Page 29 of The Devil's Pawn

“Oh, you know.” He winces as I unwrap the shirt from his arm and find the hole has stopped bleeding. “The ones I’ll spend my nights with when you’re long gone, sipping cocktails in Maui while I die from missing you.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, okay.” I hand the shirt to one of his men. “You? Lonely? I find that hard to believe.”

“You’re a hard woman to replace, Raquel Bianchi.” He looks deeply into my eyes. “I can already tell.”

I’m so used to him teasing me, but I’m shocked to find no humor in those words, nor his gaze. He means it.

“Well, you’ll have to learn to go on without me, Dante Cavaleri.”

“Ouch. You’re an awful, awful woman.”

“The worst,” I tease. “Now, come on. Get up. Let’s go to the sink.”

He stands, moving with me, his bare skin and hard muscles a sight I can’t enjoy under the circumstances.

“I don’t think I’ll have a hard time replacing you, though,” I tell him with a quirk of my lips as I remove a bottle of saline solution from my bag.

“Wow. You’re really trying to kick a man when he’s already down.” He rests his forearm right at the edge of the sink.

“It’s what I do best.” I crack a smile, spilling half the bottle of saline over his shoulder and making sure it’s clean before I examine him for any bullet fragments.

He sits back down on the chair as I grab some forceps.

“This is gonna hurt,” I warn.

“Baby, nothing could hurt quite as bad as that mouth of yours giving me shit while I’ve got a hole the size of Texas.”

“It’s not that big,” I scoff playfully. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get it.”

His grin deepens, and I have an insane urge to kiss him.

“Are you ready?” I swallow down my growing attraction, moving the forceps toward his arm and placing my other palm on his wrist.

He nods once, then I begin.

“Shit,” he hisses as the metal meets his flesh.

“Remember this pain the next time you play Rambo.”

He groans, flexing his jaw, and I can feel his eyes on me. His gaze is so dark and warm, I have to steady my pulse to concentrate.

I continue working, making sure there’s nothing inside. And there isn’t. I stitch him up and apply some gauze before wrapping the wound.

“You’ll need antibiotics. Where do you plan on getting those?” I glare at him.

“I know a guy who knows a guy.” His mouth curves into a smile as he takes a seat back on the chair.

“This isn’t funny, Dante. You’d better get them, or you could develop a serious infection.”

He looks at one of his men behind me and jerks his head to the side. They march out on command, and once they’re gone, his gaze seductively slinks from my face down to the curve of my hips before riding back up.

“Come here, baby.” He pats his lap, his eyes eagerly drinking me in.

“Uh…” My brows slam upward. “There’s absolutely no way I’m sitting on you.”

“Wanna bet?”

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