Page 4 of Fierce Protector

I’ve spent years keeping my distance, but she’s rarely been far from my thoughts since that night, hidden in the darkness of the wedding venue's grounds. I’ve tried to forget how she felt in my arms, how sweet she tasted, but honestly, sometimes it’s all I can think about. The only thing that has stopped me from turning up on her doorstep before now is knowing I’m wrong for her. Even if her father wasn’t my best friend, she’s too good for me and I’m too old for her.

When her car pulls into the driveway, I stop staringinto the shine on my Oxfords and lift my gaze. She pulls up next to my town car but doesn’t get out. I can see her hard glare through the windscreen, and if I know her half as well as I think I do, she’s readying herself for an argument. A smile teases the corner of my mouth. I shouldn’t enjoy getting a reaction out of her, but I do.So very much. If there’s one thing that makes my day, it’s seeing her quick wit and sharp tongue in action, even when I’m on the receiving end of it.

Doctor Katerina Mancini has always been a force to be reckoned with. She’s never been the type of woman to accept help from anyone. Everything she has she’s earned for herself, in spite of her upbringing and connections, not because of them. I respect the hell out of her for it. The minute she qualified, she could have left and worked anywhere, but she chose to stick by the family. Her only condition was that she reported to no one. She would get an independent life and career but would be on-call to the Bianchi family whenever she was needed. Her request was a no-brainer.

That doesn’t mean she’s alone, though. Her father being a capo means she’s always been under our protection. At one point or another, she’s dug a bullet out of or stitched up half the fucking foot soldiers. She’s one of us and there’s no way we’d tolerate a threat to her safety.

If she wants to fight over this stalker business, then so be it. But like fuck am I going to let her put herself at risk.

There’s a soft snick as she pops the handle before she shoves the door open. The clack of her heels on the red bricks punctuates her irate march towards me. I grab thehandrail and haul myself up. It’s only my being on the first step that gives me a half a foot on her.

“Jesus, how do you work all day in those heels?” I say disapprovingly, but it morphs into something more admiring as my eyes start to wander up the length of her stocking-clad calves. I shake my head to snap myself out of it when her tight black pencil skirt obstructs my view.

Get it together, you lecherous asshole.She’s Dante’s daughter.Even if she wasn’t fourteen years my junior, Dante would gut me if he caught me ogling his baby girl.

She folds her arms, cocks a hip, and taps the toe of her shiny black heels, drawing my attention to the ground again. “Yes, Stefano. I totter around the OR in my Jimmy Choo’s, hoping that the litres of blood I’m often covered in won’t splatter my Mary Janes.” I don’t need to look up to hear the eye roll in her tone. She tries to barge past me and looks almost disappointed when I step to the side to let her pass. It’s as if she wanted to body-check me.

It shouldn’t appeal to me when she acts like a brat, but my dick disagrees. It feels like she’s been teasing my cock with her snark for years. Which is one of the many reasons I find it so difficult to be around her.

She’s through the door and kicking her heels off before I get a chance to respond. She abandons her stuff in a crumpled heap and makes a beeline into the kitchen.

“I assume I’m not getting rid of you until you’ve said your piece, right?” she shouts over her shoulder as I close the front door. I can’t help but add her shoes to the rack and hang up her coat on the hooks. “Whiskey or wine, old man?” she shouts.

“Whiskey, neat,” I holler back, taking a second to stare at my reflection in her hallway mirror. I straighten my collar and spend a moment too long distracted by the dusting of grey at my temples. Cupboard doors bang and glasses clink from the kitchen. Throwing my shoulders back and fixing a stern glare on my face, I follow the sounds of her not-so-subtle strop to the kitchen. It seems she’s not the only one that needs to prepare for battle.

I roll my eyes when I notice the ice she’s added to my drink, but I refuse to let her rile me. I grab the glass off the counter and take a long draught, letting the rich amber liquid restore me as I swallow it down. Her eyes follow the motion and drop to my neck as if she’s watching my Adam’s apple bob with each gulp. I can’t help but play up to her attention, loosening my tie and unbuttoning my collar, seeing how long I can keep her gaze on my body.

I smile when she bites into her plump bottom lip, but I’m left feeling disappointed when she snaps herself out of her little ogling session. Her eyes find mine and the hard glare returns. I place the glass down on the counter; rattling ice the only sound while I take a moment to gather my thoughts, running my hands over my face before pulling up a stool and leaning forwards on the countertop.

“I’ve had the worst fucking day, Katerina.” My candour seems to take her by surprise and her expression softens. “I imagine as terrible a day as you had when Zo brought you in to treat Aurora.”

“Yeah. I’m not going to lie. Having to treat the wounds Max inflicted on her was…” her voice is barely above a whisper, and she crumples, grabbing a stool and sinking into it, “difficult.”

Difficult seems like such an inadequate word in this situation. The injuries I saw on Aurora this afternoon were far worse than I could have imagined. Over the years, I’ve seen my men succumb to far less. I dread to think what Aurora looked like a few days ago when Katerina first treated her.

“I know she looks bad, Stef, but why are you ready to tear me a new one for doing my job?”

Before answering, I grab my glass and toss the ice into the sink, reach for the bottle of whiskey, and pour myself another two fingers.

“I’m not here to shout at you for looking after her. You fucking saved her when it seems all anyone else has done is let her down.” I pause, swallowing my whiskey in one large glug. I straighten up on the stool and turn to face her, attempting to channel a calmness I don’t truly feel. “I’m here to find out why the fuck you’re not taking a stalker fucking seriously? And why the fuck your father doesn’t know about this. Because I know for damn sure if he did, he’d have already had me looking into this.”

A glimmer of guilt washes over her features, but it’s swiftly quashed when she matches her posture to mine and squares off against me.

“I see. You’re here because Nico’s been telling tales on me?”

Without giving me a chance to respond, she hops down from her stool and storms out of the kitchen, but I’m not letting her walk away from me. She needs to hear what I have to say because I won’t have her puttingherself at risk. I grasp her forearm, spinning her to face me, and march her back until she’s pressed against the hallway wall. My pulse quickens as I grip her biceps and our gazes lock in a heated standoff, while her ragged breaths buffer against my cheek, making my cock stir. A groan of pleasure threatens to rumble in the back of my throat, but I swallow it down.

“Will you calm-the-fuck-down and talk to me, you infuriating woman?” I say with an exasperated rasp. Her expression hardens and her body tenses in my hold as her temper rises to meet mine, the air becoming heavy as our gazes smoulder.

“Fuck you, Stef. I’m a grown woman and I can handle a workplace crush without having to call in the cavalry.”

“I am not the fucking cavalry. You’re supposed to keep thefamilyinformed of any threat to your safety, and you know it. That’s part of the deal. If you work for us, we protect you.”

“Oh my god, you’re being ridiculous. I didn’t tell anyone because it’s not a big deal. It’s nothing. It’s a crush and a few notes left in my locker. It’s basically high school level nonsense.” She rails against me, her body writhing and drawing every urge I’ve tried to suppress to the surface. I force myself to loosen my grip, but I don’t move away. I stay pressed up against her, drawn to her like I’m snared by a siren’s song.

“If it’s so harmless, why does Nico, of all the heartless bastards we know, think it’s important enough to tell me about it, Katerina?”

“Because apparently, he’s as much of an old woman as you. Now let me the fuck go. Right now.” Planting herpalms on my chest, she shoves me. From the frown that clouds her expression, it’s obvious she was expecting to be able to escape easily. Not fucking likely. I may be forty-eight, but that doesn’t mean I’m not built like a brick wall.

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