Page 54 of Fierce Protector

I don’t give either my father or my lover time to startin on each other again before I say, “I know you have a lot to work out, but I’m going to tell you both now. I’m not putting up with any more of that bullshit. I don’t want to hear it. Work it out on your own time because I’m not listening to it.”

I wiggle the fingers on both hands, and it has the desired effect. They each take one of my hands in theirs. “I’m sorry, Dad, but I’m in love with your best friend. I know that’s gotta be so fucking weird for you, but I’m not giving him up.”

My father holds my gaze, and while he doesn’t say anything out loud, I see the precise moment he concedes defeat. His stony face softens, his resistance faltering as he nods and a small reassuring smile brightens his face. My father looks across to Stefano and bows his head.

I’m too exhausted to analyse the micro expressions settling whatever silent truce they’re agreeing, but I am relieved they’re not shouting at each other anymore.

When I fail to stifle my yawn, my father places a kiss to my cheek before turning to Stefano. “You look after her, you hear me?”

“I promise, Dante,” Stefano replies like he’s swearing an oath, and it’s all I need to hear to know I’m safe and that he’ll be here when I wake.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

STEFANO

TEN DAYS LATER…

“Idon’t think you ever officially asked me to move in with you, you know?” Katerina says with a wry smile as I help her out of the car. She’s still recovering, but her doctor gave her the all clear to be discharged this morning. If she could have, she’d have sprinted out of there. She’s been climbing the walls for the last ten days. She hates being idle.

“I promised I’d marry you, that’s the same thing,” I say, kissing her forehead as she reaches her full height.

“It is-fucking-not.” Her tone is light, and she’s not wrong.

I take her hand in mine and bring it to my lips, kissing the back of it. “Katerina Mancini, will you do me the honour of making this house a home by moving inwith me?” I tilt my head, a slightly arrogant smile covering my face, knowing that there’s only one answer she’ll give me. She’s already claimed me in front of her father.

“Are you really hitting me with a dimple-laden smoulder right now? What if I want you to move into my house?” Her eyebrow quirks in a playful challenge.

“But all your stuff is here,” I say, pulling her towards my—our—front door.

“True, and I do hate moving.”

She leans in, claiming a soft kiss, and I moan when her eager tongue swipes against the seam of my lips. We lose ourselves in the moment, tongues tangling, breath ragged, and the taste of her stirring far more than my emotions.

“I would live with you anywhere you wanted, Katerina,” I whisper.

“It’s a good job I want to live here then, isn’t it,vecchietto?”

Doctors make the worst patients.It doesn’t seem to matter that hers gave her a long list of things she could and couldn’t do while she was recovering, Katerina seems to be going out of her way to ignore it and test the limits of my patience.

“Sit your ass down and let me fetch you what you need, woman.”

She sits back against the cushions and folds her arms in front of her while fixing a glare at me. She can scowl atme all she likes; it’s not going to stop me from doing everything I can to look after her.

“I’m perfectly capable of finding my e-reader without assistance.” She couldn’t sound any more contrary if she tried. Adorable little brat that she is.

“And the doctor said to take it easy and let me do the heavy lifting.”

“My e-reader isn’t heavy,” she snarks back at me.

“No, but the bag it’s in is upstairs and heavy as fuck. Keep your ass on that sofa. That’s an order.” I try to temper my frustration, but with her incision still healing, the last thing I want is for her to cause herself any further injuries.

I still feel guilty every time I catch her glancing at her scar, overcome by waves of shame that I couldn’t spare her the pain she’s suffered. What if every time she sees it, it reminds her of how I failed her?

“Fine.” She punctuates her reluctant submission by dragging the blanket from the back of the couch and flipping it over her outstretched legs.

She isn’t able to maintain the scowl when I lean over to kiss her cheek, whispering, “There’s my good girl,” in her ear. Katerina lets out the slightest of whimpers at my words, drawing out a contented low rumble from me in response.

“You make me happier than anything else in the world, baby girl. I’m going to take care of you for as long as you’ll let me.”

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