Shadow Warrior (Shadow Riders 4)

As soon as Emilio opened the passenger door, Vittorio was out, but he reached back in to help her slide from the car. Exiting a vehicle was still difficult. Grace felt top-heavy with her arm and shoulder still so stiff and painful, preventing any real movement. As always when they walked anywhere, Vittorio had his hand on her, in this case, right on the small of her back. She felt the heat of his palm burning through the thin material of her shirt.

Mariko had helped her shower and dress that morning, but she was getting much more adept. She still had her arm in a sling when she wasn’t doing physical therapy, but dressing one-handed was getting to be a little easier. There was more movement in her shoulder and the more she worked the fingers on her hand, the more she was able to.

“You look tired, Grace. I’m going to take you to your suite and run a bath for you. I’ve texted Merry and she’ll have a late dinner ready for us by the time you’re out.”

“I was hoping for the opportunity to talk to you,” she admitted. It cost her to ask, which surprised her when she was so assertive in her work. She didn’t want to say anything that would drive Vittorio further from her.

“I’d like that, bella. Let me run your bath, get you in it and I’ll take care of my hands. I don’t want them swelling too much. We can talk over dinner.”

She nodded, grateful there was a little more time to think about what she wanted to say. She was tense and hopefully, a bath would allow her to relax. There was a special plastic casing that fit over her shoulder and arm to prevent the bandages and sling from getting wet. It had to be fitted to her and she couldn’t do that.

She knew Vittorio had been the one to help her in the hospital but having him help her when she wasn’t looking her best was disconcerting. He didn’t offer to call one of the female members of his family or Merry to come help her. She knew if she protested his help, he would stop instantly, but she didn’t want him to go, not even for the sake of her modesty. She hoped that by giving him this, he would understand she really wanted to fix things between them.

She watched Vittorio cross the room to the elegantly appointed bathroom attached to her bedroom. The room was exceptionally large with golden faucets in the double sink as well as in the deep bathtub. Grace stood a little helplessly watching him, unsure of herself. Uncertain what to say or do. He dumped lavender and honey salts into the water, his wrist checking the temperature. He did things like that for her almost without thinking.

“You do know, Grace, that you have every right to ask what Eloisa was talking about. You haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t want you to think you have.”

Her heart accelerated. He looked so casual draped there on the side of the tub, one hand under the spray of water, testing it. “I could have handled things better.”

He sent her a faint smile, but it was the first she’d had from him in a week and she wanted to celebrate.

“We both could have handled things better. Let me help you with your clothes. I’ll get you settled and then take care of my hands. By the time I’ve showered, you should be ready to get out. I’ve had a button installed that you can push if there’s an emergency, right here beside the tub. I’ll come immediately.”

“So will security, no doubt.”

She got another smile, and this one made the butterflies in her stomach take wing.

“No doubt,” he agreed. He dried off his hands and crossed to stand in front of her. His fingers found the buttons of her blouse. “I’ll admit that I’ve discovered I can be a jealous man and I don’t exactly want other men looking at your body, but if you’re in trouble, I’d rather we both have to put up with it than take a single chance on anything harming you.”

Her entire body grew hot with every brush of his hands on her through the thin material. She had never considered jealousy a good trait, but the way he said it, that soft, low tone that seemed to find its way inside her, coupled with her growing knowledge of him, she didn’t mind in the least. Vittorio wouldn’t display jealousy unduly. She would have to really do something blatant, flirt outrageously or even go out with another man before he would react. She was certain enough that she could enjoy his tone and the way he so gently pushed the sleeve from her good arm and then, after unhooking the sling, slid the blouse off her injured shoulder.