“That’s the least of my concerns.” Tasha was a good friend, and I owed her, but I didn’t care to think of that now. “You were screaming on the phone, Natalia.”
“I was scared,” she rasped. “For you, and for myself.”
My eyes drifted once again along the slash. Bruises darkened her slender neck. I urged her chin up. “What are these marks? The cuts? Your voice—it . . someone . . . were you strangled?”
“I fought back,” she said, smiling softly. “And I won. That’s what matters.”
Pride swelled in my chest. My girl. She’d done well, but a victory was hardly enough to placate me. “Don’t protect me, Natalia.”
As I tried to sit forward again, she kept me in place with a bandaged hand on my shoulder.
“What happened there?”
“Please. Lie back—”
“Stop telling me to lie back. Give me every detail, or I’ll go find someone who will.”
She glanced at the heart rate monitor. “I don’t want you to get upset.”
I caught her wrist and brought her palm to my bare chest so she could feel my pulse. “The physical pain is nothing. I’ve felt worse,” I said. “But every second that ticks by without knowing what happened to you, the ache grows. My anger grows, and my heart—”
“Okay,” she said, her voice soothing despite the way her eyes darted over the screen as it picked up my increased heart rate. She scooted closer, keeping her warm hand over my heart. “All right. I’ll tell you. Belmonte-Ruiz had a mission. For all the women you took from them, they wanted to repay the favor.”
“They targeted you.”
“All of us. We fought back,” she said quickly. “Not everyone survived, but Jaz, me, Pilar—we’re all safe.”
That wasn’t good enough. One life lost, one scrape, even—it was too much. I shut my eyes. “I swore to you that you were safe here. That I’d be here to protect you. All of you.” Jaw clenched, I looked away. “I failed you.”
She got even closer. “You were here, Cristiano. A man entered the room while I was on the phone with you. He put his hands around my neck and squeezed until I saw stars.”
I would tear him limb from limb. I would rain fury on his family, his brothers, anyone he cared about. A hazy film shuttered my vision as I shook with an impending explosion. All I could see was another man in my bedroom.
Threatening my wife.
Touching her.
Hurting her.
Visions crashed across my mind like waves against sharp-edged rocks. “I’ll kill the motherfucker.”
“I already did,” she said, her eyes locked on mine.
What? My temper simmered as the words registered. “You . . .”
She nodded slowly, a proud smile forming on her face. “I told you. I fought back, and I won. You were here. You taught me.” Her expression turned serious again. “I panicked, though. I wasn’t in the right mindset, and I couldn’t fight him off, and I started to give up. I did everything wrong at first. But he didn’t expect me to defend myself, and that was his mistake. I don’t think any of them expected that of us.”
“He underestimated you,” I said. “But you didn’t underestimate yourself.”
“You gave us . . . you gave me the tools to defend myself, and I did.”
“How?”
“Jaz helped.” She curled her fist against my chest. “I’ll tell you all the details later, and you can tell me how to do it better next time.”
I shook my head, half-awed, half-wishing I’d seen it with my own eyes. “You did everything you were supposed to. You survived.”
“Rule number one—don’t die.” She took my wrist, dipped her head so I wouldn’t have to reach much, and brought my fingers to her stitches. “They’re a badge of honor. You warned me I might get hurt, so I was ready for it. You have scars. Now I’ll have them, too. And they’ll remind me that sometimes . . . things might seem scary and impossible. But that doesn’t mean they are.”
Was she talking about more than her attack? Everything about me and my life had frightened her when she’d arrived. I hoped this was her telling me that I’d prepared her well, taught her to defend herself, and now she was ready to open herself up to the possibility of scary and impossible things—like us.
“The scars are a part of you,” I said, “and they represent the second chance you gave yourself.” I ran a thumb over her bruised, cut cheek. There was a glaring question I couldn’t ignore, though, and I worried the answer could set me off in a way I wouldn’t be able to come back from, but I had to know.
