“I swear to God, if any man or woman touched you there in that fucking house, in any way that hurt you, I will storm straight back in there and cut their hand off and feed it to them.” Pure rage exudes from his eyes, and I can’t help but be enamored by his sudden need to protect me.
I place a hand on his cheek. “No, I’m fine. Please, don’t do that.”
I don’t want him going back in there to risk his life just to punish someone. And I don’t know why I care so much, but I do. Despite being upset over the way he treated me, I don’t want him to get hurt.
He covers my hand with his and gently leans into it, breathing a sigh of relief. “All this time, I was so goddamn worried about you.”
His words pull at my heartstrings. Even though I wanted nothing more than to escape his grasp, I don’t know what to feel anymore now. After learning how Molly truly felt about me, all those damn years I wasted on finding my parents felt like a lie, and I don’t know how to cope.
Maybe Marcello was right. Even though that doesn’t excuse him for not telling the truth, at least he had the right intentions. He saved me from that fire. If he had known that Igor was my father before the night of the shoot-out, maybe he would’ve tried his best to save him. Even though the man did try to sell me off at an auction…
God, it’s all so fucked up.
“I’m sorry,” Marcello says, looking away as he sighs. “And I don’t mean that lightly.” I smile as he looks back up again and pulls me closer with the other hand. “For a second there, I thought I’d lost you. And that hurt me more than anything I could bear.”
“I … I …”
He plants a finger on my lips.
“You don’t need to say anything right now, Kitten. I don’t expect anything. I just want you to give me a chance to make things right.”
I frown and look away for a moment, but as I stare down, I realize the dark secret I’ve been keeping from everyone. Not just from my mother but from him, too.
I’m carrying his baby … and I don’t know if I’m ready for him to know yet.
After all, it could only give him more reasons to make me his prisoner, the one thing I was running away from the most.
But how long can I keep this a secret? How long can I hide this growing stomach of mine?
My heart pounds in my chest as I look up at him again, searching his eyes for a deeper message, a hidden meaning to all of his words. If there would ever be a chance for us to be more than just captor and captive. If he could ever be something more than a man obsessed with making me his.
His hand reaches for my face, and he caresses me so gently I almost melt into him. “Let’s go home.”
And I decide that, for now, I’m going to keep this little life growing inside me a secret.
Not just for the sake of the baby … but for my own safety as well.
Marcello
I have her again.
She’s here, next to me in this car. Her scent fills my nose, and her breathing fills my ears. I can’t stop looking, can’t stop touching.
She’s become everything to me.
An addiction and a distraction all in one.
I almost got myself killed because I wanted her so badly … But some things are worth dying for.
If only I’d seen it before.
The car pulls up to my mansion, which was deemed safe again after my guards thoroughly checked the area and secured it. I doubt Molly and Frank would dare to attack us when they’re still recovering.
I climb out first and hold the door open for Harper with a hand held out to help her to her feet.
She looks up at me from inside the car. Her eyes are filled with emotions that don’t have a name. Like she can’t decide whether to kiss me or choke me. Her eyes slide from my face down to my hand.
“I’m fine, thanks,” she says, passing me by.
I can’t deny that the distance in her voice hurts, especially after what I just did to pull her out of that hellhole. But I don’t respond. My words will not do our already fragile love any good.
Besides, there’ll be plenty of time for words later.
I follow her up the steps of my mansion. One of the housekeepers is holding open the double doors for us.
Harper looks around like she can’t believe she’s here again.
The housekeeper shuts the front door with a clang and quickly disappears.
We’re alone.
She’s safe.
She’s still in front of me, peering up at the beautiful tapestries on the wall like she’s remembering what it felt like the first time she walked these halls.
I clear my throat. “Are you okay?”
She glances at me over her shoulder, and her mouth twists. “You already asked me that.”
I nod.
More awkward silence.
But my heart is anything but silent.
It wants to scream out the feelings I have for her.
But I don’t think it’s the right time for that when she just came back here.
Harper draws in a sharp breath. It sounds almost like a sob. When she looks up at me, unshed tears glisten in her eyes.
“My mother—”
She can’t even get through that before the full weight of everything she’s experienced since we left comes crashing down on her.
It floors her.
I hear the twin thunk-thunk of Harper’s trembling knees hitting the marbled floor.
And then her sobs.
Gut-wrenching, full-bodied sobs consume her. It’s the only sound in the whole house.
That, and the crystalline splash of her tears striking the floor.
“Harper…” I growl.
Then I do the only thing I can do. Sinking to my knees in front of her, I put a hand on either side of her face and force her to look at me.
She’s as beautiful as she was the very first time I laid eyes on her in that club. Every bit as fierce. Every bit as proud.
But she’s crumpling under the weight of tragedies she shouldn’t have to bear alone.
So I tell her that.
“I’m here,” I whisper in a low rasp. “You’re not alone anymore.”
And then I kiss her. As natural as breathing, my lips find hers, and it’s the greatest fucking feeling I’ve ever known.
Her mouth is warm and wet against mine. Still tearstained. Still trembling.
At first, she’s tentative.
But as the clock in the corner chimes out in slow seconds, she opens to it. Her lips part, and my tongue snakes in. Her hands clasp on top of mine. She clings to my fingers desperately.
The kiss deepens. I slide a hand down to her hip and pull her closer to me while the other hand finds the roots of her hair and winds through it.
She’s still hesitant.
So am I.
I know what this woman does to me, to my self-control.
But fuck it—the hunger to consume her is so much more powerful.
With a deep growl low in my chest, I wrench her all the way into my arms. She resists for a moment before she gives in completely.
And when she does, she melts into me. Her body presses against mine, her soft breasts against my chest, her hair falling over us both like a curtain.
I close my eyes and savor her kiss on my lips.
Then I lean back against the marble parquet flooring. It’s cold against my back, but that’s just more delicious contrast to the woman burning up on top of me.