Page 117 of The Temptation

“I love her,” he slurs, head lolling to one side. “So damn much. You don’t get it. She’s so beautiful, so perfect. She smells like coconuts. Mmm, I love coconut.”

I blink, but he keeps going.

“She’s got eyes like … like dark chocolate. The expensive kind. Rich. Mysterious. Probably imported.” He pauses, blinking up at the ceiling. “God, I’d kill for her. I think I did kill for her. Wait. Did I? Or was that the dog? No, the dog’s innocent. I remember now, I left Killer at home. That’s his name, you know … Killer. He’s the best fucking dog. He’s trained to kill, but he’s never actually killed anyone; he would if someone ever hurt me or Lucia, though. He loves her too, probably not as much as I love her, but close.”

I blink again.He loves Lucia?Or is he just talking out of his arse?

He finally turns and sees me.

“Dante!” he says with a dopey-arse grin. “I love you too, you know. You’re my best friend. My brother. Fuck, I love you. Not as much as I love Lucia, though.”

I raise an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.

“Glad to see you’re still with us,” I say, watching as the morphine-fuelled nonsense keeps spilling from his mouth.

Romeo leans towards me like he’s about to tell me a secret.

“But don’t tell my wife I said that. She’d cut me.” He chuckles, then winces, probably remembering his stitches. “She’s so feisty, but I love her sass. I love everything about her.”

I pull out my phone and start recording.

“You love Lucia?” I ask, trying hard not to laugh.

“Oh, God. I love her so much,” he says, eyes wide, deadly serious. “She makes my heart goba-bom,ba-bomevery time I see her.” He puts a hand over his chest. “Every time she yells at me, I fall a little harder. It’s like music. Beautiful, angry music. It makes my cock go rock-hard.”

I roll my lips to hide my smile. I’m starting to believe that maybe my brother was right about my post-op babble. At least I’ll have proof of this, so Romeo won’t be able to deny it.

“She tried to bite my ear off, you know.”

My eyebrows jump in amusement. “She did?”

“Yeah,” he says with that goofy grin again. “She locked me outside.” He blows out a long whistle through his teeth. “She was so angry. So, so angry.” His smile stretches wider, proud and unrepentant.

“Why was she angry at you?” I ask, genuinely interested in his answer.

“Because I shot Big-O,” he replies like it’s obvious.

I frown. “Big-O?”

He nods, and I swear his grey eyes are twinkling. “Her vibrator.”

Ah, right. I remember him telling me about that.

He raises his hand, forms a finger gun, and shouts, “Boom! I blew that motherfucker to smithereens.” He leans slightly towards me and whispers, “He had no right giving her pleasure. That’s my job as her husband. But in all fairness, we weren’t married when that happened.”

“You’re not even married now,” I say over a chuckle.

“The fuck we’re not.” He lifts his left hand, clumsily shoving it in my direction. “See my wedding ring?”

“There’s no ring on your finger, mate.”

His eyes widen, and I find myself laughing again. This is gold. I’m not sure if I’ll ever let him live this down.

He holds his hand up in front of his face and squints his eyes. “My ring … it’s gone.”

I’m about to tell him there was never a ring, but the nurse steps towards the bed and places her hand on his arm.

“I took it off before the operation. It’s hospital protocol. Fingers can swell after surgery, and rings can constrict blood flow. They can also interfere with the pulse oximeter.”