My Dark Romeo: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance(119)

Dallas shivered inside my arms until her breathing evened out and I knew she’d fallen asleep.

Another thing that fell asleep was my arm beneath her body, but I didn’t dare move an inch.

Not even when an hour turned into two, then three, then four, and I was certain I would have to amputate the whole limb after she woke up.

In fact, I didn’t give much attention to my arm at all, because finally—fucking goddamn finally—Dallas sweat out her fever.

I knew her fever broke when the sheets beneath us pooled with scentless perspiration. She squirmed and groaned as the sickness escaped her body.

I couldn’t do much but stroke her damp hair, kiss the back of her neck, and watch as she crawled back to health.

The entire time I held her, I was in awe of how I felt.

How I was capable of giving someone love without expecting them to return an ounce.

In awe of how I senselessly slipped back into her bed.

The place where my heart would surely be broken.





I stirred to life in the darkened room, stretching in my damp sheets.

White stars danced across my vision as reality seeped in. Romeo lay beside me, his muscular body draped over mine.

He’s still here.

I wiggled my fingers and toes, trying to keep calm.

I decided not to tell him he shouldered the blame for my body’s reluctance to heal. But in my heart, I knew the truth.

From the moment he stormed out of the kitchen and ignored me, venomous unease slithered into my limbs, latching onto each organ until I struggled to stand, breathe, exist.

While my tear ducts never seemed to get the memo, the rest of my body remained in perfect sync with my soul.

Both craved Romeo.

And both stubborn entities went on strike until they got him.

Yet again, my romance books proved right. Love is an accident. Something that occurs completely out of your control with no regard for your safety.

At first, the desire to reach out enticed me. Then my fever spiked, my bones descending into unending ache.

The more time passed, the worse I felt.

The worse I felt, the angrier I got that he hadn’t even checked on me once.

He was here now.

I didn’t know if it was out of obligation, reluctance, or genuine worry. It didn’t matter.

Stupid gratitude fueled each breath. I felt all better now. Brand new, in fact. And eager to find my way back into my husband’s good graces.

How convenient, then, that we were both naked in my bed. I wiggled my butt against his cock, springing it to life within seconds.

For someone so against breeding, he wielded a reliably virile response.

Plastering my back to his chest, I propped my head on his shoulder and reached for his cock.

He clasped my wrist before I slipped my fingers into his briefs. “No, thank you.”

My breath hitched. Blood roared between my ears.

I met his eyes. Cold and lifeless, they belonged to the man at the debutante ball. Not the one who made me hot chocolate and agreed to give me the baby I longed for, to sacrifice his own plans and dreams for my own.

“You don’t want me anymore?” I tried to sound casual.

“I want you more than I want my next meal. My next sleep. My next breath. But I cannot afford you, Shortbread. Giving in to you just might kill me.”

Feeling my eyes flare, I jerked my face back. “What are you talking about?”

He slid aside, swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, and slipped his pants on with his back to me. “Are you well?”

“I…uh…yes.” I sat up, dizzy. I told myself it was from the sudden movement and not the direction of conversation. “I don’t think I have a fever anymore.”

“You don’t.” So, he’d checked. “Hettie is here. Vernon, too. I spoke to Dr. Reuben. He’ll arrive later tonight to check on you. He recommended an extra dose of medicine to ward off the remnants of illness.”

I scrunched my nose. “It’s gross.”

“It’s medicine.” He reached for the tiny plastic cup, filled it to the line with purple cough syrup, and pressed it against my lips. “Drink it.”

I shook my head, my lips zipped shut.

“Shortbread.”

Another head shake.

I knew if I opened my mouth, he’d tip it in. Not only did it taste expired, it also came with an hours-long aftertaste.

With the cup still kissing my lips, Romeo lowered his nose, tracing it up my neck, along my jaw, and to my ear.

I released a moan, just in time for him to tip the medicine into my throat and whisper, “Swallow it.”

Fair play didn’t even exist in his dictionary, did it?

Frowning, I gulped every drop. “It’s disgusting.”

“Good. Remember the taste, and never get sick again.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Did you or did you not go ice skating without wearing a coat? And don’t deny it. You left time-stamped receipts to the rink in Rockville Town Center on your vanity. Plus, I confirmed with Hettie.”

“Fine. I should’ve layered up.”

He collected his wallet and phone, shoving them into his pocket.

“Are you leaving?” I squeaked, watching him button his shirt.

My eyes missed him so much, they didn’t dare blink.