I have no intention of remaining a bachelor for long.
With a grunt, I roll her luggage across the gleaming marble floors. “Let me show you to your room.”
“Okay.” She follows after me along the wide hallway that leads to two of the four suites. Two on this level and two upstairs.
Nerves prickle beneath my skin as I open her bedroom door. I scowl at my sudden apprehension. “Here we are. This is your space.”Until you’re officially mine and in our bed, where you belong. “I hope it’s suitable.”
Her gasp immediately eases my nervous tension. I think she likes it.
Which is good, because my future wife deserves everything she desires.
CHAPTER 3
Elena
Bossy. Arrogant. Utterly gorgeous. That sums up Maximo Pontrelli, my protector and second cousin from distant family in Italy. While I was born and raised in New York, he’s from our ancestor’s homeland. We never even met until I was twenty-one and showed up on their doorstep, seeking refuge. That day is seared into my memory forever.
I met my father’s cousin, Vittorio Pontrelli, who I thought would be my guardian and protector while I was staying with great-aunt Antonia. But when we arrived at her home, he announced that his eldest son would be keeping an eye on me. That’s when Maximo appeared and I drowned in his stunning blue-green eyes. He looked like every girl’s fantasy hero with that strong jawline and wavy black hair just long enough to sweep into his eyes. My fingers itched to brush it from his forehead.
I was both instantly attracted to him and repulsed by everything he represents.
To this day he remains the most annoyingly handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s also everything I despise in mafiosos. Broody, suave, and way too attractive in that dark Armani suit.
Most of all, he’s dangerous.
Yes, he’s in charge of my security, but that hardly makes him safe. He’s trapping me here with him for no reason—other than to stroke his own ego. I’m sure of it. I don’t need his protection, I’m no longer his ward, but he’s apparently too attached to being in control to give up his position. To give up his power over me.
Which is a setback, an obstacle to my escape. How long is he going to hold me here under the guise of protection?
Wariness swims through my veins. I hate how he makes me so nervous that I can barely think straight, much less articulate my thoughts. When I’m around him I always feel too warm, like the room’s too hot and there’s not enough air in the space.
He opens the door to my room—at least I’ve been given my own sanctuary—and my breath hitches.
Everything is…pink. My favorite color.
For several long seconds, I stand there and take it all in. Various shades of pink come together harmoniously in the space, from the palest pale to a vibrant shade of magenta for accents. It’s not a little girl’s room, it’s sophisticated and mature. Stylish, even.
In addition to consisting entirely of the color I love, bookshelves line the walls, and a wide, furry chair sits beneath a floor lamp. The room’s perfect for reading, and can certainly house my collection of books. It’s like the room was designed especially…for me.
With a confused frown, I turn to Maximo, noting the satisfaction in his breathtaking sea green eyes. They remind me of the ocean every time we make eye contact. An ocean I could drown in if I’m not careful.
How did he know my favorite color? My love for books and reading? This space is my dream room, like he snatched the vision straight out of my head. But he can’t possibly know that. How could he?
I’ve known him for several years, but he’s always been professional, aloof, and at times, even cold. Since I spent most of that time holed up in my great aunt’s house, Maximo rarely had to be in my presence. He set up the initial security system then went about his business as usual, only checking in on me a few times each year when he visited Aunt Antonia.
But all that time, he must have been watching me… Right? Or else he had someone spying on me. Both possibilities make me uncomfortable, until I shake those crazy thoughts from my head. Maybe he asked Ravenna. My sister knows how much I love pink Even so, this is what he did with that information? Bring my fantasy into reality? Why?
Suddenly, I’m all too aware of how close we’re standing. My skin heats. My elbow tingles as if I can still feel the ghost of his fingers from earlier. Why had he touched me like that? He’s never touched me before. He’s barely ever glanced my way. I mean nothing to him. I’m a job, an obligation, nothing more.
Except this room says otherwise. It tells a different story.
My spine tingles with a chill. Maximo’s been acting differently since I got off that jet. What’s changed? I don’t understand.
“Do you like it?” he asks, openly studying my face.
I give the room one more sweeping glance, playing at nonchalance. “It’s fine.”
“Fine?” He frowns.
