Page 63 of Heartless Vows

Several minutes later, with research completed and a plan solidified, I send Fiero a few texts before stalking out to the garage.

We left every door open between the kitchen and the vehicle—including the driver’s door—and Aurora’s lacy black panties hang off the edge of the seat. I pocket the scrap of material and give the inside of the car a quick wipe down before closing up and heading inside.

With a cup of coffee in each hand, I ascend the stairs and set one on the bedside table before retreating to the corner chair to watch her sleep.

Thirty minutes later, I wake Aurora and offer her the coffee. She shakes her head and pushes it away with an adorable scowl.

“I can’t drink coffee or tea,” she says.

My senses sharpen at her use of the word can’t instead of don’t, but her mussed hair and sleepy eyes steal my attention. She looks too kissable and soft in her disheveled and slightly confused state. I fight the urge to pin her to the bed and have my way with her.

Guilt clears my thoughts as she rubs her face with her hands in obvious exhaustion.

“How about some orange juice?” I ask.

She grimaces and rubs her temple before nodding and murmuring a polite,“Yes, please.”

“Do you have a headache?”

She shrugs.

“I don’t think so? Just tired and maybe a little dizzy.”

I drop to my knees beside the bed and push her hair back so I can study her face. The pallor of her skin worries me.

“What can I get you?”

She blinks and trails her fingers over my face as though she needs to confirm I’m actually beside her.

“Orange juice sounds good,” she whispers.

It’s too much. I steal a quick kiss before forcing myself toward the door.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

The sheets rustle. I turn as she swings her feet to the floor. As I open my mouth to admonish her, she pushes off the bed and stands, only to crumple like an accordion.

I dart across the room and catch her before she hits the floor. Terror and adrenaline flood my veins as I gather her limp frame into a cradle hold and sit on the bed.

She jerks awake and tries to sit up, but I snarl and tighten my arms around her.

“Be still,mia topolina, and let me hold you for a minute.”

After getting her bearings, she sighs and leans against me. I study her for a few minutes as my panic slowly recedes.

She’s not a scrawny preteen anymore, but having her flop around in my arms triggered memories of the day she passed out in front of me.

“I’m okay. I just stood up too fast.”

“Does this happen often?”

“No, but can you blame me for needing a system reboot after what you did to me?”

The cheeky mirth shining from her eyes assures me she isn’t on death’s doorstep, but she’s still too pale for my liking.

“I need to pee. Like, now,” she insists.

I carry her into the bathroom and wait outside the water closet before scooping her up again.

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