Page 53 of Beautiful Ruins
“Yes?”Tone probed, one brow lifting as if she were entertaining the possibility that he’d wandered into the wrong house.
Archie placed a hand over his chest in theatrical reverence.“You don’t remember me.”
Tone tilted her head, studying him with polite detachment.“Should I?”
A low chuckle rolled out of him, warm and amused.“You stitched me back together,” he reminded her.“After your charming cousin shot me in both knees.”
Her eyes narrowed, scanning her mental archive of bullet wounds.She’d treated dozens of men.Trauma blurred and faces faded.Blood was blood.
Archie tapped his cane against the marble—tap, tap.“Gianni Cavalho.Warehouse in Amiata.Atlas intervened.”
Recognition sparked slowly.
“Oh,” Tone breathed, lips parting.“The outspoken Russian.”
Archie’s smile widened like she’d just handed him a prize.“The very same.”
She looked him over properly now—broad shoulders, tailored suit, the faint rigidity in his stance.Her gaze lingered just long enough to make my insides lurch.No fucking way.
“Well, you seem to have healed well,” she observed clinically.
“I had exceptional care,” he returned smoothly, like he was discussing fine wine instead of reconstructive surgery.
Tone rolled her eyes.“Yes, I remember you clearly now,” she commented, squinting.
Archie glanced at me, then back at her.“I didn’t realize the angel who saved my legs was not only Gianni’s cousin… but your sister.”
If he could have purred the word angel, he would have.
Tone snorted softly.“I’m nobody’s angel.”
“That’s disappointing,” Archie murmured, voice dipping.“I’d grown rather fond of the image.”
She folded her arms, weight tilting to one hip.“I’m not particularly fond of Russians.”
His brow lifted with mock offense.“For obvious reasons?”
“For obvious reasons,” she stated evenly.“Bratva and mafia don’t exactly exchange Christmas cards.”
Archie grinned.“You can thank Gianni and Atlas for sparing me.I assume you’ve done so.”
“They spared you,” Tone corrected.“It doesn’t mean I have to like you.”
Archie stepped half a pace closer—not enough to crowd her, just enough to tilt the air between them.
“I’ve always appreciated a woman who mends the broken,” he murmured.
She arched a brow.“Careful.That sounded almost like flirtation.”
His smile didn’t waver.“I assure you, it was.”
The silence stretched—charged.Tone regarded him curiously, then her lips curved faintly.
“Heal properly.I’d hate to have to work on you again.”
And she brushed past him, close enough that her shoulder nearly grazed his arm.
Archie didn’t turn back to me immediately.He watched her go.
