Page 42 of Enduring Caine
“That’s quite the storm out there. The trees look like they’re all going to snap off.” The bed dipped on my right side and she adjusted the pillows propping me up. “Do you need your medication?”
“I can get it.”
She ran a hand over my cheek and kissed my forehead. “So can I.”
“Bella, I don’t actually need a nurse.” In the dim light, I couldn’t make out her face; and with the hail pelting the door, I couldn’t hear any change in her breath. The silence told me little.
Before the shower last night, she’d had a moment of panic, like she had too many times early in our relationship. Samantha Caine was a strong woman, in control of herself, but at the mercy of certain fears. And one of them was that she would lose me, like she’d lost so many others.
I’d thought she showed her love purely through actions, but it was becoming clearer that it was not just actions but acts of service. Chasing down a man who tried to kill us was not merely any reaction but done specificallyforme and those she loved. “But I suppose this one time, I’ll allow it.”
Without a word, she went to the bathroom, busied herself with my codeine and returned with a bottle of water from the selection on the desk. “Since I don’t have a phone, I can’t check… any idea how long these storms normally last?”
I sat up, cradling my arm, and accepted my nurse’s attention. “You’re thinking about Elliot?”
“It would seem awfully suspicious if we went to the bakery in this weather.”
“True.” I tossed the pills back and handed the water bottle to her. “It may pass by noon—he said he’d be there at ten and two every day.”
“Vin might have loaned me his phone, but he says they’re monitored.” She took a swig from the bottle, throwing his nickname around too easily for my comfort. “What about Cesca’s? They wouldn’t monitor her phone, would they?”
“Knowing Leo, anything’s possible.” Giovanni would have balked at that. Depending on how accurate their concerns about everyone’s safety were, he may have conceded. Would they have told her? Told my aunt?
“He brought Cesca her phone yesterday, just before that incident with him at my door.”
“Stronzo,” I muttered. How dare he treat Samantha like that. If my arm were better… but it was useless. Cristian was right. I couldn’t even protect her from my uncle’s employees.
“Leo told her to always keep it with her. I bet they at least have a GPS tag on her.”
“Elliot’s a professional. Whether we talk to him today or tomorrow makes little difference, I’m sure. Leave Cesca out of this.”
“Maybe…” She placed the bottle of water on the bedside table, but it was too dark to tell her expression, which would have given me a clue as to whether she’d listen to me or not. “What time is it now? When’s breakfast?”
“It’s still dark out and there’s a naked woman in my bed.” I urged her closer, until she slung a leg over to straddle me. No matter how injured I was, there were still things I could do to her that no other man could. “I don’t care what time it is.”
Her eyes widened as my cock hardened underneath her. “Well, good morning.”
“What do you say, bella. Shall we… ride out the storm?”
She made a humming noise, low in her throat, and slid her sex along my shaft. “Wonderful idea.”
I strode out of my room a few hours later, went to Samantha’s door and rapped on it. “Time to go for breakfast, sleepy head. You can’t stay in there all day.”
Nine o’clock and the hail had returned to rain. The thunder and lightning continued sporadically, but it had moved down the coast or further inland. My goal was to approach the staircase finial with its hidden camera, block it off, then distract the guard as I had last night.
But there was no guard. Since we arrived two days ago, there had been at least one in Samantha’s vicinity at all hours. Either they were making a poor shift change, on another floor, or my uncle had decreased her security, as he’d promised.
All I had to do was stand in front of the finial and our plan was in motion.
“I slept so—” she said from behind me, as she emerged from my room. “Oh shoot, I forgot something.”
She ducked into her room, and I left the camera to stand by her door. It was a simple switch, but she was still wearing her clothes from yesterday, so was making a quick clothing swap.
Without someone watching us, it was easy. Hopefully, it would continue this way every night, rather than having to come up with new ways to distract a bodyguard.
She swung her door open, breathtaking in skinny black pants, a pale cream blouse, and a brilliant smile. Her long hair hung loose down her back, just the way I preferred it—although slightly damp since I didn’t have a hair dryer in my room for her. “Did you hear the thunder this morning?”
“Did it wake you? There was hail, as well.” No matter how sore my arm was after our late night escapades, it was the first time we’d made love and slept in each other’s arms since the shooting. The fractured nap in the hospital bed hardly counted, nor did snuggling on the couch. And her face showed a magnificent difference for it. I produced my good elbow for her, and she slipped her hand into it.