Page 19 of Tainted Obsession 1
More proof that he isn’t worthy of her.
Her slender fingers are knotted in my shirt, her arms locked tight around my torso. I place my hands over hers and urge her to let go with a firm squeeze. Her chest heaves against my back, her breath stuttering. She must be confused and scared right now. I’ll protect the fragile little butterfly from further harm.
“Let go,farfallina.” I tug her grasping fingers free from my shirt. She doesn’t fight me. “Good girl.”
I remove the helmet from her blonde head, and her platinum hair shines under the streetlights: a beacon, a target.
I scoop her up in my arms and rush her inside. I barely relax as the bulletproof glass doors close behind us. Two armed guards greet me with familiar nods, not commenting on my precious cargo, despite their curious looks. I tug her closer to my chest, shooting them both a warning glower.
No one will touch her but me.
“Where are we?” she asks in a shaky whisper as I press the button to call the elevator.
“Somewhere safe.”
Her brow furrows. “Like a safe house?”
My muscles tense for a moment, so I force my arms to relax around her. I don’t want to intimidate her with my strength.
She must think I’m associated with law enforcement. I suppose that makes some sort of sense, given my presence at the bar and in the alley outside her apartment just now. She’s probably trying to rationalize my behavior in her fear-addled mind.
All that matters is that she sees me as her protector. As long as she doesn’t try to run away from me, I can keep her safe without scaring her. I’ll prevent her from leaving this building if I have to, but I don’t want to add to her terrible ordeal tonight.
“You’re safe with me,” I reply smoothly: the absolute truth.
The elevator ascends to the fifth floor, where my suite is located. Duarte is an excellent host, and he’s made sure to provide my friends and me with lavish accommodations while we work out the finer details of our business arrangement. Evelyn will be safe and comfortable here.
My friends. Shit.
I have no idea how Gian and Enzo will react to her presence. I haven’t told the brothers about my obsession with George Crawford’s fiancée. They probably won’t like it.
Luckily, they aren’t in the suite when I step inside with Evelyn cradled in my arms.
They’ll return eventually and discover us together, but I can’t worry about that now. She’s all that matters.
I don’t want to release her yet, but she shifts against me. She seems uncomfortable that I’m still holding her despite the fact that we’re safe from imminent danger.
Reluctantly, I set her down on her feet, but I can’t bring myself to break contact. My hands skim her upper arms, steadying her as she finds her balance on shaky legs. Her creamy skin is so soft against my rough callouses. It pebbles beneath my touch, and I’m not sure if that’s a lingering fear response, or if she’s as viscerally affected by our physical connection as I am.
Her light green eyes are wide on mine. When we were at the bar earlier, she must’ve darkened her blond lashes with mascara, but I find her lovely like this: pure and perfect. She glows like some ethereal creature, a tempting angel I want to ravage.
I trail my palms down the length of her slender arms, loving the feel of her delicate body. My fingers brush over wet fabric at her side, and fear punches through me.
A red stain mars the oversized white t-shirt that swallows her fragile frame.
Evelyn is injured. The sight of blood soaking her side freezes the breath in my lungs.
I fist the cotton material in both hands and rip it open, desperate to check the damage and do what I can to stop the bleeding.
She gasps and tries to step away from me. “What are you doing?”
I palm the smaller crimson patch on her pink camisole that she’s wearing under the t-shirt. She doesn’t cry out in pain when I apply pressure to the wound.
In fact, there is no wound.
My own side is burning, a familiar discomfort. This isn’t the first time I’ve been grazed by a bullet.
She’s covered in my blood. It must’ve soaked her shirt while she clung to me on the bike.
