Page 120 of Dex

He gets up slowly, looking resigned.“It’s up to you.Do what you want.”

“I’m fine.The kick I gave—”

“Yes, you keep telling me how you dealt with the guy.I want to find the fucker.I want to find him and kick the shit out of him.”

I reach out, touching his arm.He’s rigid, tension twisting under his skin, anger coursing through his veins.“Don’t do that.Please don’t do that.”

His jaw tightens, but I see something in his eyes.Something that softens my heart and makes me think he really cares for me.Or is he like this with anyone?Because he’s rough and rugged, a protector by nature.Is this just who he is?Or is this because I’m his wife?

“I hate that you got hurt,” he mutters.“You’re my responsibility.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that.I understand that you can take care of yourself, but you’re my wife.”

This constant referral to me being his wife makes me sit up.“In name only,” I say, keeping my tone light and teasing.

“You said it, Daniela.In name only.”His jaw hardens.

“We’re not husband and wife, Dexter.We don’t do the things husbands and wives do.”I don’t like goading him unnecessarily, but I sense he feels things, even if he won’t admit it.He’ll be running scared for the next eleven months.I can see it, lingering just beneath the surface, that he cares for me.I need to know how deep that goes.

His eyes snap to mine.I want to break down his barriers.I want to talk to him.I want to delve into all the things he buries, the things that hurt him.I can reach into that shell where he keeps them all locked away.If only he’d let me.

But later that night, he comes into my room.Checking on me.Watching over me.

“What are you doing, Dexter?”I ask, still half-asleep, then I wake up for maybe the third time that night to find him bent over by my bed, stroking my forehead.

“Checking to see that you’re not concussed or anything.”

“I’m not.Now please, leave me alone so I can sleep.”

He slowly straightens and walks towards the door.“We can sleep in the same bed if you want,” he offers, turning around.

My eyelids fly wide open.“Will you come into my room, or shall I go to yours?”

“Any way you want.”He stands there, hovering in my doorway like a skulking beast.A man who’d kill anyone who dared to hurt me again.

I turn on the bedside lamp and wipe my hands over my face.His eyes falls to my skimpy satin tank top.Without even looking down I know my nipples have peaked.He sees it, too, because he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks away quickly.

“You want me to sleep with you?”I ask, having fun with the innuendo.This man is so guarded and emotionally shutdown, but a little light flirting might just coax him into opening up.

“I want to protect you.”

My fickle little heart lights up.So you do care?That you do have feelings for me.But I don’t say what I’m thinking, because I’ve learned my lesson.I won’t assume anything.I won’t lay my emotions bare.I try a different tactic.“You think you can protect me by sleeping with me?”

“Sharing the same bed, Daniela.There’s a difference.”

I sit up taller, rest my back against the soft headboard, watch his eyes drop to my breasts.“The mugger, or kidnapper, or beast, or mythical scary monster, isn’t going to break into this apartment and do anything to me, so, please go to sleep, in your bed, and leave me to sleep peacefully in mine.”

He drags his gaze away, mutters a “Good night,” and leaves.

But the next day, and for the few days after that, he doesn’t go to work.Instead, he stays at home with me, pacing around like some caged predator, prowling, checking on me constantly.

On the third day of him being at home.I can’t focus with him skulking around, watching me like I might fall apart at any second.“Dexter, if you don’t go to work, I will.And I’ll do it from the coffee shop where Cari has her flower stand.Near where I got mugged,” I add, for emphasis.

“Not happening.”Then he casually announces that he’s assigned a security detail to me for whenever I leave the apartment.

I sigh.“Then, I’m safe, and you can go to work again.We need to go about our lives as normal, remember?We’re married on paper only.”I could get used to this, and if I do, leaving at the end of the year will break my heart.

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