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My heart leaps - no, soars - at her words.
Chapter 25
Romola
A kaleidoscope of colors and laughter swirls around me as Fiero guides me through the bustling party. His touch is electric, his hand on my lower back. The guests converse in hushed whispers as we pass by. My eyes dart from one curious gaze to another, and a strange feeling of we’re being watched encompasses me.
"Let's get something to drink, shall we?" Fiero suggests, trying to make me feel comfortable in this unaccustomed setting. His emerald green eyes grow larger with a look of concern.
I nod, heart pounding. His brown hair, styled effortlessly in a devil-may-care manner, catches the light as takes my hand and turns to lead me towards the bar.
I fear my hands feel clammy in his. The scent of his leather jacket, mixed with his clean cologne, floods my senses, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.
We reach the bar, where Fiero wastes no time ordering drinks for the both of us. "Two glasses of red wine, please," he says smoothly, offering the bartender a charming smile. I watch as the man nods and quickly pours the wine into two thin crystal glasses.
"Here you go," Fiero says, handing me one of the glasses. The cool stem presses against my warm skin as I take it from him, offering him a small smile of gratitude. He leans back against the polished counter, one arm casually draped around my shoulder, sipping his wine and observing the scene around us.
I try not to stare, but right now, I feel like I’m capturing a snapshot of a beautiful memory in the making. There’s something about the way he stands so close to me, the way he ignores the world that wants him, and the way he cares about nothing but this moment that makes me feel like the most precious woman in this room.
It’s a position I’m unfamiliar with, yet one I wish I could embrace joyfully instead of feeling burdened by guilt. I wish we’d met under different circumstances. I wish I didn’t have to steal from him to save my life.
Suppressing an anguished sigh, I let the wine coat my tongue, the warmth of it seeping into my bloodstream as I drink. I glance over at Fiero, who seems completely at ease amidst the bustling party. He looks so self-assured, so handsome, so like the boss that he is.
"Quite a night, isn't it?" he comments, his gaze drifting over to mine. I blush and look away, fearing he caught me staring.
"It is," I agree, unable to tear my eyes from him for too long, looking back at him as I reply. "I've never worked a party like this before. Usually, it’s bachelorettes, or kids’ birthday parties, some wedding entertainment and the sorts."
"Then I'm glad I could be your first," Fiero says, his eyes meeting mine with a bold undertone. My stomach flutters at the teasing in his voice, and for a moment, I forget why I'm really here.
The laughter and music around us fade into the background as we stand there, our eyes locked. A desire seeps through me, one in which all I want to do is get lost in Fiero's eyes and let the rest of the world fall away.
The warmth of Fiero's casually falling hand across my shoulder, down the curve of my neckline, sends a shiver up my spine, and I feel a thrill go down my legs.
The minute I feel pleasure, I slam into self-admonishment. Papà is gone. His indescribable suffering to save me could be in vain if I mess this up.
I shift under Fiero’s touch, and he gently pulls his arm back. Now, I feel worse for making him think that he made me uncomfortable. How could I explain a million things he makes me feel, uncomfortable being the very least?
I look around myself and, once again, notice the watchful eyes of the guests.
"Is everything all right?" Fiero asks, his voice low and concerned as he leans in closer.
"Everyone seems to be looking at us," I confess, my cheeks heating up with embarrassment. "I feel like I'm on display."
Fiero chuckles softly, his breath tickling my ear. " They're simply curious about the enchanting woman who has captured my attention, that’s all."
His words cause my heart to race. How can one man be so damn perfect? I try to shake off the feeling, reminding myself that I have a job to do. But despite my best efforts, I can't deny the growing attraction between us.
As we stand at the bar, a voluptuous blonde saunters towards us, her eyes locked on Fiero. She's breathtakingly beautiful—full, sparkly lips, wide-set brown eyes and the perfect straight nose.
"Buona sera, Fiero," she purrs, her voice dripping with seduction as she steps up to him, ignoring me. "It's been too long since we've seen each other."
"Ginevra, how are you?" Fiero greets her, his tone is polite but detached. He makes a move to pull away from her advances, and I can tell he's uncomfortable, his jaw clenched with tension.
"Who is your lovely companion?" Ginevra asks, her gaze flicking over to me with a hint of disdain, no doubt holding me responsible for Fiero’s coldness.
"Romola Toscani," I respond with a tight smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
She doesn’t respond but simply rolls her eyes at me ever-so-slightly and reaches out to touch Fiero’s arm, her fingers trailing along the fabric of his jacket.
