He grinned at me, and my legs turned to jelly. “I don’t need much. Quality over quantity, Rosalia.”
Then he was gone.
* * *
I creptaround the room after he’d left me alone.
One entire wall was made of glass. Buildings were the view, and there was so many of them that it made the scene congested.
The light coming in touched all the dark spaces, bringing them to life.
The first place I visited was his bathroom. It was about the same size as the bedroom, with the same colors throughout. The glass wall from the bedroom continued in here. I was pretty sure it was made for privacy. I could see out, but hopefully no one could see in.
It almost reminded me of his bath suite at Club D, except it wasn’t as warm. The floors and walls were made of slate-colored stone, though I thought maybe it was actually marble. A shower that could fit five took up half of one wall, while the tub in the center was sunken. It was a miniature version of a swimming pool with views of the city that stretched for miles.
A hot shower or a bath seemed like a good idea, mostly to warm up, but curiosity won out over comfort. So after I freshened up and changed into my pajamas, I searched what I assumed was Aniello’s room a little more.
His closet was as big as the bathroom. It housed numerous suits, all dark, and shoes to match underneath. The contents of the drawers were almost identical to the ones at Club D. Undershirts. Boxers. Socks. Here he had a variety of soft t-shirts and sweatpants. And in a few drawers, jewelry was neatly arranged against velvet. Watches and signet rings.
An island stood in the middle of the room, separating the two sides.
The other side was almost empty, except for a couple of dresses, a couple of women’s shirts and a few pairs of jeans or pants. The clothes I’d packed and taken with me were among them. He must have hung them up after he’d brought my bag to the room.
The man was as meticulous as he was methodical.
Everything seemed to have a purpose in his life. Everything had a place. He had hard limits, but nothing seemed off limits to him.
Including me.
The forbidden peach.
I smiled a little, but then it fell when I thought of Sharon. She’d said they were childhood friends, but I wondered if they had ever been more, or if she was still something to him. Even though something existed between us, everything else in his life was such a mystery to me.
As I ran my hand along each suit, the smell of him whirled in the air, and I inhaled, hoping his pillows would carry the same scent.
They didn’t. They just smelled fresh and clean like the rest of the apartment, but this was an empty place. I wondered if he only came here to change his clothes. I wondered how many places and cars he owned. I wondered what he was doing.
I wondered and wondered and wondered while I lay back on the bed, Bambina curled up next to me in the thick blanket, and stared at the ceiling.
Even though my body was exhausted, my mind was wide-awake.
“Can’t sleep,amica?”
Sitting up some, I rested on my elbows. Cilla was dressed in pajamas too. With the light streaming in as it was, I really looked at her face. She looked exhausted. I wondered if my face mirrored hers.
“No,” I said. “Maybe because this place is new.”
“And so frigging cold. Assanti keeps it a degree above the morgue in here.” She shivered. “He’s either a germaphobe, or he wants to live in Alaska, or he keeps the air on full blast because he’s hardly here. Probably doesn’t want it to have that not-lived-in smell. I tried to turn the AC down—or is it up?—but it’s one of those complicated ones. I’m worried I’m going to accidentally turn it colder.”
“You want this blanket?” I lifted it up some. It was humungous and so soft.
She smiled at me, but it seemed sad. “No,amica.I have one that’s similar. Want to watch a movie?”
“Sure.”
Cilla bribed Bambina off the blanket with the promise of a treat, and while they headed toward the kitchen to get one, I lifted the hefty blanket up, wrapped it around myself, and took a seat on the couch, getting comfortable. Bambina jumped up a second later, burying herself underneath it.
“What do you want to watch?” Cilla asked, turning the TV on.
