“I doubt the Secret Service does advance work as well as you, Bianca. Between the private elevators, armored car, back entrances, and Bruce, there’s no way you could’ve guessed we’d still be at risk.” Lena hauls in a huge breath, her eyes filling with tears as she looks down at Bianca. “It’s all my fault. Really. If anything had happened to you…”
“But nothing did.” Bianca shushes her, grabbing Lena’s hand and pulling her to the side of the car. Since I don’t let Lena go, I come along too. The women share a silent exchange, gratitude filling Bianca’s expression. “Thank you for what you did. Truly.”
“What did you do?” Johnny and I ask at the same time.
When Lena stays silent, Bianca answers for her. “After Bruce got knocked out, Lena put herself between me and the gunman. Made sure I got away first.” Bianca’s voice wavers. “She put my safety over hers and I’ll never be able to thank her enough.”
Before I know what’s happening, Johnny has wrapped Lena in a giant hug. Bianca is still holding one of her hands. My arm is still wrapped around Lena’s waist. We’re all twisted up, emotions thick.
“Grazie mille.” Johnny drops a peck on Lena’s cheek and hustles back to the driver’s side before I can smack him. “Be good to her,” he says, pointing at the woman I’m cradling against my chest. “Or you’ll have to add me to your long list of people to deal with.”
I give him the middle finger as they drive off, even as new appreciation for Lena blossoms in my chest. She’s a fighter, this woman. So brave. And in so much fucking trouble when we get home.
17
REM
Ican’t stop touching her. Little touches, the entire way back to the penthouse. I had two of my soldiers pick us up, one to drive, one to act as an extra guard as I hold her close in the back seat. I’m more convinced than ever that Lena needs to be surrounded by me and bulletproof glass, all the time.
The drive back to mine is short but fraught. After Lena confirms she isn’t hurt and that her side feels no worse than usual, neither of us speaks. Lena probably because she’s exhausted. Me because I can’t trust myself not to say something I don’t want one of my men overhearing. Such as how fucking terrified I was that she was going to get killed and I wasn’t going to be able to do anything to stop it.
I have enough will power to keep my mouth shut for the brief drive, but I can’t keep my hands to myself.
Not that Lena seems to mind. I run the fingers of one hand through her hair as she leans her head on my shoulder. With my other, I spin the diamond ring around, over and over, until she interlaces our fingers together, resting our hands in her lap.
We’re still holding hands when Lorenzo races into the underground garage and pulls the car to an abrupt stop in front of the second, smaller of my private elevators. I hate using it. It’s too cramped. I feel like I can’t breathe when I’m in it, the journey to the fortieth floor too long for such a claustrophobic space. But since it has direct access from my secured section of the garage, set behind three bulletproof doors, all requiring a different ten-digit access code, it is the most guarded entry point into my apartment. One Lena seems to be familiar with when she casually punches the button inside, the one that takes us all the way up.
Pulling Lena even tighter into my side, I keep my breathing as calm as I can by pressing my nose into her hair. And try not to think horrible, horrible things about my best friend’s wife when Lena’s behavior confirms that this is the route she and Bianca used earlier today to bypass my guards at the penthouse’s front door. Men who, unlike Bruce, cannot be bought with Bianca’s baking.
The instant we’re into my apartment and the elevator doors close behind us, I take my first full breath in what feels like hours. And drag Lena through the maze of hallways to my bedroom.
We’re barely into the room when I take her mouth with mine. She gasps into the kiss, surprised. I take advantage, lick my tongue deep, taste her. The coffee she had with Bianca. The blood from where she cut the inside of her cheek during her escape. She’s bitter and sweet and so fucking intoxicating I want to drink down as much of her as I can.
“I’m going to lock you in here,” I growl, teeth catching her bottom limp. She whimpers at the bite, and moans when I lick away the sting.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
My hands tangled deep in Lena’s hair, I push her backagainst the wall just inside the entrance. My bedroom door is wide open. Guards are patrolling the apartment, on high alert after what’s happened. There’s nothing to stop one from walking by, from hearing Lena’s gasps of pleasure. From seeing us devouring each other.
I’m so worked up, I don’t even care. Let them see the truth for what it is.
Lena’s mine.
I will take what’s mine.
Ever since Johnny relayed Bruce’s 911 message, since I found out Bianca and Lena were under attack, fear has been clawing at the back of my throat. Fear, and fury that Lena would dare to leave the safety of my penthouse. That she’d risk her life like that. But since pulling her from the elevator, I’ve been consumed by the need to claim her all over again. To prove to myself that she’s okay.
I drag my lips over hers, inhaling the breath that escapes when Lena opens her jaw wider, her head tipping back in my hands as she welcomes my invasion again and again. We savor each other, her fingers digging into the back of my neck as I let go of her hair.
I press my palms against the wall, caging her in. With effort, I break contact, and swallow down a groan when it takes Lena several seconds to focus her lust-filled eyes on my face.
“You shouldn’t have left,” I say.
“I know.”
“You could’ve gotten hurt.”
“I know.”