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With a muted groan, he closed the gap, sealing them in a hot cocoon of fevered need so intense it stopped her breath.
The cocoon held them intimately all the way through their torrid lovemaking in Marco’s bed and in the shower afterwards, where he explored every inch of her body as if seeing it for the first time.
His phone rang as they dressed for dinner. At first she thought it was a business call. Then she noticed his ashen pallor.
Their cocoon had been shattered.
‘Who was that?’ she asked, even though part of her knew the answer.
‘It was the hospital. Rafael’s suffered another bleed.’
‘What the hell are you doing under there
? Freebasing engine oil?’
Sasha froze at the voice she hadn’t heard in six long sleepless nights and forced herself to breathe. ‘Hand me the wrench.’
‘Didn’t the staff tell you no one’s allowed in here?’ The harsh censure in his voice grated on her already severely frayed nerves.
‘They probably tried.’
‘You didn’t listen, of course?’
‘I don’t speak Spanish, remember? Are you going to hand me the wrench or not?’
His designer-shod feet moved, then a wrench appeared underneath the body of the 1954 Fiat 8V Berlinetta.
‘Not that one. The retractable.’
The right wrench reappeared. ‘Thanks.’
She hooked the wrench on to the bolt and pulled. Nothing happened.
‘Come out from under there.’
‘No.’
‘Sasha …’ His voice held more than a hint of warning.
Her mouth compressed. She didn’t want to see his face, didn’t want to breathe his scent. In fact she wanted to deny herself everything to do with Marco. To deny that every single atom of her being yearned to wheel herself from under the car and throw herself into his arms.
She gripped the wrench and yanked harder, reminding herself of how almost a week ago he’d ordered Romano to bring her to Casa de Leon and walked away.
As if Seoul had never happened.
‘We need to talk.’
Her heart clenched. ‘So talk.’
An expensively cut suit jacket landed a few feet from her head, followed a millisecond later by Marco’s large, tightly packed frame.
‘What are you doing?’ she squeaked, holding herself rigid as his shoulder brushed hers.
He ignored her, taking his time to study the axle she’d been working on. ‘Hand me the wrench and move over.’
‘Why? Because you think you’re bigger and stronger than me?’
‘I am bigger and stronger than you.’
