I bit the hand he still had pressed over my mouth. What else was I supposed to do?
“Goddamn it,” he growled, yanking it away.
He rolled off me and flipped me over. I tried to sit up, but he shoved me back down and stood up. He bracketed my legs with his, squeezing them together, and bent over me, trapping my wrists at my sides.
I couldn’t move at all now. My hair was in my mouth, and I coughed around it. The more I coughed the more hair fell in. I felt like I would choke on it until Romolo let go of one wrist just long enough to swipe the strands away from my face.
And then he stared.
Panting, I tried to catch my breath.
His eyes made a slow descent over my body, stilling on my chest.
I glanced down and felt my cheeks heat. My dress had gotten twisted during our scuffle, and my white lace bra was showing.
His jaw tightened. He yanked the fabric back into place with more force than necessary, but the anger in his expression had been replaced with mild curiosity.
I could handle that. What I couldn’t handle was him recognizing me.
If he knew I was Mia Morales… My lungs shriveled at the thought of what he might do to me.
I started squirming, trying to get away again. “Let me go!”
“Enough,” he said gruffly. He moved my arms and pinned my wrists above my head, clamping down on them with one hand.
“No! N?—“
He shut me up by pressing his forearm straight across my mouth. I tried to bite him again, but the fabric of his suit prevented me from doing any damage.
“I’m not a chew toy,” he said through gritted teeth. “Fucking behave.”
I shook my head. I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. I just needed to get him off me. Then I could run. I’d walk back to Manhattan if I had to.
“No?” He raised a dark brow.
Another shake.
“All right then.” He crawledontothe bed and sat down across my upper thighs, his heavy bulk pressing me into the mattress. “I’ll have to call backup. If you think I’m bad, wait until you meet my brothers.”
That froze me. The prospect of two more Ferraros storming in short-circuited my brain.
Satisfied with my reaction, he lifted his forearm from my mouth a few inches, as if he was ready to slam it back down if I made another peep.
It dawned on me that screaming was probably not the smartest idea. Would Nina hear me—wherewasshe?—or would another guest?
Romolo’s gaze drilled into me. “Why were you in there spying on me?”
“I wasn’t spying on you.” My voice came out hoarse and much weaker than I wanted it to.
“Then what were you doing?” He sat up and let go of my wrists, but his body stayed exactly where it was—on top of me.
I pushed at his thighs, desperate to put some space between us, but it was like trying to push a brick wall. He didn’t budge. Not even an inch.
All I could do was huff in frustration. “I was using the bathroom when you and your girlfriend barged in. I didn’t know how to interrupt your fight.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” His eyes swept over my face, lingering, assessing.
It made me feel exposed.
