Page 27 of Stranded with My Mafia Boss

Oh,geez. It felt like someone had beaten me all over. Despite wanting to burrow deeper into the covers, I opened my eyes. I was on the couch with a blanket tucked carefully around me. The lights were dimmed, though I there was gentle tapping to my right. I slid my gaze in that direction, not wanting to move my head.

Damien sat in an armchair, using the end table as an improved desk, his laptop open. As if my open eyes were a signal, he looked up from his work.

This wasn’t the first time I’d woken, but it was the first time I was up to walking or talking. Or moving at all. A more immediate need beckoned, though. I pushed at the covers.

"What do you need?" he asked, rising and steadying me as I swung my legs to sit up. "Can I help?"

"Bathroom," I said, strangely embarrassed. After all we’d done, I was still self-conscious about being in my underwear. Wait, I was wearing underwear? Someone must have done laundry. Surely not Damien. Ha.

With his help, I made the round trip safely, and once I was back on the couch, he offered me tablets and water.

"Painkillers," he said in answer to my questioning glance.

I downed them, hoping they would work fast. So many muscle aches. I was such an idiot.

Those piercing blue eyes studied me, searching for any signs of distress. "How are you feeling?"

"I'll live." I gingerly stretched, wincing at the ache in my neck and back.

Damien's hand settled on my shoulders, his touch light yet possessive. "You should eat. You’ve been sleeping for almost a day."

He spoke as though our quarrel hadn’t happened, and it had. It had happened big time.

I shook my head, grimacing at the stab of pain the motion caused. "We need to talk. I need to dress."

"Katie." His tone held a note of warning, but I ignored it. I couldn’t put this off any longer. I was so far out of my element that it was not even kind of funny.

Closing my eyes, I took a moment to compose myself. When I looked up, Damien was standing in front of me, a shirt in his hands. Before I could take it or react, he helped me into it. Oh, fine. I allowed it.

It was better to save my energy for the real issues, not this one. The consideration only made the ache in my chest worse. This ache no painkiller would touch.

While he’d saved my life, I couldn’t forget he’d shown me that he didn't care about what was important to me. Knowing Damien, there would be no apology for what he had done.

I was tired, and sad, and just wanted this conversation over with.

When I was fully dressed, I lifted my chin and met his gaze. "Thank you for coming and getting me. You saved me, and I fully recognize how much of an idiot I was for leaving. That doesn’t mean the other important things have changed. They haven’t."

Damien stared at me for a long moment. I resisted the urge to fidget, keeping my stance firm.

Finally, he spoke. "We’ll have this discussion after you’ve eaten and drunk, then. You expended a lot of energy."

The Christmas decorations made the room look so warm and inviting. I sighed. "Fine."

Damien brought me coffee and toast. The familiar aroma helped settle my nerves, at least.

After a few sips, I set down my mug and arched an eyebrow at Damien. He was watching me closely, that unreadable expression on his face. It was now or never.

"This can’t work," I said quietly as I set the plate on the coffee table. My fingers twisted in my lap, nerves warring with determination. "I'm devoted to my brother. To Max. You ignored that. You manipulated me in a lot of ways, and I can’t forget that either."

Damien's jaw tightened, but he remained silent. I rushed on before I lost my nerve, or he interrupted.

This was the scary part. "I'm afraid to even say this, I know how, um, how yourbusinesshandles these things, but I can't work for you anymore, not after everything that’s happened." I swallowed a gulp of coffee. "I hope you can understand and trust I will keep your business to myself."

The silence stretched. When I finally dared to peek up at Damien again, his eyes were shuttered. He’d turned cold.

I sat very still, half-expecting an explosion of anger, but he only regarded me in silence. The moment lasted forever, seconds ticking into minutes until I started to squirm in my seat.

Damien rose, stepped to my side, and knelt beside my chair, head bowed. I stared at him, stunned. What was he doing?

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