“You like him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” My head whips around this time to find everyone in the room watching me. “Look, he’s my bodyguard, and it’s not strange to keep glancing at him every once in a while, but it doesn’t mean I like him.”
“We all have bodyguards, Elena,” Arianna cuts in. “None of us looks at ours the way you look at yours.”
Christ, I don’t even want to ask.
“I don’t like him,” I say firmly, turning back to folding my clothes. “Now, clear out of my room and get some rest. We have a long flight to catch tomorrow.”
“Who cares, we’ll be flying in style on the Rossi jet anyway!”
“No whining, everyone out!”
A series of protests and groans echo in the room, but movements follow as they bid me goodnight and leave my bedroom. I don’t release the air I was holding in my lungs until the door shuts, and I am finally alone in my room.
Get a grip, Elena!
Soon, I’ll be done with my PhD in art history, and I can’t afford any distractions over some physical attraction! No more thinking about bodyguards or their muscular bodies and dark cool eyes—
I jump at the knock on the door, clutching my heart as I get to my feet. I open the door expecting to see one of the girls asking to sleep in my room, but my breath catches in my throat when I am met by the large frame of my bodyguard.
Christ, he’s so big.
“Miss Marino,” he says in a deep baritone that sends my heart racing as it always does when he speaks to me.
“Um, hi, hey, what’s up… What’s the matter?”Jesus Christ, Elena!“I mean, is something wrong?”
Amusement seems to dance in his eyes, and I feel my cheeks flush. “We need to review the schedule for the trip home tomorrow,” he says. “Do you mind if I come in?”
“No, sure, I mean, I don’t mind.”
I close my eyes tightly in mortification and move aside to let him in. I give myself a second, willing my heart to calm down before shutting the door, essentially leaving us alone inside my bedroom. I realize too late what I’ve done and question if it would be awkward to reopen it now or just leave it closed. He takes the decision from me when he turns to speak to me.
“The plane leaves at eleven, so we need to be on the yacht by nine,”he says, and I try to focus on his words instead of the way his presence fills the room.
That face…all those angles. Christ, those eyes could tempt a nun. So blue, like the sky on a clear summer day but still, they carry such depth…and secrets.Such heat.
“You’ll have to be up by seven if you don’t want to rush through the morning…”
How can someone look so good in a simple black suit and white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar now, revealing hints of tattoos on his chest. I’ve gotten peeks at those tattoos for weeks, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious what they—whathelooks like naked. All those muscles, firm and ridged.
I want him.
“Miss Marino?” My eyes snap to his, flushing when I realize I can’t remember a single thing he just said. My heartjumps to my throat when he arches a single brow, those stunning eyes wiping every thought from my brain. “Are you alright?”
Am I?
I don’t know anymore.
“I’m fine,” I stammer, running a shaky hand over my neck, suddenly hot. “You said we need to be at the airport by seven–”
“Eleven.”
“Oh…right.”
“Are you feeling sick?” He takes a step forward, and a shudder runs through me when he brings the back of his hand to my forehead. “You can’t be drunk. You didn’t have a sip of champagne tonight.”
I bite back a whimper when he brushes hair from my face with fingers that are scarred and calloused. A move that dampens my panties with moisture.
