Page 24 of Brutal Heir

I will never admit it to Rory, but the meal Mrs. Jenkins crafted at her specifications was delicious. I’m no stranger to a high-protein diet. Before everything went to hell, I used to work out daily. I even have a home gym in one of the spare bedrooms. But that was when I cared about what my body looked like. Now, I just want to keep the savage landscape hidden from prying eyes.

Rory appears around the corner, her wild auburn hair in a messy bun atop her head. Something that looks a lot like a thin dagger is speared through the tangle of curls. She’s wearing a tight t-shirt with the words “Don’t Make Me Use My Nurse Voice” stamped across her chest. I barely hold back the smile,but I refuse to give her the satisfaction. What the hell were Serena and Bella thinking when they found this wildling?

Which reminds me, I owe my meddling cousins major payback.

Luckily, I’ll get to see them both this week at Serena’s engagement party. I was planning on coming up with some sort of an excuse not to attend, but now, I have a bone to pick.

“Are you all finished with your supper?” She peers across the table at the empty dish triumphantly.

Like I’ll give her the pleasure of my praises. “Are you going to clear away my plate?”

“Do I look like your maid?” She flashes me a sneer. “You’ve got hands, use them.”

I don’t bring up the fact that my right hand was badly burned and still hurts like hell. It took me weeks to be able to write again. Instead, I huff out a resigned breath and pick up my plate before pushing myself up from the high-backed chair.

Mrs. Jenkins has already gone home for the evening, leaving me alone with the little tyrant. I’ve stalled all day, avoided it as much as possible, but I can see the gleam in her eyes. It’s time for the dreaded bath.

As I round the kitchen, I’m already regretting the promise I made yesterday in a rush to get her out of my bedroom. Why did I think I would be ready for her to see me, the real me, scars and all, so soon?

Because she’s your nurse, you idiot. This time the voice in my head sounds a hell of a lot like my sister’s. She tried to come over this afternoon, but physical therapy days leave me exhausted and cranky as shit.

Dealing with one feisty woman is more than enough. I didn’t need my twin here too.

As I place the plates in the dishwasher at a snail’s pace, I can feel Rory’s gaze heavy on me. Can she see how painful thissimple household chore is? Feel the strain in my shoulders, see the grinding of my teeth?Dio, I hate letting anyone see this weak side of me, and now, in a moment she will see me at my worst.

Completely bare. All my monstrous scars out in the open.

“Hurry up, slow poke.” This woman is much too perky, leaning against the marble island watching me. She cannot actually be looking forward to this, can she? She’s a total masochist. “It’s bath time!”

I half expect her to break into a damned jig at my discomfort.

She probably can’t wait to see the formidable Rossi heir, once a god, now fallen from grace. As I straighten, I meet that determined gaze and mentally chastise myself.Dio, how conceited am I? Rory may be infuriating and have a shitty opinion of me, but she’s certainly not the incompetent nurse I hoped she’d be.

Earlier today at physical therapy, Max couldn’t stop complimenting her as she gushed about the new routine she had mapped out for me.Can’t wait to start that torture… Clearly, she knows what she’s talking about and does seem to care about the job.

But that doesn’t mean she’s the right fit for me.

“Come on, Alessandro.” She pushes off the marble island and offers a hand, a hint of pity in her gaze. “The longer you put it off the more painful it’ll be for both of us.”

My eyes snap in her direction. “Don’t look at me like that,” I growl, gripping the edge of the counter. “I didn’t ask for you to be here.” The moment the harsh words are out I regret them. I didn’t mean to bark at her. It was just an instinctual response, like a cornered animal. Taking a breath to deflate the mounting anger, I modify my tone and ask, “Why would it be painful for you?”

Rory shrugs, and I can practically see the snarky comment perched on her tongue. But somehow, she swallows it down. Shedoesn’t flinch. Doesn’t pull back. She just steps closer, hand still extended like she’s not afraid I’ll bite it off.

Her voice is soft, but steady. “Because I hate watching people suffer when I know I can help.”

She holds my gaze, eyes bright and unwavering. “And believe it or not, beneath all your grumbling and growling, I can see how much it hurts. You might not have asked for help, Alessandro, but you damn well need it. So stop being a stubborn eejit and let me do my job.”

Her hand wiggles slightly between us, a silent dare. “Come on, before I start charging hazard pay.”

With a rueful smile, I extend my hand, wrapping my fingers around her small palm. How could someone so tiny and seemingly breakable be so fierce? And me, at six-foot three, two-hundred pounds, I’m completely wrecked.

She leads me to the bathroom, my footsteps dragging like a prisoner on death row. When we finally reach my bedroom, I pause at the door, my bare feet rooted to the spot.

I pull my hand free of hers, the moment of vulnerability gone now that the dreaded time has come. “I need a minute.”

“Okay. I’ll be here when you’re ready. But don’t take too long. I already filled the tub, and I don’t want it to get cold.”

When did she do that, while I was eating? The woman has been planning this moment all night, hasn’t she?