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“Fine,” he said, straightened, and kissed my forehead. “I’ll wait outside and arrange to get your door fixed. Make it quick, though. We’re already late.”
With one long last look, he turned and went outside, closing the door behind him as best as he could.
And despite his easygoing façade, I knew he was only half-joking when he offered to join me in the bathroom—preferably in the shower. And despite my rebellious streak, I feared I’d have let him had he pushed just a little bit more.
Oh, scratch that.
I would’ve probably liked showering with him. Maybe I could use Alex to get over my trauma. Maybe fake-dating and real-fucking him would actually help me overcome and leave it all behind.
Because as much as he was a dangerous bad boy, I now knew his other side?—
the kindness he was capable of.
And that man—I would actually want him to hold me and touch me—and so help me, it scared me more than any nightmare ever could.
Because Alessandro Falcone would swallow me whole—if I let him.
And I would fall for him head over heels—if I let myself.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“If you’re trying to impress me with your toys, I have to burst your bubble,” I said while staring at Alex, who was holding open the door to a fire-engine-red Ferrari for me. “I’m not that easily impressed.”
Despite the door between us, he leaned forward and down until his nose almost touched mine. Which caused annoying flutters to erupt in my belly.
“Don’t worry, princess.” His low, growly voice matched the fire burning in his eyes, and my throat tightened.
I rolled my eyes.
I needed to re-establish some boundaries between us. It was safe to say my image of tough, no-nonsense princess went down the toilet along with my dignity—after breaking down in his arms, not once but twice, and with him holding my hair back while puking my guts out.
And that was leaving aside my out-of-control bodily reactions to him which were definitely not appropriate for a “fake” relationship.
Not that I had agreed to that nonsense anyway.
“If I wanted to impress you…these”—he pointed at the car, his voice gravely low—“are not the kind of toys I would show you.” He waggled his brows.
Holy cannoli. I snapped my mouth shut.
He chuckled.
I glared.
How was it possible, that whenever I tried to regain my footing, he could render me speechless with one leisurely growled sexual innuendo?
Well, at least we were back to indecent proposals after my moment of weakness. Moments of weakness.
I looked up when a motorcycle roared along the dimly lit driveway and stopped right next to the car. The driver opened the face shield—Matt—and grinned at me. “Ready, princess?”
Great, now I had two tall, dark, and too-handsome men calling me princess.
“Get in the car,” Alex said.
I looked back at Alex and narrowed my eyes. He was back to bossing me around. Was he? Or maybe not. “You know what? I think I’d rather ride with Matteo.”
I could judge by the deep line that appeared between Alex’s brows how much he did not like being defied.
But I needed to get back my balance. And riding with Alex in the tight space of the Ferrari would not help with that.
