He barked out a laugh, but his eyes betrayed his shock. It drew out a vicious, violent pleasure through her that she could. “Of course I’m human, Ms. Fischer. With all the flaws and desires that entails.”
Her beeping watch told her it was time for her meds. While she wasn’t ashamed of her condition and all that it entailed, revealing it to Mr. Ricci made her feel exposed. This need to keep a wall between them was a strong compulsion. Which was ridiculous after all the therapy she’d put into feeling normal. “I need water.”
A glass of sparkling water appeared within seconds. Accepting it, she turned her body just a bit, which was stupid because he could see what she was up to if he moved an inch, and downed her meds. The bubbles tickled her throat, and her stomach made an embarrassingly loud growl.
She needed food and sleep, fast. Her body had supported her on this first journey, but she had to respect its limits. That was the most important lesson she’d learned in the last few years. “You’re right. I can’t just storm out of here like some hapless damsel.”
His gray eyes gleamed. “I’m happy you realized the inevitability of that.”
She barely fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him. “I’d appreciate it if your staff could bring me something to eat, then drive me to the nearest hotel. I promise to eat my meal quietly and leave without grabbing anyone else’s attention. You can stop babysitting me.”
He began shaking his head even before she’d finished. She planted her hands on her hips, exasperated. “You said you owned the whole goddamned town. Why isn’t that possible?”
“I didn’t say that it wasn’t possible.”
“Then, why are you shaking your head?”
“I would like to keep an eye on you. While you clearly possess a lot more sense than Matteo, I can’t trust you to go running to him and betray your past to the Bianchis.”
“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”
“But you’re the one who could get him in trouble, which is why I have to control you.”
Sam wanted to continue arguing with him, just for the heck of it, but she was fast losing steam. “Fine. Lock me up, for all I care, and throw away the damn key.”
“Do not tempt me, Ms. Fischer.”
Her head jerked up.
There was no humor in his eyes as he extended his hand. “Come.”
She eyed the double doors of his study with trepidation. “I’m not a fan of big crowds and loud, noisy celebrations. With this party, I’d prefer to avoid any more speculation.”
“It’s a little late for that. Angelina is a huge gossip. The news of my secret liaison will have already reached my parents and all the cousins. Especially since I never bring myentertainmenthome.”
As she watched, he pressed a spot behind one of the bookshelves, and an invisible door opened. A faintly illuminated, narrow corridor emerged in front of them.
Sam nearly jumped in excitement. “You have a secret corridor in your study! Do you know how many times when I was in the hos—how many times I wished to escape like this?” She looked around the high-ceilinged study with new eyes. “Whatisthis place, anyway?”
His eyes crinkled at the edges. “The villa used to be a monastery a long time ago. So there are a couple of secret passageways still intact. Not afraid of confined spaces, then?”
“Not at all.”
His fingers held her elbow gently as he ushered her in. They couldn’t fit side by side. Instantly, he turned to the side, fitting his body around hers. There was something so accommodating about the gesture that Sam stilled, her heart pumping overtime.
“Come, Ms. Fischer. We’re both exhausted.”
“That was a dirty trick you played earlier,” Sam said, following him along the cool, dimly lit corridor. “You could have just said I was a friend.”
“Angelina is very possessive of Matteo.”
“That’s not healthy,” she added softly.
Mr. Ricci’s grip around her arm tightened. “I’d say justifiably so, given Matteo’s extracurricular activities, Ms. Fischer,no?”
“If you’re going to make a prisoner out of me, you might as well use my name.” She saw the shake of his head from behind. “Are you saying no to everything I ask on principle?”
“I have my reasons,” he said cryptically. “Will you call me Alessandro, then?”