“Natalia. Did he touch you . . .? Did he . . . did . . .” I urged myself on. She was my wife. We shared a bed. I’d threatened the universe that no man should come near her. If he’d tried anything with her, it would change everything. How I approached her, touched her, even spoke to her. It would break my heart in two and send me to the depths of a hell I didn’t want to even acknowledge, but I had to take care of her before I could worry about myself. “I have to know if he raped you, or even if he tried.”
She drew back, shock clear on her face. It was blunt, but it was the only way I could ask. I had to know the fact of it—immediately.
“No. No, no, no.” She squeezed my hand with both of hers. “They weren’t here for that. They just wanted us dead.”
My heart rate steadied as resolution settled over me. “I will find a way to make this right. His brothers, his family, will pay—and I will blow up the Belmonte-Ruiz cartel. What I did before, trying to hinder their business, was nothing. Now I’ll come for them.”
“But first, you’ll rest,” she said, drawing the sheet to my chest. She picked up the fallen IV, sliding the metal stand closer to the bedside. “And you won’t hurt anyone innocent on my behalf. Take comfort in the fact that no man who entered these walls with ill intentions survived.”
“That gives me little comfort. They’re just the tail of the snake.” I sniffed, though admittedly, I was happy to hear it. “Not even one made it out?”
“Not even one. Hold still.” She lifted the edge of a bandage on my torso, examining the wound. “Some came close to escaping, but your men blasted their helicopter out of the sky. You’ve equipped your staff—your people—well. They’re composed in the face of danger, like you. Most of them are alive because of it.”
It was hardly the time for praise, but I could see she was trying to comfort me. Her interest in my feelings was new—and very welcome. “They came in through the roof then,” I said.
“Alejandro thinks they hacked the security system via the cell phone I snuck in. See, when Diego gave it to me at my dad’s house, he wanted me to get info he could pass on to Belmonte-Ruiz.” She took a breath, her cheeks pink as her theories spilled out. “They’d then able to access the cameras around the house to get a lay of the land. They would’ve needed that to down the system long enough to breach the walls via helicopter, enter through the roof, override the back-up generators and security—”
“I get it.” I didn’t need to hear more.
They’d flooded my home. Hurt my staff. Entered my bedroom. Threatened Natalia’s life.
They’d put something in my drink. Cornered Max. Shot Daniel.
Distantly, I heard Natalia call my name. “They’ll pay for this.”
She forced my fist open, slipping her delicate hand in my bruised and roughened one. “Cristiano, please, calm down. You’re in no state to get upset.”
“They know I won’t sit back and do nothing,” I said.
“Which is why you have to,” she said. “Nobody knows what’s happening yet. It could be a trap, or some kind of diversion, or . . .”
I didn’t hear the rest. Just her touch brought my heart rate down to a manageable level.
Natalia sighed as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Don’t you want to know how you are?”
I could tell without hearing from the doctors that my injuries were relatively mild. I’d been stitched up, and no doubt they’d try to keep m
e in bed for some ridiculous amount of time. I knew from experience, though, that the pain could be worse, and since I was already restless, that I’d be on my feet in no time.
It made no sense, though. I should’ve been dead. Nobody had ever gotten me on my knees and at their mercy for long enough to stick me—what, three or four times? They’d completely immobilized me. I could’ve watched him draw a gun and put it to my temple—and done nothing about it.
“Some of the doctors think you were lucky,” Natalia said softly. “But I know you make your own luck. The valet didn’t hit any vital organs, and he missed your heart completely.”
I brought her hand to my mouth, watching her face, asking silent permission as I pressed a kiss to her knuckles, her palm. “That’s because I’m no normal man, as I’ve told you. My organs are impenetrable.”
“And your heart?” she asked. “Is it impenetrable, too?”
“No, but it wasn’t where he thought it would be,” I said. “Because it was here. With you.”
