“Do you really think David is hiding under the bed in my guest room waiting to attack me?” she asked near the end of his search, exasperation clear in her voice.
Even after the events of that evening, she still didn’t get it. “When it comes to d’Angelo, anything is possible.” He could hear the Italian in his voice deepening, thickening. “Since your safety is paramount, I search the house. The entire house.”
She instantly caved. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.”
She trailed behind him, a distracting sight in his shirt and tails. The outfit hung on her slender frame, giving her a vulnerable, disheveled appearance that stirred his most primal protective instincts. She didn’t look well, her face even paler than before. Without a word, he headed for her bedroom.
“Do you want a shower before bed?” he asked. “You’d probably feel better. Then I want to take a look at your feet and make sure you don’t need stitches.”
She pulled a leaf from her hair and wrinkled her nose at it. “My feet are fine. If any of the cuts were bad enough to require stitches I wouldn’t be able to walk. That said, I definitely want a shower. I’m filthy and I think I brought half the forest home with me.” She folded her arms across her chest, the ends of his tux dribbling off her fingertips. “But I don’t want to go to bed.”
He fought back a smile. She sounded like a recalcitrant five-year-old. “You’re afraid to go to sleep. I understand. But I swear to you, Gianna, I’ll keep you safe.”
Tears filled her eyes and she stepped into his waiting arms. “It was so close, Constantine.”
“Not as close as you might think,” he lied, holding her tight against him. She was safe, he reminded himself. And relatively unharmed. “I’d tracked you as far as Calistoga and wasn’t too far behind you. I knew d’Angelo owned a lodge near there, and my father was working to get the exact address.”
She stilled. “You called Vittorio? He knows what happened?”
“I would have called His Holiness, himself, if I thought he could have given me d’Angelo’s address. Fortunately my father has excellent connections. One way or the other, I would have reached you in time.”
Her chin quivered, her jade-green eyes overflowing as emotion set in. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He released her, nudging her in the direction of the bathroom. “Try not to fall asleep in there, okay?”
She didn’t linger. Ten minutes later she emerged, pink-cheeked and smelling subtly of herbs and flowers. She’d wrapped herself in a thick, velour robe. After checking her feet and finding only minor cuts and bruises, he turned down the bed while she stripped off the robe and climbed between the sheets. He lifted an eyebrow at the thigh-length cotton shift she wore beneath. With the light behind her, it was practically transparent. He kept his eyes off the press of feminine curves thrusting against the thin cotton, all the while fighting to maintain an ironclad hold on his libido.
“I think I’d like to leave the light on,” she said, pulling the covers up to her chin.
“That’s fine.” He indicated a heavily cushioned chaise lounge chair covered in antique-rose velvet. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
She frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous, Constantine. You’ll never get to sleep on that. It’s way too small. Use the guest room.”
“I’m staying right here.” His voice brooked no opposition. He held up his hand when she would have argued. “You’ll sleep better, piccola, having someone close by. And I’ll sleep better having you where I can keep watch over you.”
She examined the chair again, then him. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Knowing that all I have to do is open my eyes and see you, safe and sound, will put me right out.”
Tears filled her eyes again. “Thank you, Constantine,” she said in a husky voice. “You have no idea—” She broke off and shook her head.
“I think I do.” He approached and, using the utmost restraint, kissed her forehead. “Try to sleep.”