Page 24 of Tainted Obsession 1

I can’t breathe.

A tinny ringing pierces my eardrums, smothering the heaving sound of my failed breaths. They stick in my tight throat, the air never reaching my oxygen-starved lungs.

“Evelyn.” I recognize that accented voice, even though it’s the first time he’s ever said my name.

How does he know my name?

Big hands reach for me—the same hands that scooped me up and carried me away from danger.

The hands that murdered my kidnappers.

I try to scramble away, and his dark brows draw into dangerous slashes over his stunning wolf’s eyes.

“Please…” My mouth forms the desperate plea for mercy, but no sound comes out.

Massimo’s corded arms enfold me, caging me in a careful but firm hold. One of his hands lifts to the center of my chest, applying pressure over my racing heart.

“Breathe.” His deep voice rolls through my body, compelling my obedience.

My chest loosens, and I manage to heave in a deep breath.

“That’s it,” he praises. “Another. Keep breathing.”

My chest convulses, but I manage to take in the oxygen I so desperately need. I force down another.

One hand remains firmly on my chest, applying that grounding pressure against my heart as its erratic beats slow to a more regular rhythm. His other hand brushes over my scalp, sure fingers trailing through my hair in a soothing motion.

“You’re doing so well,farfallina,” he says, warm and coaxing. “You’re safe.”

I tense again, and he shushes me, cradling my face so that my cheek presses against his bare chest. I inhale the scent of leather and amber, and something deeper that’s purely masculine and unique to Massimo. Every time my lungs expand, I breathe him in. With his warm, sure hands soothing me, the scent becomes heady, and the world turns slightly surreal.

The room is no longer spinning, but it’s fuzzy at the edges; my full focus is onhim.

Two fingers curl beneath my chin, lifting my face to his. Those shining silver eyes stun me, and my brain blanks for a few merciful seconds.

My next breath comes easier.

“No one is going to hurt you,” he says with the weight of an oath. “I’ve got you.”

Exhaustion rolls over me, making my entire body feel oddly heavy. I recognize that I have no chance of fighting my way free of his strong but careful hold, so I go still in his arms.

“You don’t work with George.” It’s meant to be an accusation, but it comes out breathlessly after the adrenaline dump.

He frowns, but he maintains his gentle grip on my body. “No, I don’t.”

“This isn’t a safe house.”

“It’s not.” The admission is clipped, as though he’s reluctant to say it. “But you are safe here.”

“Who are you?” I ask more clearly.

My terror is fading, kept at bay by his steady hand over my heart. Despite the fact that I should be scared of him, I can’t deny that his touch is subversively comforting. Some instinctive part of me accepts that he’s protected me three times now.

“No one you should fear.” His thumb caresses my chilled cheek.

I barely resist the urge to find comfort in that tender touch. Massimo is a dangerous man. I shouldn’t be soothed by the hands that’ve killed at least two men.

“You were there,” I whisper. “In that basement. You’re the one who…” I trail off, unable to put my roiling emotions into words. He killed for me, but he also saved my life.