“Cristiano,” she said on a breath. She pushed some of my hair off my forehead, and it took everything I had not to close my eyes and give in to the feeling of her fingers on my skin. I’d already had her out of my sight too long, though. I wanted to get my fill of her. “The doctor didn’t say you hit your head. Are you feeling okay?” she asked. “Has this near-death experience made you . . . romantic?”
“Only reinforced what I already knew—time is precious. I won’t waste it anymore by holding back.”
“You, hold back?” she asked and ventured a small smile. “Since when?”
I wished she’d crumble once and for all, fall into my arms, and seek safety in me, but still . . . she held back. Something had changed—I could feel her giving in, but she wasn’t completely there yet.
She moved close enough that we could speak in whispers. “You scared everyone,” she said.
“You?”
“Yes. Me. Are you going to tell me why you went?” she asked. “What you were looking for? What was so important that you’d risk your life for it?”
“You’d know the answer if only you’d let yourself see it.”
She bit her lip as her eyes roamed over my bandaged body, her raven-colored hair falling around her face.
“You, Natalia,” I continued. “I went for you. I was looking for you. I’d risk my life for you.”
Her gaze shot up, and she grabbed my cheeks so suddenly, I flinched. She forced me to look her in the eye. “No.”
I frowned. “No what?”
“No more searching for closure or proof or whatever it was that took you away. I don’t need it, Cristiano de la Rosa. Don’t you ever go looking for closure for me again.”
“But it’s not just for you. It’s for me, too.” I placed my crude, unworthy hands over her soft, injured ones, engulfing them. “There will always be a hint of doubt in your mind about my involvement in Bianca’s death, and I won’t live that way.”
She drew back slightly, surprise playing out on her face. Her brows drew together as she looked sideways, away from me. What was it? Did indecision war inside her? Anything to do with her mother, she wanted answers. But that meant letting me continue down that path.
“Do you know something?” she asked.
“Only suspicions I’m trying to verify.”
She inhaled deeply through her nose. If she asked me to go back, I would—just as soon as I had a plan in place to retrieve Max and retaliate against Belmonte-Ruiz.
“Don’t go,” she said finally. “I want you to stay here. Stay home. Don’t go looking for answers, and don’t go after Belmonte-Ruiz.”
I must’ve misheard her. She would put my wellbeing above learning more about Bianca’s murder? Above revenge? In that moment, all my wounds were healed. The loyalty and the trust of my wife was the salve, the anesthetic, the cure for a lifetime of rejection and loss.
It was, finally, the first indication that she could find a way to love me.
The other night, this was all I’d wanted to hear from her—stay.
But she and I both knew it couldn’t be.
I had always been and would always be in this life. In the line of fire. At risk. No guarantee of tomorrow. I wasn’t letting anything go, and now that Belmonte-Ruiz had struck against us, I would have to retaliate tenfold. Natalia might not like it, and her concern was almost enough to make me think twice, but I couldn’t let Daniel and the others die for nothing. And I couldn’t leave Max behind—even if, deep down, I knew what his fate would be.
“Enough business talk.” I ran my hand up her forearm and squeezed her biceps. I wanted her to come even closer, but we’d made a lot of progress already tonight, and I didn’t want to push my luck. “Did you sleep by my side last night?”
Slowly, she shook her head. “You needed space.”
“You swore you’d be in my bed.” My tone dropped. “It’s the rule, mi amor.”
“Extenuating circumstances.”
“If I’d woken up and you weren’t there, I’d have sent everyone out looking for you.”
“They wouldn’t have had to look far. They would’ve found me on the couch. Still close—in case you needed anything.”
“I need, Natalia. I need you like I haven’t needed anything in a long time. Maybe ever.” I drew her closer by her arm until our faces were centimeters apart. “I won’t force you to fill that need, but you should know it runs deep in me.”
If one thing had kept me from falling into death’s grip, it was the promise of her sweet mouth taking my cock again. I dreamed of it, of the last night we’d spent in the same bed, of the way she’d willingly gotten to her knees, and then of our kiss. Those memories had kept me alive.
