Stolen Touches - Page 72

“They couldn’t determine.” He turns his hand and entwines his fingers with mine. “I managed to train myself to shoot with my right. Now I’m even better than I was with my left. My handwriting sucks, though.” He looks down at me. “As does my typing, which you’ve probably noticed.”

“And the leg? A gunshot wound to the calf rarely requires amputation.”

“I was shot once in the ankle and twice in the calf, from short range,” he says. “There wasn’t any chance of saving it.”

I close my eyes and bury my face in the crook of his neck. “Promise me something.”

“What?”

“Please don’t get shot again.”

“It’s not like I’m running around with a target drawn over my back, Milene.” A kiss lands at the top of my head.

“Yes, you are,” I mumble into his neck. “I asked Nino why there’s no security detail on you. He said you don’t allow it.”

“If someone is persistent enough in trying to kill me, they’ll do it. Security detail or not.”

My head snaps up. “So, what, you’ll do as you’ve been doing so far and wait for it to happen?”

“No. I’ll try my best to kill them first.”

“Then, try harder damn it!”

Hi tilts his head, regarding me with interest. “Would it bother you if I got killed?”

“Jesus fuck, Salvatore!” I snap. “Would it bother me? Are you for real?”

“Yes. I want to know.”

“You want to know.” I blink, not believing what I’m hearing. “He wants to know if it would bother me if he got killed.”

“It’s a simple question, cara.”

He needs to have his head checked. “Yeah, it would bother me.” I shake my head in frustration. “Would it bother you if I got killed?”

Salvatore’s body goes still. “Do not. Ever. Ask that. Again.”

“You started this with the idiotic questions.” I take his face between my hands. “No more gunshot wounds. Promise me.”

“I’ll try.”

I sigh and close my eyes. He’ll try. Perfect.

“Does that mean you’ll start taking security detail?”

“No.”

Of course not.

“Then deal with the Irish,” I say through my clenched teeth and press my lips to his. “I want them dead.”

“I’m already working on that.” He takes a strand of my hair and wraps it around his finger. “Why are you so bloodthirsty all of a sudden?”

I stare at him, amazed by his cluelessness. He does have a problem with realizing and processing certain things if he can’t see that I’m in love with him.

“Must be PMS.” I sigh, hoping he’ll accept my answer and not question me any more, and place my head on his chest.

Salvatore’s hand lands at my nape and slides downward, lightly brushing my skin with the tips of his fingers. I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation. I’m half-asleep when his hand halts at my neck.