing the leggings and oversized, long-sleeve t-shirt. We’ve been intimate, but I don’t want to get undressed, and he wants to sleep, anyway.

The mattress dips with his weight. He adjusts the comforter then tugs me across the bed until I’m nestled against his body.

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