“The wound was bad enough the doctor had to apply several strips of butterfly tape,” he explained.
She winced. “Did the doctor have to shave my head to do it?”
“Only directly around the wound.”
“No wonder you said I look awful.”
“You could never look anything but beautiful.”
“Liar!”
“You look fine, Carla,” he reassured. “The doctor also decided, as you were unconscious and couldn’t drink to replace the fluid you’ve lost, that you needed this,” Leon explained when she glanced up at the IV stand and bag of liquid, and the tube down from it taped to the back of her hand.
She paled. “The liquid being blood.”
He nodded abruptly. “Head wounds bleed. A lot.”
She shuddered. “Lucky I don’t remember it, then.” She grimaced. “I’m not very good with the sight of fresh blood.”
“The doctor’s asleep but on call in one of the bedrooms down the hall if you want me to call him?”
“No need. I gather he’s here because I can’t go to a hospital without a lot of questions being asked as to how I acquired the wound.” It was a statement, not a question.
Leon sighed heavily. “Yes.”
“Someone tried to kill you.” Again a statement and not a question.
“They obviously missed,” he attempted to tease. Even if humor was the last thing he was feeling right now. “Why did you do it, Carla? Why step in front of me at the risk of taking a bullet yourself?” His fingers tightened about hers.
She frowned and then winced as it obviously pulled on her stitches. “It’s what people do.”
“No,” he said slowly. “In my experience, people who aren’t trained or paid to do so really don’t do that.”
“I guess I didn’t read the manual properly.”
“What manual?”
“What to do when someone tries to shoot the man…the person standing beside you,” she concluded awkwardly, color brightening her cheeks.
Leon eyed her for several long seconds before speaking again. “Can I lie on the bed with you? I have a fierce need to hold you in my arms,” he explained gruffly.
“It’s your bedroom. Isn’t it?” she added uncertainly as she looked around them.
“Yeah, it is,” he confirmed as he swung his legs up on the bed before lying back to slowly take her in his arms, careful to avoid touching the bandage on the side of her head. “Better,” he stated flatly.
It was better, Carla acknowledged. She felt safe, cared for.
In the arms of Leon Brunelli, the man who was capo dei capi of the Italian Mafia worldwide?
She wouldn’t have been shot at all if she hadn’t been standing next to him!
Would she?
There was something nagging at the back of her brain. Something about the shooting—
“Stop thinking about it,” Leon murmured against the temple that didn’t have a wad of gauze over the wound. He hated the fact that was going to leave a scar.
“I need to go home—”
“You need to stay exactly the fuck where you are!”
Her brow creased as she glanced up at him, the movement instantly causing her to give another wince of pain. “Did you know you use the word fuck a lot when you’re agitated?” she prompted mildly.
He gave a snort of laughter. “Only you, having been shot and lost a couple pints or so of blood, could then decide to upbraid me for swearing.”
“It was merely an observation, not a complaint,” she defended. “Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re leaving later today, and I need to go back to my apartment. I have to be at work on Monday morning too.”
He eyed her skeptically. “You really think any of those things are going to happen?”
Carla was starting to feel a bit woozy, if she was honest. So much so that she thought she might throw up if she didn’t close her eyes to shut out the room dipping from side to side. Except she could still feel that movement even with her lids closed. In fact, it wasn’t just dipping now. It was spinning. Round and round and—
“I’m so sorry,” she managed to gasp as she pulled out of Leon’s arms before leaning over the side of the bed and losing the contents of her stomach.
After which, she prompted fell back against the pillows and back into that world of darkness.
Chapter Five
“Papa, you really need to get out of those clothes and take a shower.” Natalia gave a pointed wrinkle of her nose as he paced in front of her. “You smell of blood and vomit.”
Leon paused in his pacing to glare at her. “No one asked you to get out of bed and join me.”
“You didn’t seriously expect me to be able to sleep through you raging about the apartment like a bull on speed as you hurled abuse at the doctor concerning his incompetence?”
Leon had done that, yes. “We’re all a little on edge right now,” he dismissed. “Unless you’ve forgotten, someone tried to kill me tonight,” he reminded harshly.
“And instead, they wounded Carla.” Natalia gave him a searching glance. “This one’s important, hm, Papa?”
He scowled darkly. “This one?”
“Carla.”
He blinked. “I hardly know her.”
“I’ve never seen you dance with any woman like that before. I didn’t even know you could dance like that,” Natalia added ruefully. “You have some sexy moves there, Papa.”
Natalia hadn’t seen Leon dance before because his private social life—his sex life—had always been completely separate from his life with his daughter. Admittedly, it had been a while, but he had been to clubs in the past and danced with women before taking them to a hotel for the night.
I didn’t dance with any of them in the erotic way I danced with Carla at the wedding reception. That had literally been
