Page 155 of When She Tempts (The Fallen)
In the end, he choseme.
I close my eyes and let it all sink in.
Inside the nightstand, I find a pink highlighter and run it over the passage just as there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
Giorgio steps in. His jacket is missing, his shirt stained and half-undone. My eyes fall to his pants. They’re ripped and bloody.
And still, the sight of him makes warmth spread over my cheeks.
“Oh my God. You shouldn’t be up.” I jump off the bed. “You’re hurt. Did anyone treat your wounds?”
He takes a hobbled step inside and closes the door behind him. “It’s nothing, Mari. I needed to see you.”
My arms link with his, and I lead him to sit down on the edge of the bed. He’s warm to touch.
“You’re running a fever.” I press my palm against his forehead.
“They gave me something to bring it down.”
“Gio, you need to rest. Lie down.”
He follows my direction, his tired eyes glued to me. “Sit close to me.”
I scooch over and sit cross-legged by his side. He places his palm over my knee, and his warmth seeps through my leggings.
It feels so damn right.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, covering his hand with mine.
“I’ve felt better,” he says softly. “But I’ll be fine in a day or two. It’s just a few scratches.”
I brush my fingers lightly over his leg, and a white bandage peeks out through the rip in his pants. It’s stained with blood. “You’re still bleeding. Did Polo do this?”
Darkness seeps into his gaze. “Yes. He tried to fight me, but at the end, he paid for what he did to Allegra, Tommaso, and you.” His voice is hard, and it matches his expression.
“That couldn’t have been easy,” I say softly. “He was your brother.”
“No, Mari. He was nothing to me after what he did. Killing him was justice.” He glances away. “We are not defined by whose blood runs through our veins. We’re defined by our choices. His were exceptionally poor. I won’t miss him.” He closes his eyes.
I’ve never seen him look this tired. After a few minutes, I think he may have fallen asleep, but when I shift slightly, he cracks his eyes open.
“Don’t leave. I know things aren’t right between us, but just for tonight… Please, don’t leave.”
“I won’t.” I pick at my cuticle before I meet his gaze again. “I read your letters.”
Surprise flashes across his expression. “You did?”
“Mm-hmm.”
His jaw works. “What did you think?”
“You seemed apologetic,” I say mildly.
It makes him crack a smile. “I’m glad that came through.”
“And they explained a lot about what was going on in your head through it all.”
