Chapter 47

ALESSANDRO

I stepped outside, the smell of my freshly cleaned wound seeping into my nostrils. I looked at my arm, slightly affected by the fire, thankful no more harm had come to her.

Her silk brown hair spread across the pillow, and her soft touch felt so tempting to me. Yet I had to hold back. She wasn’t in any shape to be under my sheets or roaming in my thoughts right now. But I couldn’t help it.

That low tone of hers, those lips—rough as they seemed—called out to me. It took everything in me not to hold her tightly. I pressed my back against the wall near her door, fighting back anger and tears.

What if something happened to her?

The promise I made to her father would be broken. Worse, I’d have to live with the guilt of losing her—because I failed to kill Charles sooner.

Just as I stared at the ceiling, I felt another presence. Collins.

“I don’t think it’s good for you to be standing while your leg needs healing,” he said.