Page 50 of Dangerous King
Julio shrugs like it's nothing. "You want him to live, right?"
I glance down at the little black bundle curled in my arms. Shadow. He's already snoring. I nod. "Yeah. I really do."
"Then listen to what I say," Julio smirks. "You'll be fine. He already likes you."
Enrico watches me silently. He doesn't say a word, but the way his gaze lingers on me sends a chill down my spine, hot and slow and dangerous.
Julio claps his hands. "Alright. I'll grab the meds and a crate."
He disappears into the hallway, leaving me alone with Enrico and the sleeping puppy.
The next morning…
The hallway is still, cloaked in that blue-gray hush just before sunrise. I move without sound, trained steps soft over the polished floor. Her door is closed but not locked. I turn the knob and open it, slow and quiet, and slip inside.
The puppy's snore is a soft, high-pitched hum from the bed, where he's all snuggled up in her arms. He perks up the moment he hears me, blinking blearily before giving a little yip.
"Shh," I murmur, crouching over the bed. "You're going to wake her."
Shadow squirms out of her arms; a low growl emanates from him. I chuckle, "You're feistier than I thought." I cradle himunder one arm like he's a football and then straighten, ready to turn and slip out?—
I hesitate, my eyes drift back to the bed, where Cat lies tangled in the blankets, one arm flung over her head, hair a dark spill across the pillow. Her mouth is slightly open. She looks so peaceful and so damn vulnerable.
Also, so fucking young.
Too young.
And not just in the way her skin glows or how her lashes fan across her cheeks. It's in the way shesleeps,like someone who hasn't been ruined yet. Like someone who still has dreams no one's crushed. She's nineteen. A baby, by my standards.
I've seen things she can't imagine. Done things she wouldn't understand.
Hell, I'm thirty. When she was learning how to drive, I was already running guns through ports her father signed off on. I shouldn't even be entertaining these thoughts in my head, not about her. Not with that soft little sigh she just made, or the curve of her hip peeking out from under the blanket like some kind of goddamn test I'm about to fail. But I can't help it.
Something about her calls to me. Not just her body. It's herfight. Her steel. The way she looks at me like she sees the worst of me, and still doesn't run. She doesn't know it, but she's dangerous.
Because if I let myself have her, even once… I won't ever be able to let her go.
I hate how that makes something in my chest tighten. I've looked at beautiful women my whole life. Dated them. Fucked them. Disposed of them. Catalina shouldn't be any different.
But she is.
She's different in every way that matters, and every way that shouldn't.
The Giordanos used her like a pawn. A pretty doll to blackmail her father. Just a girl. No power. No voice.
And now she's in my house. Not like that, but still. She shouldn't be here. Not with me.
My fingers flex against the warm bundle under my arm. The pup wriggles again, as if annoyed by my stillness. I tear my gaze away from her. It's like pulling free of something sticky and deep.
She doesn't belong to this world. She's not carved from the same jagged stone the rest of us are. She flinches when men raise their voices. Cries when no one's looking. Smiles at broken things, like she doesn't know better.
She's not for me.
And I'm not for her.
But God help me, I want to be.
Just for a moment. Just long enough to press my hand against her cheek and feel that softness up close. To see if her lips taste as innocent as they look.
