Page 50 of Dark Desires
When we step out, I hand her a towel, and she gives me a small, grateful smile. It’s fragile, and it makes something in my chest tighten. I don’t know how to fix this. Hell, I don’t even know if it can be fixed.
Twenty minutes later, we’re in my car, the city blurring past as I drive. She’s quiet, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, and I can feel her nervous energy from a mile away.
“Say it,” I say, finally breaking the silence.
She glances at me. “What?”
“Whatever it is, you’re not saying.”
My eyes stay on the road, but my voice is sharp, daring her to let it out.
She hesitates, then looks away, her gaze fixed out the window. “You know what it is.”
I grip the wheel tighter. She’s right. We haven’t talked about the impossible situation we’re in. And the truth is, I still don’t have a damn clue what to say.
What the hell am I supposed to do? Marry her cousin while she’s carrying my child? Walk away and leave her to deal with this on her own? Neither option feels right, and yet here we are, stuck between them. And then will come Domenico’s rage upon learning that his daughter is having a baby out of wedlock. With a bastard, on top of that. To be fair, his discomfort would be the only silver lining for my injured ego.
“We’ll figure it out.”
I can’t promise her much right now, but I can promise her that.
As we approach her neighborhood, I notice a sleek black sedan has been tailing us for the last few blocks. At first, I think it’s just coincidence. But when I take a turn down a side street, it follows.
My body goes on high alert. I glance in the rearview mirror again, confirming what I already know.
“We’ve got company,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
I reach over, opening the glove compartment and pulling out a pistol. The weight of it in my hand is grounding, familiar.
“Stay calm.”
Her hand flies to her stomach, a protective gesture that makes my chest tighten.
“Alexei,” she says, “tell me what’s happening.”
“Probably nothing. But I’m not taking any chances.”
The car behind us speeds up slightly, closing the gap.
“Stay low,” I tell her. “If this goes bad, you let me handle it, understand?”
She nods, her fear evident, but there’s steel in her gaze, too. Good.
I take another sharp turn, testing the sedan’s intent. It follows, sticking close. My grip tightens on the wheel, my other hand steady on the pistol. Whatever’s about to happen, I’m ready.
For her.
For our baby.
For whatever comes next.
CHAPTER 16
ISABELLA
My pulse pounds, and I can barely think straight.