And the fact that I owed her the same.
If I thought I could reciprocate with all the vigor I intended, I would’ve splayed her out in front of me now.
It would be the first thing I did once I was back on my feet—devour that pussy like the piece of candy it was.
Warmth crept up my neck as my hunger for her stirred deep inside me. Fuck trying not to scare her. I’d never let that stop me before. “If I told you to climb on top of me now, what would you say?”
Her lips parted for a breath. “It would probably kill you. The doctor said if you rip your sutures, she’ll have to perform surgery.”
“Nobody knows the medicine I need. Get on. Put me inside you; it will heal me. And if it doesn’t, it will give me something to live for.”
The rosy flush of her cheeks pleased me. I looked forward to seeing how she’d demur or lash back when she was so clearly trying to be nice to my injured self.
But then she glanced over her shoulder. Leaned into me. Brushed her mouth along the outer shell of my ear. “Okay.”
I nearly choked. “O-kay?” I asked, not bothering to keep the surprise from my voice.
She nodded, running soft fingertips along my hairline, then against my scalp.
My eyes fell shut in pure bliss. My beautiful queen would finally give what I had practically begged for. What I’d trade my kingdom for just then.
My heart thumped, its ba-bump speeding with the machine’s beep-beep.
God, don’t let me die from satisfaction before I even truly taste it.
“I only ask one thing,” Natalia whispered in my ear.
I opened my eyes to look into her sparkling ones. “Anything.”
“If I climb onto your lap and finally take you inside me . . .”
I salivated, my hand on her arm tightening as need coursed through me. “Yes?”
“Do you promise to lie still so you don’t worsen your wounds?”
My hope crushed like a vehicle flattened to a pancake by a compactor. I could’ve cried if I didn’t have the urge to laugh. My temptress knew exactly how I’d answer. God was not merciful.
“Lie still?” I asked. “I vowed to prove that your virginity was still intact by utterly destroying it. How can I do that if I don’t move?”
; “Ah. Shame.” She wet her lips, blinking lazily at me. Did she want it that bad, too? Or was she teasing me? “You may be willing to risk your life for one night of sex, but I’m not.” She kissed my cheek—her touch gentle as my body answered with desire’s violent pull. “It won’t be tonight. Or tomorrow night. But it will be,” she said. “Heal, Cristiano—so you can make good on that promise.”
Fuck me. She was ready then? Her admission was the sweetest consolation. She was going to give herself to me. I weighed the idea of delivering on my promise now and dying in the process against having to wait even longer, knowing it would finally happen, and living to enjoy it.
If I thought I could ruin her tonight without ending up on an operating table, I might’ve tried. I’d have to be content knowing there was light now where there had only been darkness before.
But if it meant opening my wife’s eyes to what we could be, I couldn’t help thinking I should’ve gotten myself nearly killed sooner.
5
Natalia
In our dimly lit master bathroom, Cristiano stood directly under a soft, warm bulb that shone on him like he was a statue in a museum. From the doorway, I admired him in the mirror. He brushed his teeth wearing only low-slung, black sweatpants that showed off the muscles rippling all the way down to a defined “V” . . . and beyond. His sculpted definition spanned so far south, I wondered if his size could be the result of some special kind of workout.
I crossed my arms over my nightgown to hide my nipples as they stood at attention. “You should be in bed.”
Gauzy bandages glowed white against his abdomen. His smooth, bronzed skin had been marred and scarred—and not just by this attack. “Doc says I’ve been healing up nice the past few days,” he said.
He put his every effort into hiding a grimace as he bent at the hip to spit in the sink, but I knew better.
“Really?” I asked. “Because I spoke to her this morning, and she wants you off your feet for at least another week.”
He snorted. “A week? No, mami. I’ll go crazy if I’m bedridden more than a few days. And it’s been a few days.”
Violent Triumphs (White Monarch Book 3) Page 5