Page 35 of His Angel

Ishove the glass door shut behind me, stepping out on the deck.

Leandra leans against the rail, sage dress rippling in the breeze, dark hair whipping loose around her shoulders like a storm’s edge.

My hand drags through my hair, sweat slicking my palm, and I pace—three steps, turn—burning off the itch under my skin.

“What was that about, Leandra?”

“My concern for you.” She doesn’t look back, grips the railing, knuckles whitening as the wind tugs at her.

“Your concern for me has you snapping at the woman I love?”

This makes her turn, green eyes slicing into me. “You love her?”

“With everything I am.”

“Then why are you lying to her?”

I balk, frowning, her question filling my gut with concrete. “I’m protecting her.”

“If it were purely for her protection, you would have told her already.” Leandra frowns. “Unless…you’re afraid you’ll lose her.”

“Of course I’m afraid of that,” I snap and hold my arms out wide. “Why else would I go to these extremes to protect her?”

Leandra stares at me, like she knows exactly how my mind works, what storm is raging inside me. And she probably does, because no one knows me as well as she does. Not even my brothers.

“I love her, Leandra.”

The words hang between us, echoing in the sea's roar below. A gull caws, piercing through the silence, a momentary distraction before Leandra speaks. “There is nothing as powerful, consuming…and destructive as a Del Rossa’s love.”

I smirk. “You would know.”

“I would.” She smiles. “Loving your brother changed my life. Being loved by him nearly ruined it.”

“I know. I was there, remember?” I point at the scar under my jaw. “Have the mark to prove it.”

There’s a flash of vulnerability in her eyes as I stoke the memory. Alexius beat the shit out of me that day. I was consoling his pregnant wife, comforting her because he was too much of a jackass to do it himself. My brother went apeshit, his jealousy spilling into a rage that almost killed me and nearly destroyed her.

Her hand lifts, brushing my arm, light but sure, the way she’s done so many times before whenever I thought the dark would swallow me. And I pull her close, my arms around her, pressed against my chest like I’ve done all the times she felt alone. When shewasalone, Alexius’ life hanging by a thread.

“You’re coiled,” she says, voice low, threading through the waves’ roar, not accusing, just knowing. “Too coiled.”

I snort. “No shit. Apparently, Del Rossa men do that a lot when it comes to the women we love.”

She steps back, shooting me a half-smile, quick and private, the one she’s always kept for me. Not Alexius’ wife. Not the polished queen. Just Leandra. The woman who has her own insecurities. That’s what makes our relationship so special. So…unique. It’s not romantic. It’s not sexual. It just…is.

The wind snags her hair again, tossing it across her face, and she sweeps it back, eyes meeting mine, searching like she’s prying me open.

“What is she doing to you?” Her tone stays steady, but her fingers flex, fear flickering.

“She’s mine,” I reply. “That’s what.”

“I’m sorry.” She turns toward the ocean, gaze stretching far. “I had no right to speak to her that way.”

“No. You didn’t.” I step in next to her, staring out in the same direction. “But I get it.”

“This is such a dangerous game you’re playing with the Paladino family.”

“I’m well aware.”

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