Page 9 of Dangerous King
"They'll only be looking for me," she suddenly, vehemently says, "climb up higher, they won't look for you."
Now my eyes swim, and I have to blink the tears back. I hug her close, wondering if she can possibly know what her words, her concern, mean to me. Stubbornly, I shake my head. "No way."
"You don't even know me," she pleads.
"Doesn't matter. I'm sick of living in fear. If this ends here, tonight, so be it." I mean it, too. Every word. I want this to be over with one way or another. Not even the threat to my family deters me anymore. There comes a point in life where enough is just enough, and I've reached it. I don't know what happened, but I think it has something to do with Roberto calling me amouse. Of all the things the Giordano's have done to me, including taking one of my fingers, somehow this is the worst. Or the last drop. I'm not sure. It really doesn't matter, anyway. I only hope my family will forgive me, because that's the only hope I have left. There is no doubt in my mind that Giovanni will make good on his promise of killing them. But tonight, something inside me changed, or woke up, and I realize that all this time we've been living on borrowed time. I'd briefly hoped that something good would come out of it, like saving Izzy, but that doesn't seem to be going to happen either.
A third shot increases the dogs' frenzy. Izzy and I cling to each other, scared to death, sisters in our fate and fear.
Suddenly, a whistle pierces the night, and a man's voice shouts, "Go home!"
"Enrico." Izzy sits up straighter, her face filled with hope.
I want to ask her who Enrico is, but my words freeze as the dogs fall silent, and, one by one, they slink off. I follow her gaze. And seehim. Enrico, undoubtedly. He steps out of the shadows like he owns them. The night doesn't hide him; it unleashes him. He wears black from head to toe, and his presence creates a fluttering inside my stomach that is alien, yet carries a hint of familiarity. The floodlights skim across the sharp lines of his face, catching on the hard cut of his jaw and the lethal glint in his expression. He doesn't move like a man. He moves like adangerous king.
My breath catches. Not just in relief, but in something darker, deeper. A heat that curls in my stomach and dares to move lower.
"Are you girls going to spend all night up there, or do you want to come down?" His voice rolls over me, so deep it feels like it was made to be obeyed.
Izzy yells his name, "Enrico!" and launches herself off the branch before I can stop her. She jumps without hesitation—without fear—and lands right in his arms. How could she have been so sure he wouldn't drop her?
His hold is solid. Effortless. He catches her like she weighs nothing, wraps her into him, and presses a kiss to the top of her head. He looks so relieved, a jolt of envy moves through me, intensified by the way she melts into his chest. Sheer, undiluted desire rises inside me. How I wish someone would hold me like that.
At the same time, I'm incredibly happy for her. She's safe. After all, that's what I wanted. Still, I'm clinging to the tree, staring at them, frozen. Now that he's closer, I see him more clearly. He's massive, but it's not just his size. It's in the aura of power that surrounds him, his still composure. The kind of quiet that follows men like him into a room and makes everyone else instinctively shut the hell up.
His features are harsh. A crooked nose splits a face that was probably carved from stone; it's a bit too sharp to be classically handsome, but it's striking in a way that makes it impossible to look away. His eyes are black like the night sky; they're unreadable and appear unforgiving.
I realize this is a man who doesn't ask. He takes.
It becomes terrifyingly clear to me that what I want him to take isme.
Izzy slides down his body, and his muscles bulge underneath his jacket. He presses Izzy to him and places another kiss on top of her head in open, unrestricted affection.
"Izzy," his voice cracks with pain. It's obvious he cares for her. His eyes scan her from head to toe; his frown deepens at the sight of blood clinging to one side of her face. What would it be like to have a man like him care for me? I can't even remember the last time someone hugged me. I think it might have been Flora, the last housekeeper. She used to sneak me food sometimes, too. She's been gone two years, just disappeared one day. I never dared ask what happened to her.
"You came for me." She sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you."
"We'll talk about that—and your punishment—later; let's get you home first, eh, mi amore?"
A shudder moves through me. I know all about punishments. I can't abide the thought of him hurting her. Without thinking, I jump from the branch, landing in a crouch at his feet.
"Don't hurt her." The words tear out of me before I even register the weight of them. My knees sting from the landing, my palms press into the ground for balance, but I don't care. I'm not thinking, I'm just driven by the same instinct to keep her safe that has been driving me since I heard her silent sobs.
He turns his gaze on me slowly. Those black eyes lock with mine, and the air around us thickens. For one terrible second, I think I've made a mistake. That I've crossed a line I didn't even see. But he doesn't explode, he cocks his head and studies me. Quietly and intently. Like I'm a puzzle he didn't know he wanted to solve. A small tick by his mouth indicates suppressed amusement. In a rough voice, he asks, "Who is your friend, Izzy?"
"That's Cat, Catalina. She saved me."
He arches a well-groomed brow at me. "Is that so?"
Izzy nods adamantly. "She did. She has to come with us. They'll kill her."
His face hardens, the protective edge flaring like a blade unsheathed. "I'll deal with the men who dared take you," he says in an ice-cold voice that leaves no room for doubt about what he'll do to the Giordanos.
I swallow hard under his intense stare. I want to crawl into a corner, hide, and pray nobody pays attention to me, but then myspine straightens. No, I left that girl behind. I'm not going to be that cowardlymouseany longer. I gather my courage, which is rekindling after discovering it wasn't Giovanni's men who found us, but him.
"I mean it," I whisper, still on the ground. "I know what punishment means. Don't hurt her."
"I would never hurt her," Enrico says.
