“I think I would too,” I smile to myself, finally accepting that I’m completely fucked. I don’t just admire and respect the woman in my arms. I don’t just want to protect her from harm. I don’t just have a fleeting fascination or a lustful hunger for her. I have deeper feelings. Forever feelings.
Darlene and I make it about five steps before she falters. I scoop her up and cradle her against my chest. She's shivering, yet I can feel the sweat on her forehead where she's resting it against my neck.
I don’t take her to her room. I march her straight into my bedroom and peel back the sheets, laying her down gently. She doesn’t protest or even seem to notice the fact that she’s not in her own bed. I tuck the blankets around her and slip out into the living room of my suite to call the family doctor.
“What can I do for you, boss?” Raymond asks, answering the call on the first ring. He’s compensated richly for being on call twenty-four seven for all the Moscatelli medical needs.
“My an…I mean, my housekeeper is sick.” I almost called her my angel, which is true, but I need to have that conversation with her before I go telling anyone else. “She has a high fever, and she’s in and out of consciousness. I need you here. Right fucking now.”
“Yes, boss. I’m patching up Trigger – nothing serious. A little gun mishap. He’s not called Trigger Happy for no reason, right?” The old man coughs out a laugh, but I’m in no mood. I’m pissed that the dipshit, low-level soldier needs medical care tonight of all nights.
“I don’t care if he’s fucking bleeding out. Get over here. Now.”
“Yes, boss,” Raymond says again, all joking gone from his tone this time. “I’m on the south side of the city. It’ll be twenty minutes before I can get there.”
“Goddamnit!” I grit out. I would have screamed it, but the last thing I want to do is startle my angel.
I know Raymond wants to ask what the big deal is. Under normal circumstances, I’m sure a gun wound ranks higher than a fever on the list of medical emergencies, but I don’t fucking care. Darlene needs a doctor and I’ll be damned if she doesn’t get one as soon as possible.
“I’ll be there as fast as I can. I’m leaving now,” he stutters out, clearly winded from rushing out to his vehicle. “You should try to get her to take a cool bath or shower. It’ll be unpleasant at best, but it’s the quickest way to break a fever.”
I grunt in acknowledgment and hang up. Stepping back into the bedroom, I see Darlene on her side, curled up into a little ball. Once I’m standing in front of her, I tuck some of her hair behind her ear and try to wake her up gently.
“Darlene, angel, I need to get you into a cool shower.”
“Mmhmm,” she agrees, but I can tell she didn’t really hear me.
Not wasting any time, I lift her up into my arms once again and carry her to the bathroom, holding her steady while I turn on the water. When I’m satisfied with the temperature, I turn towards Darlene and carefully peel off her robe, revealing a silk nightgown.
She looks absolutely beautiful, and under different circumstances, I’d rip the fabric off with my teeth. As it is, I leave it on, not wanting her to be uncomfortable or feel any more vulnerable than I’m sure she already is.
“What’s going on?” Darlene whispers.
“You’ve got a high fever. I need you to step into the shower to cool off. Just for a few minutes, okay?”
She nods, still not really understanding what's happening. I open the glass door to the shower and motion for her to step inside. Darlene takes a tentative step but then jumps back when the water hits her feet.
“Matteo?” Her voice cracks and tears fill her beautiful blue eyes.
“It’s okay, Darlene. I’m right here.”
“No, no, no, please,” she whimpers.
“Shh, it’s alright, everything is going to be okay. Just get in for a few minutes, then it will be all over,” I tell her, trying to make my voice as soothing as possible. I can’t say that’s something I’ve ever done before, but this woman, my woman has pulled it out of me.
“I’m s-sorry. I’m so sorry, please.”
Fuck, she’s breaking my heart. I don’t want to waste another second, so I scoop her up again and step into the shower with her in my arms.
“No!” She cries, trying to escape my hold. I tighten my arms around her and stand right under the cool water. “Please don’t send me away. Not again. I don’t want to leave,” she sobs. Darlene clings to me instead of pushing me away this time.
I lean back a bit to get a better look at her face. Her eyes are glassy and unfocused. She's talking to a ghost from her past. God knows what all she's been through in her short life, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out she's stuck in some warped memory from her time in foster care.
“You’re not going anywhere, I promise. You’re just sick, tesoro.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Jesus. I vow to hunt down whoever made her apologize and kicked her out for being sick. I will fucking destroy anyone and everyone who made her feel like a burden instead of a blessing.
“You’re not in trouble. You’re not leaving me.” Ever, I want to add. She squirms against me, tears streaming down her face as she fights and struggles to reconcile her past and present.
After what feels like an eternity, but I know is less than five minutes, I turn the water off and set Darlene down on the rug. I grab a towel and dry her off the best I can with her wet clothing, not even bothering with a towel myself since my three-piece suit is soaked and it wouldn’t make a difference.
She’s shivering as I lead her back into the bedroom and grab a pair of boxers and a t-shirt for her to wear. She reaches for the hem of her nightgown and tries lifting it over her head, but I can tell it’s taking up all of her energy. Placing my hands over hers, I look into her faded, but still beautiful eyes, silently asking permission.
Darlene drops her hands, surrendering her care to me. I’ve pictured this moment countless times since I first met my angel, but I never thought the first time I saw her naked would be like this. I don’t let my eyes linger on her body, though it takes all of my effort to do so.
Once she's dressed, I quickly peel my wet clothes off, leaving them in a pile on the floor, not caring if it ruins the carpet. I pull on dry clothes and help Darlene climb into bed. After grabbing a clean towel, I crawl in next to her and gently turn her so I can dry her hair as best I can. I comb my fingers through her long locks, not wanting her wet hair to tangle, or worse, cause her to become even sicker.
I’ve never had this intense, overwhelming need to take care of every little detail of someone’s well-being before. I know from this moment on, her health and happiness are my responsibility. It’s not something I take lightly. When I’ve committed myself to something, I fight for it with every breath in my body. I’m a bastard, to be sure, but I’m a loyal one. And right now, all my loyalty lies with my angel. My Darlene. Mio tesoro.
A few minutes later, there’s a light knock on the door. Carefully getting up, I let Raymond in and hover over him as he checks Darlene. I know he’s a doctor, and he’s closing in on seventy, but my possessiveness over this woman won’t allow me to move even an inch farther away from her side.