She takes a step backward, and as her hands fall to mine, she squeezes them.
“Shall we,sis?” Luciano asks, moving from the shadows with his arm bent for me to take. “It’s late, and I don’t know about you, but the jet lag is getting to me.”
“Yes.” I nod my head. “Let’s go back. Thank you all so much again. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
The Moreno family say their goodbyes, and I can’t help but feel a rush of relief as Luciano pulls me over to the Aston Martin, where it idles by the curb. As he reaches down to open the door for me, I hear, “Wait!”, and the sound of rushed footsteps drawing near. The moment I turn, Javier takes my face betweenboth of his hands and tilts my head back to allow him access to my lips and kisses me. The urgency and passion catch me so off guard, my mouth opens slightly in a gasp, and he takes my vulnerability as an opportunity to deepen it.
From beside me, Luciano’s low growl rumbles through my entire body. “Hands. Off.”
Javier ignores him until Luciano takes half a step forward in warning.
“Buenas noches,” Javier murmurs against my lips, his smile apparent even through my closed eyes.
Then he lets me go.
A strangled “bye” is all I can manage before Luciano is tugging on my elbow and guiding me into the passenger seat of the car. The door slams once I’m tucked inside, rattling the rest of the vehicle as Luciano makes his way around to the driver’s side.
I say nothing during the short drive from the restaurant to the hotel, and the elevator ride to the suite is even more tense than the car.
Luciano’s hands are balled into fists as he stares straight ahead, refusing to look at me.
But I’m looking at him.
I’m looking at the way the veins of his forearms strain under the tight grip of his hands, on full display thanks to the sleeves of his white shirt being rolled up. The way his dark hair is slightly disheveled from the seventeen times he ran his hand through it while driving. I’m looking at how his jaw is flexing under the slight stubble that’s started to grow back since he shaved yesterday, and how the circles under his eyes have deepened a shade darker since we started the evening—whether from lack of sleep or stress, I’m not sure.
All I can do is take in the man standing beside me and wonder how in the hell he went from avoiding me for years, towanting to help me in this insane mishap, then to radiating with anger because of a situationheput us in. I never asked him to pretend to be my fiancé. In fact, I distinctly remember insisting that I didn’t want his help.
This was all him.
Now he’s the one playing with my emotions.
Touching me when he swore he wouldn’t.
Getting angry when he has no right to.
Wrapping my arms around my chest, I look down at the ground. As much as I absolutely hate what I’m about to say aloud, I have to.
For both of our sanity.
My heart’s pounding in my chest. “You can’t touch me again, Luciano.”
“Trust me, I won’t make that mistake twice,” he spits, making me wince. Looking up, he watches as our floor draws closer with every ascending number, and the moment the elevator dings, he’s through the doors before they’re even fully open.
My movements aren’t as fast as I make my way off the elevator and into our suite with my tail between my legs and my heart in my stomach.
How the hell did things get so messy so fast?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
For the third time in five minutes, I shift uncomfortably on the couch that’s clearly more for aesthetics than comfort. A thin cotton blanket lies over the side of my body, barely covering my large frame, and my feet hang awkwardly over the arm of the sofa.
One fucking bed.
Should have requested two when we checked in. I roll my eyes in the dark, shifting again as I try to get comfortable on the glorified piece of cardboard.
Less than fifteen feet away is a perfectly plush king-sized bed.And a temptation I need to stay away from.
But at the cost of my sleep? Can’t we both suck it up for three nights?
