Page 48 of Rafa's Convenient Wife

At the last moment, he shifted and managed to sneak in a real kiss. She giggled as he claimed her mouth, and he relished the taste of her. She slipped her hand along his chest, stroking lovingly, and her smile promised a night neither would soon forget.

“I think Jasper will sleep through the night,” Sky said hopefully, moving closer so he could hear her over the music andraucous crowd. “His ears have been so much better, and we kept him busy today. He had a big dinner, too.”

“We can offer him a top-up bottle,” Rafael suggested and glanced around the small crowd gathered around them. “Like the pediatrician—.”

Something caught his eye. A glint of metal. A fast movement. Something that didn’t belong.

He instinctively reached for Sky, grasping her hip to push her behind him and turning to shield Jasper.

“Gun!” Someone shouted.

“GUN!”

“Get down!”

In a blur of activity, the security guards leapt into action. A gunshot cracked, and then another and another. Someone slammed into him—probably a guard—and he stumbled into a nearby vehicle. Sky clutched at his hip and leg, guiding him toward the ground where she crouched. He pressed Jasper into her hands and covered them both with his body, hoping his back would be enough to stop any stray bullets that came flying their way.

Screams died down, and the chaos faded. He lifted his head long enough to take in the scene. Lola and Camila were only a few feet away, both on their knees by an idling car and shielded by a security guard. Dina and his mother had been pushed back toward the restaurant entrance. Two guards were on them, forming a wall.

Police officers who must have been stationed nearby ran toward the scene. More sirens wailed in the distance. People were crying now, and Rafael tried to understand what was happening. Had the shooter targeted his family or the wedding?

“Hijo de puta!” Beto’s angry voice broke through the panic. Spewing profanities, Beto straddled a man—the shooter—and beat him senseless. A handgun rested just out of reach, andpolice officers raced to secure it. Another officer tried to haul Beto off the shooter, but they weren’t strong enough to fight him.

“Rafa!” Sky shouted, her voice tinged with horror. “Rafa, the blood!”

“What?” He swung his attention back to his wife—and the color drained from his face. Blood coated her hands and stained Jasper’s outfit. Their nephew cried hysterically and pawed at Sky’s hair and neck. “Is he...? Where did he get hit?”

“No! It’s not Jasper!” Sky hurriedly handed Jasper to Lola, who had scrambled to join them. “It’s you, Rafa!” She pressed her hand to his chest, and he hissed in shock and pain. “You’ve been shot!”

“What?” He glanced down at her hand, watching the blood spurting from a wound in chest. “Oh.”

“We need an ambulance!” Sky screamed and pressed even harder against his injury. “We need help!”

“I’m fine,” he assured weakly. His thoughts were becoming a little fuzzy, and his heartbeat felt strange. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Rafael!” Sky smeared his blood on his face as she cupped his jaw. “Just hold on! Hold on!”

“Here.” Beto skidded to a halt right next to them. He shucked his blazer and balled it up before pushing it onto the wound. “Hold on, brother. An ambulance is coming.”

Realizing he was in big trouble, Rafael snatched his brother’s hand, forcing him to make eye contact. “Take them back to the house. All of them. Lock them down.”

“I’ve got it handled,” Beto promised. “Don’t worry. Just stay calm.”

It was easier said than done, especially with a hole in his chest.

“Rafael.” Sky took hold of his other hand. She gripped it tightly and then kissed his forehead. “I love you.”

“I know.” He wanted to tell her something else, something important, but he was damned tired all of a sudden. “Just need...rest...eyes.”

“Rafa? Rafa!”

Sky’s panicked shouting was the last thing he heard.

Chapter Seventeen

Even after scrubbing at the bathroom sink, Sky still had splotches of blood staining her cuticles. The sight of Rafael’s blood dried on her skin made her stomach lurch. She closed her eyes and willed away the burning tears threatening to spill down her face. She’d been crying for hours, and her eyes were puffy and sore.

“Here. Drink this.” Beto pressed a cup of coffee into her hands. “It’s not very good, but the caffeine will keep you awake.”

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