Chapter 6 - Safe House
By sunrise, Gabriel’s tactical team, led by his trusted second-in-command, Marco, had cleaned the kitchen and secured the perimeter. Gabriel refused to go to a hospital, forcing his private physician to patch his ribs up right on the sofa in Mara’s upstairs apartment.
For forty-eight hours, Mara stayed by his side, wiping his feverish brow, feeding him homemade chicken broth, and forcing him to rest.
On the second night, Gabriel woke up to find Mara sitting in the armchair beside his bed, her head resting on her arms, fast asleep.
The harsh moonlight softened her feature, catching the wavy strands of dark chestnut hair spilling over her shoulders. Gabriel sat up slowly, wincing at the pull on his stitches, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
He reached out, his calloused fingers gently stroking her cheek.
Mara stirred, opening her eyes immediately. "Gabriel! What are you doing out of bed? Sit back down!"
"Mara," he whispered, capturing her hand as she reached for him. "Look at me."
Mara paused, her breath catching in her throat as she met his intense, burning hazel gaze.
"I brought war to your door," Gabriel said, his voice thick with emotion. "I endangered your life, your bakery, your peace. You should hate me. You should take your four ovens and run as far away from me as you can."
"I tried to hate you," Mara whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I really tried, Gabriel. I threw flour at you. I yelled at you. But you kept coming back."
"Because I can't breathe without you," Gabriel rasped, pulling her up into his lap despite the pain in his side. He wrapped his strong arms around her waist, burying his face into the soft warmth of her neck. "I don't care about the six weeks, Mara. I don't care about the contract. I love you. I have loved you since the second day I walked into your bakery and watched you yell at a supplier for delivering bruised peaches."
Mara let out a watery laugh, framing his sharp jaw with her soft hands. "You are an idiot, Gabriel Moretti."
May you like
"Your idiot," he corrected softly.
Mara leaned down and kissed him—a deep, passionate, unhurried kiss that tasted of sweet promise and lingering fear. Gabriel groaned against her lips, pulling her flush against his broad chest, sealing their unspoken bond in the quiet dark of her apartment.
