I’m not sure if I believe her. I want to. I feel like we’ve bonded.
But the truth is, I don’t know Luna or Isla well enough. I don’t know any of these people, and yet, I’m at their mercy. It’s just like the cabin, only I’m not handcuffed to a bed in the middle of nowhere. I still have to answer to Scorpion, but now I share his name.
“Let’s finish the movie,” Isla suggests.
I’m desperate for distraction, so I agree, trying to lose myself in the screen and shut out reality for a little bit longer. I don’t know if it’s the lemon drops or the bone-deep exhaustion from everything that’s happened over the last few days that hits me harder, but one minute I’m watching a dapper Regency gentleman bow at a ball, and the next my eyelids are too heavy to keep open.
I snuggle deeper into the movie theater seat and stop trying to fight it.
Chapter 17
KATYA
I stagger to the guest room, feeling like a zombie. Luna woke me gently, telling me the guys had returned but that it was late and everyone was staying at the main house rather than returning to the city or the guesthouse where Scorpion and I spent last night. Since I’m tired, tipsy, and not in the mood to stir the pot, I listened when she told me which room was mine for the night.
Upstairs, fourth door on the right.
Luna hasn’t come up yet. She’s chatting with Priest in the bar area over a drink. I waved to them as I passed, exhausted again after another long day.
In a way, this one was even stranger than the last. My mind is muddled. I don’t want to like these people, but I do. I don’t want to feel this strange, reckless sense of belonging, and yet how can I not? They’re so welcoming, and the love the brothers have for one another is undeniable.
I make it to the guest room and head inside. The light is already on as I close the door behind me, probably thanks to the efficient staff. The room is large and tastefully decorated, with sage walls and a built-in window seat that beckons on the opposite end. The wall is dotted with vintage botanical prints,and a big, brass, king-sized bed dominates one wall. It’s cozy and modern, yet stylish.
A night’s rest is what I need to recenter myself. Tomorrow, I’ll start the day the way I usually do, with yoga. I’ve been out of my routine for way too long. Even if I can’t train, having my morning practice is important. It keeps me flexible and strong and grounded, all of which I need more than ever.
I’m so caught up in my thoughts as I reach behind me to unzip my dress and shimmy out of it that I don’t realize I’m not alone until I’m standing in my thong and bra and Lorenzo saunters out of the en suite bathroom with a towel slung around his hips and nothing else.
I let out a mortifying squeak, my heart pounding, and dance behind a bureau, trying to use it as a shield. The tats on his hands go up his arms. All the way up. There’s ink over his beautifully carved chest. Hello, eight-pack. Also,holy shit.
And my God, I can’t seem to stop staring at him. His hair is wet and slicked back from his high forehead. He looks even better out of his suits than in them, and that’s saying something. I can’t stop the rush of instant awareness that hits me, my nipples going hard behind the lacy demi cups of my bra.
“What are you doing in here?” I demand.
He gives me a searing look. “This is our room, isn’t it?”
Ourroom? Wait a minute here. Luna didn’t say anything about putting me in a room with Lorenzo.
I shake my head. “No, it’smyroom.”
I’m so busy ogling him that it takes a second to realize there’s an alarming amount of red mingling with those elaborate tattoos on his left arm. And it’s not ink. It’s blood.
Lorenzo isbleeding.
I gasp, moving around the bureau and going toward him. “You’re injured.”
He glances at his shoulder. “I got nicked.”
“By what?”
“An ice cream cone,” he drawls, flicking his brilliant gaze back to me. “We all had a fight down at the Dairy Queen over who could eat the most soft serve.”
I reach for him but then stop myself, remembering I’m practically naked and he’s injured. “Very funny. Are you telling me you got shot tonight?”
“This is a fucking scratch. Sorry to disappoint you,cara, but I’m not easy to kill.”
A shiver goes through me, and I’m shocked to realize it’s because something could have happened to him. A few inches in the other direction, and tonight would be a different story. He wouldn’t be standing here in my room, dripping and half naked.
“Does this happen often?” I ask, trying to prepare myself.
