Confessed (Vargas Cartel #3) by Lisa Cardiff Page A

what I’ve done to you.”
    “Are you talking about this?” I held up my arm, waving the still pink and puckered letter A above my head.
    He swallowed and nodded.
    “Well, I don’t give a shit about it. Just like everything that happened over the last few days, it will fade. It can be fixed. Everything can be fixed. I only care about us and our future.” I’d spent every moment of the last five days reliving our moments together and dreaming of being with him again and he was pushing me away…again.
    “You’re right,” he murmured, guiding me into the bathroom by my shoulders. “We’ll take this one day at a time.”
    He turned on the bath and poured some bath salts into the water. Without meeting my eyes, he pulled my t-shirt over my head and slipped my panties down my legs swiftly and without a comment. Goosebumps kissed my greedy skin, and I swayed on my feet. My soul wept for his touch. His kindness. His love.
    The second the bath filled, he tipped his head toward the tub. “Get in and relax.”
    For an uneasy second, I stared at his face, willing him to see me…really see me. I wanted him to tell me he still loved me. I wanted him to promise me we’d have a family and grow old together. Words circled the tip of my tongue like marbles, but nothing came out. I didn’t know where to start.
    He sighed heavily and combed his hands through his inky hair. My gaze fixated on the slight tremor. It was the only indication he still cared. Any sane girl would have run away a long time ago. But here I was, exposing myself to more heartache, praying he wouldn’t push me away again.
    “Just leave it alone for tonight,” he whispered. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Just get in and let me take care of you. I need to take care of you.”
    My shoulder muscles crawled up my neck. I wanted to talk to him. I needed to talk to him. Every passing second another emotional door slid shut between us. By tomorrow, I’d need a battering ram to get through to him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
    “Please,” he whispered, briefly shuttering his eyes. “Don’t fight me on this.”
    A weighty exhalation whistled through my lips, releasing hundreds of unsaid words. He was right. I was tired. I ached. My arm still throbbed.
    Wordlessly, I slipped into the bathtub. A moan tumbled from my lips without my permission, and my eyes fluttered closed like butterfly wings. Steaming hot water lapped around my neck. God, this felt amazing. I could sit here for hours.
    “Are you hungry?” he asked.
    I rolled my head from side to side without opening my eyes. “No. Noah brought me a plate of food before I fell asleep.”
    His feet shuffled on the tiles. “Good. A doctor will be here tomorrow to take a look at your injuries.” He cleared his throat. “And to do an ultrasound.”
    My eyes cracked open, and I raised my injured arm out of the water. “My arm and hand are hurt, but other than that, I think I’ll be okay. The ultrasound can wait until we get home.”
    “It’s already scheduled and I’m concerned about you. Both of you.”
    “Okay.” I shrugged. “When are we flying home?”
    For strangled beats, he stared blankly at the wall, the expression on his face tough to interpret.
    “Ignacio’s jet will take you home the day after tomorrow.”
    “I can’t wait to leave.” My eyes slid closed again. “Are you glad we’re done with this place?”
    He kissed my forehead. “Dunk your head under the water,” he said, not answering my question. “Let me wash your hair.”
    The bumps of my spine tapped against the acrylic tub as I plunged into the warm water. When I surfaced, Ryker squirted shampoo into his hand and massaged it into my scalp. Thirty seconds later, all my confusion melted away. I didn’t want to worry about tomorrow or next month. I wanted to enjoy this moment with him.
    Cupping his hands together, he dribbled water over my head again and again until my hair was free of suds.
    “Thanks,” I said.
    “My