But God help me, all I want is to make Darianmine.
I drag myself out of bed again at seven, shower, and have time to check in with the night guards before shouts pull me out of the security room. Down the hallway I see Chops Lollo blocking the door to the west upstairs wing where we've put Gino's arm of the Bernardis. Chops is arguing with one of the guards, and a kitchen hand hovers nervously behind the two of them, clutching a breakfast tray.
"Are you serious?" Mario Vecchi snaps, glaring at Chops.
Great. This is just what I need. I stomp over, irritation simmering. "What the hell is going on here?"
Chops spins to face me, eyes blazing. "This fucker is trying to sidestepmyprotocols. I won't let that tray through until someone tests the food for poison. One of youCastellanis."
Mario bristles. "Itoldyou, dumbass, the kitchen staff would never?—"
"You think I'm going to trust your word?" Chops growls. "Ms. Rochford's safety ismyresponsibility."
Christ, it's too early for this. I snatch a piece of toast off the tray, shoving it in my mouth. "There. Happy?" I snap through a mouthful of crumbs.
Chops' face turns beet red with anger, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "You show some respect, DeLuca!" he snarls, taking an aggressive step toward me.
"Is there a problem here?"
The cool, clipped tone makes me close my eyes for a moment. Ofcoursehe would choose now to make an appearance, while I'm choking down dry toast.
I turn to find Darian regarding us with his usual poise, and the fight drains out of me. No one can stay angry around Darian for long. Chops is the same, relaxing his big, meaty fists back into big, meaty hands.
"Gentlemen," Darian says, "I overheard the discussion and I'd like to propose a solution."
He's dressed in another fancy suit, like always, and his calm demeanor only highlights my own frayed edges. He glances at me and I think of my fantasies last night, the shameful, dirty things I want to do to this man standing in front of me.
God, I'm an asshole.
"Mr. Lollo," Darian says, gently taking the tray from the silent, wide-eyed housemaid holding it, "perhaps you could accompany Elise, our staff member—" he gestures to her "—back down to the kitchen to watch Chef Laurent prepare a new meal for Ms. Rochford himself. That way you can be sure it's safe."
Chops considers the suggestion, his scowl gradually fading. "Fine," he grumbles, giving me one last glare. "But if anything happens to Ms. Rochford…"
"You have my personal assurance that Ms. Rochford will be perfectly safe during her stay at Redwood Manor," Darian says. "But I must ask you to be polite toallour staff here, who are simply doing their jobs."
I'm fucking head of security, but it's Darian who seems to appease Chops, and the guy even mutters an apology to Mario before he stomps off with Elise.
Darian turns to me. "And areyouquite finished with your breakfast, Mr. DeLuca?" A faint smile tugs at his lips.
I tease Darian a lot. He's never teased me back.
I turn to Mario. "Go pull the gate logs for me to check from overnight." I had the sudden urge to be alone with Darian, but it was a dumb move to get rid of Mario as a buffer, as I find out a second after we're alone there in the corridor.
Because my head is full of all the things I want to do to him.
"Are you alright, Raffi?" Darian asks. There's genuine concern in his voice, and there's my damn name coming out of those perfect lips again, stirring up everything I've been trying to suppress.
"Yeah." I force a smile. "I'm good." But I'm not. I'm exhausted after only a couple of hours' sleep, and those were spent tossing and turning, haunted by dreams of Darian writhing beneath me, his sweet moans filling the air as I plunged into him, taking him apart.
It's been a long time since I got a good night's rest. But it's more than just physical fatigue that weighs on me now. It's having to hold back this growing, pointless attraction. I started out flirting because I never thought it'd go anywhere. It was harmless enough.
It's not so harmless anymore.
"Thank you for tidying up last night," Darian says softy. "You were right. You did the job to my standards—better, in fact. I hope you weren't up too late."
All of a sudden, I'm wide fucking awake and feeling real damn good about the world. "No big deal. You sleep well?"
"I did, yes." That half-smile again, and then it drops as he glances around, like he wouldn't want anyone to see him smiling at me. "I'd better get on, Mr. DeLuca," he says, a little louder.
