Since he’s facing away from me, I take the opportunity to view his body and run my gaze over the muscles and tendons that undulate with each of his movements. The bronze of his skin makes him appear as though he’s a high-end model, and though his features aren’t without flaws, due to various scars and lack of perfect symmetry, he’s pretty close to perfection.
Tristano is gorgeous. There’s no disputing the fact.
“Room 230?” he asks.
At his inquiry, she snaps her jaw shut and nods. “Sí, señor.”
He walks over to his wallet, retrieves some cash, and holds it out to her. She takes it, her gaze still fastened to his bare chest. “Thank you,” he says, grabbing the cart’s handle and pulling it through the doorway. Then he shuts the door in her bewildered face.
It’s comical and I drop my head to keep from laughing, but also so he doesn’t catch me staring. After what just happened between us, I have to be more careful than ever. This man has uncovered a set of deep desires I hadn’t realized were there, and not only that, he’s brought them to the surface, rendering me unable to unsee them.
And also unable to fulfill them.
Tristano steers the cart and then parks it beside the table and chairs next to the windows. I salivate over his bodyandmy breakfast. The scent of his freshly cleansed skin and hair, along with the aroma coming from the food, brush my nose and I greedily inhale them both.
“Eat whatever you wish,” he says, gesturing to the plates covered with silver lids.
I meet his gaze, slightly frowning.
He deciphers my unspoken question and answers it with, “I’ll eat after you’ve had your fill.”
I nod while keeping my features void of any emotion. I’m still unsettled by Tristano’s ability to read me so easily and voice the thoughts in my head. Does that mean he knows how much I desired him earlier and still do? That very idea is disconcerting. However, he gave me an out and I took it.
After hesitating.
The lingering regret of my decision has yet to subside…
He selects several articles of clothing lying on top of the dresser. The items must’ve arrived while I was asleep and from what I can tell, there’s something for me as well. I hope it fits, but I’ll wear it even if it doesn't just to get rid of this filthy dress.
As soon as Tristano re-enters the bathroom, some of the edginess leaves me. I scoot to the edge of the mattress and slide down to place my feet on the floor. With quiet steps, I pad across the carpet and seat myself at the table, pulling the cart closer to me. Then I lift the lid of the plate directly in front of me to reveal eggs and chorizo, bacon, and toast. It looks more delicious than it smells and I quickly remove the remaining lids of the four other dishes. My mouth waters and my stomach answers with a tiny grumble, urging me to choose.
Grabbing the nearby utensils, I dive into my meal and groan softly. The last time I ate was almost twenty-four hours ago, right before my cousin’s wedding. So much has happened since then, and although I don’t want to, my mind chooses that moment to process everything.
My sister is safe.
That is, by far, the most important piece of information. I’d love to hear her voice on the phone, but what would be the point if I don’t plan on saying anything back? I guess I’ll have to be content with the knowledge she is alive and well, and that I’ll be reunited with her soon.
Rafael cares for my sister and he’ll ensure nothing happens to her while I’m gone. However, he’s a complication. Almost as much as Tristano. If Carina loves him, then it’s very likely we won’t be leaving Chicago and the thought has my skin crawling with anxiety. I want to be as far away from there as I can get, but everything doesn’t revolve around me. My sister’s happiness matters more to me than anything else in the world, so if she wants to be with Rafael, then I’ll stay.
Which means periodically running into Tristano after this trip has concluded. This, along with many other reasons, is why I have to keep things professional between us, despite my intense attraction to him. That would be easier to do if I hadn’t kissed him and experienced the heat of his mouth, or felt the way my skin nearly burst into flames at his touch. I could rationalize my reactions to him, but not when he’s less than ten feet away.
Even now, knowing I need to maintain my distance, I’m still drawn to him.
I’m also perplexed that what happened with Tristano didn’t frighten or disgust me, as I thought it would with any man I became intimate with. He’s not even someone I know well, or at all really, yet I felt secure in his embrace and while under his protection.
I may not like it, but I can’t deny the truth.
With a contented sigh due to a full stomach, I drop my head to rest it on the back of the chair and close my eyes. That sigh is followed by another but one of exasperation. This business meeting, which was supposed to be quick, has now turned into a full-on business trip, and based on the way Tristano acted when speaking with Octavia, it’s going to be longer than I’d like. I need this time with him shortened, not lengthened.
Because in a moment of weakness I spoke his name. And I could accidentally do it again.
I groan at that, berating myself for my lack of willpower. As if weeping and screaming in front of Tristano wasn’t bad enough, I had to compound my embarrassment by calling for him in my sleep. And why did I? He makes me feel safe, yet there’s no logical reason why. Yes, he was kind to my sister, but he also threatened me, grabbed me, and lectured me.
And he set my soul on fire.
“I assume that noise means you’ve eaten your fill?”
My eyes fly open at the sound of his voice and I lift my head. Our gazes meet and I quickly drop mine, running it over him. His dress shoes are midnight black, his slacks such a dark navy they appear black, and his shirt is a crisp white, the first couple buttons undone, exposing the strong column of his throat. Tristano looks as though he just walked the runway, if not for the damp hair and the serious expression on his face.
