Read Online The Muscle Part Three by Michelle St. James - Free Book Online Page B

around the house. They hadn’t been disrespectful of her. But they reminded her too much of Diego with their hooded eyes and intent stares, and she still wasn’t entirely sure they could be trusted. She understood why Luca had to work with them — she just didn’t like it.
    Most of the paintings she’d destroyed were a lost cause, the canvas shredded to the point of no repair. But there were two that might be saved. They would never be the same, of course. But with a little work and some creativity, she might be able to salvage them.
    The door to the studio opened and Luca appeared.
    “Busy?” he asked.
    She smiled. “Never too busy for you.”
    He entered the room and stood behind her, studying the remnants of the painting over her shoulder. “Looks like you might be able to save that one.”
    She looked up at him, leaned into the pressure of his hands on her shoulders. “I was thinking the same thing.”
    “Marco brought home food. You hungry?” he asked.
    She nodded. “A little.”
    He reached out, touched the bridge of her nose. “Why the worry?”
    “What do you mean?” she asked.
    “You get a little line on the bridge of your nose when you’re worried about something.”
    “Do I?” She was touched that he would notice something about her even she hadn’t known.
    He nodded, bent down to kiss the top of her head. “So? Talk to me.”
    “I feel… nervous with so many people in the house,” she finally admitted.
    “So many men, you mean,” he said softly.
    She nodded, surprised to feel the sting of tears. She knew that she had suffered psychological damage because of what Diego’s men had done to her, but most of the time she was able to push it into a tiny box far, far away from the rest of her world. Luca had helped her work through her sexual fears, both by being patient and by not treating her too delicately when all she wanted was to feel like a woman. He’d soothed her in the middle of the night when she sat up with a start, skin coated with sweat, heart pounding like a trapped bird from one of her nightmares.
    But there were still moments when she was scared. Even moments when she was ashamed. Marco and Elia were so different from the men her brother had surrounded himself with. Even Farrell, a man of few words with a gaze that could cut steel, felt like a different kind of animal.
    Sanchez’s guards made her nervous — in more ways than one. She would be glad when this was over and they could be on their way. But in the meantime, she couldn’t hide in the studio forever.
    Luca lowered himself to his heels so he was eye to eye with her in the chair. He took her hand, gently stroking her palm with his thumb.
    “Look at me, Isabel.” She did, because she could never not look at him when he asked. Because looking at him had been the one thing that had kept her sane since Sofia’s disappearance. “I will never, ever let anyone hurt you again. Ever. I promise. Okay?”
    She hesitated, then nodded. He was good and kind, but he was also fierce when the situation called for it, and she knew he would stop at nothing to protect her.
    He stood and held out his hand. “Now come on. It’s Chinese. And you know how I like Chinese.”
    She smiled and took his hand. In four days they would conduct their raid on Diego’s shipment at the harbor. They would hand Diego over to Sanchez — she’d made a point of not thinking about what would be next for him, he’d forfeited a right to her love when he was cruel to Sofia — and then the future would be in front of them like a real life dream.
    Just four more days.

15
    “ T hink we can trust them ?” Farrell said, voice low as he eyed Sanchez’s men scattered around the pool.
    They were having one last meal before the raid on Diego’s shipment — or Lorenzo’s, as Sanchez liked to refer to it. Luca looked at Sanchez’s men. He’d developed an uneasy rapport with them in the four days since they’d opened fire on the Fuentes house. They