“Never,” I swear before the darkness swallows me.
36
That bastard’s crusty hand left my face bruised.
My lip has a cut, too.
But that’s nothing compared to Domenico’sinjuries.
The private doctors that operated on him said he’slucky. He lost a lot of blood from the gunshot and has a concussion andscarring from the blast, but he’ll be all right. Not bad for a man known as thebringer of death.
Domenico’s been unconscious for two days now. Ihaven’t left his side since they brought us back to the Martelli residence.
I’m looking out the window, enjoying the radiantsunshine and the ancient sites when I hear him groan.
My pulse spikes, and I pivot from the window.
Domenico’s eyes are fluttering.
Hurrying over, I hold his hand on the bed. “Nico…”
His mesmerizing sepia gaze opens fully, and hesmiles at me. “Tesoro.”
I snort. “How are you feeling? Any pain? Do youwant me to get the doctor?”
He turns his head on the pillow and gives my handa gentle squeeze. “I’m all right. I only want you.”
Thinking about everything that happened and how hepushed through his pain to save me brings tears to my eyes.
“Thank you,” I choke up. “You saved my life.”
Domenico reaches to my cheek, wiping the tear withhis thumb. “I love you, Solari. I’d give my life for you.”
I shake my head in awe. “I love you too, Domenico.I understand now more than ever what my dad saw.”
He pinches his brows.
“I’ll explain another time.” Then I lower for asoft and sensual kiss.
Knocking brings our sweet moment to an end.
Francesca enters, their parents behind her.
“Nico,” Mrs. Martelli exhales in relief, comingover to brush his forehead. “Graziedio.”
“Madre, nonpiangere.I’m all right.”
She sniffles and presses a kiss on his cheek.
“You gave us a scare,” Francesca tearfully scolds,hugging herself. She mumbles, “Un talepazzo.”
Domenico snorts. “Forgive me, sister.”
She clucks her tongue and dips her head, dryingher eyes. “I forgive you.”
He cuts to his father.
Mr. Martelli utters a long exhale, leaving hisexpression to speak his heart.