It seems unfair.
Yes, on paper, he’s got a life most others would kill for. Power, money, and control of a massive empire with his brothers. Beyond that, he’s so handsome, it hurts to look at him. I’m sure that all he has to do is snap his fingers and a dozen gorgeous women come running to jump into his bed.
The thought of him in another woman’s bed makes my stomach twist, but I don’t know why. I have no claim on Alessio. All we did was have a one-night stand, which never would have happened had we each known who the other was. We may as well live on two different planets, and if there’s anything that today proved to me beyond a doubt, it’s that I don’t belong in the deadly world of crime he inhabits.
I grab some utensils from him, trying not to notice how sexy his hands are. His ink is intricate. Skulls, roses, a cross, and other symbols all interwoven together. I want to ask what they all mean, but I shouldn’t care. The more I learn about him, the deeper I’ll get.
I lodge the utensils in their basket and straighten, realizing the sink is empty. “Is that it?”
“Yeah.” He washes his hands methodically, drawing my attention back to them.
I remember how they felt on my body, so gentle and knowing, capable and strong.
“What are my rules while I’m trapped here tomorrow?” I ask, desperately trying to distract myself.
He finishes rinsing and wipes his hands dry on a plush black towel that’s hanging from a brass holder. The towel is monogrammed. AVA.
“There’s only one rule you need to remember here, and that’s stay the fuck inside, where you belong,” he growls.
There’s that heartless, ruthless Mafia consigliere again, coming back out to play, reminding me of all the reasons jumping back into bed with him is not just wrong but impossible. No matter how tempting it is, especially now that we’re sleeping in the same apartment, nothing but a hallway and two doors between us.
“Trust me, the last thing I want to do is get kidnapped by some psycho Russian mobster.” I move to the sink and wash my hands now. “I’ll be staying in until it’s time to go home.”
Wherever home ends up being. I have no ties to Iowa any longer. Just my things in a storage cube, but that will be easily rectified when I have it shipped to my next address.
“And no going in my bedroom, even though I know you’ll find that one difficult.”
I turn off the water and dry my hands on the towel too. “Ha-ha,” I deadpan. “What, no torture chamber that I need to keep out of?”
He holds my gaze, looking into my soul, and what I see in his eyes is terrifying. “Not here.”
A chill sweeps over me. He’s not joking about this, but I was.
Get it together, Isla. This guy is not at all who you thought he was. He’s a monster.
A monster I can’t help but want.
I swallow hard. “Okay, so no torture chamberhere. Noted.” I hang the towel back up. “I think I’ll head to bed with Cid. My e-reader is calling. Mind if I use the shower before I do?”
I’m trying to be a polite guest. I’ve never spent the night in the apartment of a virtual stranger I happen to have hooked up with before, and I have no idea how to navigate this. It’s awkward as hell.
“Be my guest,” he says, unsmiling.
The look he gives me is enough to set me aflame. My ovaries are about to explode, because they’re clearly not as discerning as the rest of me.
“Thanks for dinner,” I chirp in a voice that’s annoyingly high. “Have a great night.”
“You too, Jane.”
The final taunt is difficult to ignore, but somehow I do. It’s been a hot minute since he called me that, so baby steps, I guess.
I’m wincing at myself as I stalk down the hall to the guest bathroom he showed me when we first arrived. I leave the door to my room cracked for Cid, because he’s been curling up with me and keeping me company every night. And by keeping me company, I mean he’s been hogging the king-size and even occasionally making himself at home on my head.
Everything is stocked and ready for me in the bathroom, the small travel bag where I keep my face products, shower gel, toothbrush, and shampoo waiting on the counter. I take a deep breath, lock the door, and tell myself that I can do this. I can stay in the same space as Alessio and not give in to his smoldering mobster sex god ways. He’s an evil man. A man who’s every bit as bad as the Russian he’s trying to protect me from. I can’t lose sight of what and who he really is.
I quickly slip out of my clothes, take down my hair, and turn on the shower. It’s been a long-ass day with a whole lot of unwelcome, terrifying revelations. The second I’m closing the glass shower door and the steamy water hits me, I realize how tired I am. I close my eyes, letting the water run over my scalp and down my back, easing some of the tension between my shoulders that I didn’t realize I was still carrying.
I stay that way for a while, trying to ground myself and relax. When I finally open my eyes, I see it. A large spider with long, hideous legs on the wall of the shower, moving toward me.
