“Does Anthony live with you?” I ask, taking a bite and groaning in pleasure as I sit by the window.
“What makes you think that?” he asks with a laugh.
I shrug. “He’s always around, waiting to fetch things for you,” I say, holding up the crispy rolls as an example. “Doesn’t he have a life or time off?”
“He has a very good life, I pay him extremely well to hang around and fetch me things,” he says, smirking as he sits on the end of the bed.
He watches me eat for a few minutes before I place the carton down on the side and cross my legs. “Aren’t you hungry?”
He shakes his head. “Not for food.”
Seriously, the guy’s got the stamina of a bull.
“What do you like to do?” I ask, taking a bottle of water from the mini fridge beside me.
He takes it from me, unscrewing the cap before handing it back. “What do you like to do?” he counters.
I sigh. “I’m trying to get to know you here.”
“I work. I eat at nice restaurants. I enjoy red wine and occasionally, I visit other countries and do all that stuff there instead.”
“Don’t you have hobbies?”
He looks amused, the corners of his eyes creasing. “Work is my hobby.” His gaze dips to my mouth. “And you…” He closes the space between us, brushing his lips against mine. “You’re my new one.”
His kiss is long and slow, the kind that curls my toes and blurs every rational thought. Which is exactly why I break away, pressing a hand to his solid chest.
“Easy, Romeo. A girl’s gotta refuel.”
“I have a business trip,” he says, like it’s nothing. “A few days in Italy.”
My stomach sinks. I’d quietly hoped he’d be around—mostly so I didn’t have to go home.
“We fly tomorrow afternoon.”
“You want me to come too?”
“Of course.”
“But… what will your father say?”
Something flickers across his face—annoyance. “It’s a business trip. I need my secretary.”
The stupid part of me deflates. Right. Work. Nothing more.
“I have something important to do in the morning,” I tell him. “And I need to go back to my apartment to pack and get my passport.”
“Anthony has already packed for you.”
I blink. “What?”
He nods, completely unfazed. “He’s got everything you’ll need. He’ll also take you wherever you need to go tomorrow.”
A slow chill creeps through me. “What business is it? There’s nothing in the diary about Italy.”
“Something private.” He doesn’t meet my eyes. “Eat something. Then we’ll head to my apartment. You need rest.”
I bite back the words gathering on my tongue. Part of me likes not having to think for once—after years of looking after Mum and my brother’s, the idea of someone taking control feels… safe.Comforting.
