Page 111 of Cara

“How so?”

“Raging muscles. Fuck me eyes. That damn smirk that continuously makes me weak at the knees.”

As if on command, those charms materialize on his face. He watches as my arms stretch overhead long enough for the sheet to drift deliberately. His eyes wince with restraint as they drift from my exposed breasts to my face.

“You look a bit like my wife, too.”

“How so?”

I'mflirtingwith him. I can’t remember when I felt light enough to joke or tease this way.

Abandoning the window, he saunters to the unmade bed, bending down to pass his lips over one of the peaks, a provocative graze of his teeth raising the nipple to stud.

I feel the implicationeverywhere.

Nuzzling into my throat, kissing my flooding veins, he says, “Silky skin. A mouthbeggingto be kissed. That damn tempting gleam in your eyes—” his gaze drifts down to watch the way my hips undulate, thighs chafing together as his husky voice awakens things in my body, “—when you want me so badly you can’t keep still.”

My voice drops several octaves when I say, “Get into bed.”

He shakes his head, pulling back just far enough that I cannot reach him. His hand caresses my hip through the sheet. “If I do, I’ll miss another day, and my men will come here for answers.”

That’ll do it.

My mouth draws tight. “When will you be back?”

“A couple of hours. Dante will be here in a few minutes.”

“Aren’t they handling other parts of the business?”

“Yes, but they insisted on coming back until your father is found." He sighs. “I don’t like it, but I don’t trust anyone else with you.”

“I'm not as helpless as I was. You don’t need to worry.”

He smiles softly, kissing my cheek, then my lips. “You were never helpless.”

His phone buzzes on the nightstand. The gun is missing, likely concealed under his clothes by now. His quietness while reading the message prompts me to ask who it is.

“Rosa.”

My eyes dart to the clock, noting the early hour disapprovingly, evoking a smile from him.

“Steady,” he teases, visibly enjoying the jealousy I cannot contain. “It’s about Isabella. It’s… my day tomorrow.”

His day with her. With his daughter.

He’s afather.

As all of this floods back, I force a smile, take his hand, and try to appear at ease with everything. “Don’t worry. I can keep out of the way for the day. Courtney mentioned?—”

Unlike me, who’s hiding, he’s completely transparent for once, his gaze wary as he says, “You… don’t want to meet her?”

Fuck. The guarded composure in those words makes me backtrack fast. “Rosa never liked me. I don’t want my coming back to affect your relationship with?—”

“You’re my wife.”

“I know.”

He raises my hand to his lips, visibly torn, as he carefully considers his words. “Listen, I get this may be too much too soon…”