Free The Sacrificial Lamb by Elle Fiore Page B

her nose partially obscured a set of full lips. She was pouting, which made her look even more young and childlike. Her inner arm was trapped between them, her hand curled loosely against her neck. The other one was grasping the lapel of his jacket tightly.
    Domenic wanted to continue holding her, but he knew the buffoons would be returning soon, and he didn’t want to be found in a compromising position. Regretfully, he loosened her hold on his jacket. Her hand slackened easily enough, and he slid away from her, cradling her upper body until she was lying on the cot. She frowned in her sleep and made a discontented noise, but eventually it turned into a sigh as she slipped into a deeper sleep.
    After brushing her hair back from her face once more, Domenic stood up and watched her sleep for a few minutes. He wished he could pick her up and carry her away with him, but that was impossible. He hadn’t wanted to be anyone’s hero, until now. Even the mere thought of it should have scared him silly, but it didn’t. Domenic wanted to save her, and he would do just that, no matter what it took.
    There was some scuffling outside, and he realized that Marco and Vince had returned. Domenic walked to the door and went out to the main room. Both of them stood there, staring at him strangely. Looking down, he noticed his clothes were rumpled and tear stained. Patches of dampness were clearly visible against the crisp, white fabric. Fuck .
    “What the fuck are you staring at?” he asked, voice dripping acid.
    “Nothing,” they mumbled before looking away awkwardly.
    “That’s what I thought,” he grumbled. “I’m keeping an eye on you two fuck-ups.”
    Domenic walked toward the men and stepped between them, knocking them both aside with the breadth of his shoulders. He kept walking until he was out in the parking area behind the warehouse. Stopping briefly, he ran his hands through his hair in agitation before turning in a half circle, back toward the direction he came. Somehow he had to get himself under control, before the delicate house of cards he had constructed came tumbling down around him.
    Taking a few deep breaths, Domenic headed to his car. He made a decision to go see Carlo tomorrow. As he drove back to his condo, images of heroism crowded his mind.

    Alex woke up groggy and disoriented. She was suffused with red-hot shame because she had been dreaming of him. Mr. Armani had been holding her as she slept, and for one short moment, she thought she’d finally woken up from her nightmare. It didn’t take long to realize that wasn’t the case. She was still a prisoner, held captive in the horrible, run-down warehouse. Collapsing back onto the cot, she fought back more tears.
    Humiliation replaced shame when she remembered crying in front of him. She had been doing a good job of keeping the tears at bay, focusing on her anger, but it had been too much for her in the end. Thinking of Shane and getting no answer as to what they planned to do with her had pushed Alex over the edge.
    Feeling vulnerable had made her give in to a moment of weakness. She hadn’t expected him to try to comfort her, but there he was. Instinctively, she had pulled away when he touched her shoulder, but he wasn’t deterred. His touch was very light, almost tender, and it confused her. It was completely at odds with the man she had heard yelling outside this room earlier. That man still scared her, but this man was different.
    Alex had felt a tentative arm encircle her and tug gently until her face was pressed against him. After a while, the calm tenor of his voice and the feel of his fingers smoothing back her hair relaxed her to the point of slumber. She hadn’t slept well in almost a week, and while she tried to fight against her eyes closing, it had been impossible to stay awake.
    The feel of his arms around her followed her into her dreams. The room bled away, and instead they were lying in a sunny little enclave on a beach. It was