Page 19 of His Deadly Lies

Mia sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “They’re my father’s friends, and I use the term loosely. They’re just keeping an eye on me.” She looks as though she’s swallowing a nasty pill when she continues with, “Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of them.”

Security detail for an unwilling woman.

It hits me like a bag full of bricks. Mia Balestra is not some minor weakness to the Balestra empire. She is a huge weakness.

I spare a final look at her chart before returning it to the wall. “Seems to me you’ll be going soon enough,” I tell her. And definitely not a vegetable, either.

“Sure. Yes. That’s what you all said the last time I asked,” she retorts.

“And we’ll continue to say it until you’re discharged,” I say, annoyed. “Maybe it’s better they keep you tied up here for your own good.”

Much to my surprise, she doesn't balk at my tone. Instead, she lets out a delicate snort of laughter. If something like a snort can ever be described as delicate. “Cute. At least you’ve got a sense of humor. Unlike the last fool who came at me with a needle.” She points to the side of her neck. “You people excel at sneak attacks. I can learn a thing or two.”

She can’t see my expression through the mask, but a smile flickers across my lips regardless. “Don't underestimate my power to hide needles on my person, Miss Balestra.”

“Unless you’ve got one hidden in your pee hole, I think you’re running out of options, sir.”

I bark out a laugh. “There are always options if you want it bad enough,” I tell her. My voice drops low, and I have to shake my head, clear my throat, and get it the fuck together. “And it’s good to see you haven’t lost your own sense of humor with your hit-and-run incident.”

Mia whips her head around to me, but when she speaks again, her voice remains cultured and cool. “Is that what it says on my chart?” She draws her knees up to her chest, the sheet over her legs slipping and showing me skin. “That I was involved in a hit and run? How delightful.”

Bruised skin. She must have taken one fucking hell of a hit to her leg and thigh for the skin to turn an angry shade of mottled purple.

“Are you trying to tell me there’s more to the story?” I saunter closer to her and shove my hands in the pocket of the borrowed scrubs to keep them to myself. She might have taken a hit, but the bruising isn’t enough to disguise the muscle tone on those long legs.

The kind of legs made to wrap around a man.

“Nothing you need to know,” she bites out.

“I’m sure you’re not used to anyone questioning you. I’ve heard your attitude is similar to a brick wall.”

“Care to find out?” She flashes white teeth at me.

“I think I already have.”

It’s too easy to stand there bantering back and forth with her, and it's enjoyable that she doesn't know who I am. The anonymity isn’t something I’m accustomed to. I’m willing to bet she’s not, either.

“Trust me, friend, you haven’t seen anything yet. Those two can tell you.” She gestures with her nose to the men at the door.”

“Your friends?” I emphasize the last word.

“With friends like them…” she purposely trails off and leaves me to fill in the blank.

I take an unwilling step forward, not sure what to do with myself but unwilling to leave. Not a vegetable, no. A spitfire. “Would you rather they serenade you with show tunes?”

“I’d rather they shove their heads up their asses and try out for the circus,” Mia retorts.

For some reason, I’m unable to keep my laughter to myself this time. “You know, Princess, someone should teach you a better way to use that mouth. Foul language leads to one of two things.”

She turns to face me slowly. “I suppose you’re going to tell me something cliche about how you’re the man to do it?” she asks. She studies me. “I hardly think you’re the man to give me that lesson.”

Are we sure she’s a virgin?

The sultriness, blatant and open, takes me back.

Even though she’s insulting me on some level.

“I’m the kind of man who doesn’t back away from the hard lessons. Are you sure there are no broken bones from your accident? Did you put up a fight?” Against all better judgment, I get closer until my knees hit the end of the hospital bed. “I better take a look.”

---