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I’m half terrified and half ringing with desire and absolutely soaking wet.
“Good work today,” he says and gently pats my ass. “Very good work.”
I move away from him quickly, cheeks bright red, and get to my feet. I don’t offer to help him as he climbs up, grinning at my obvious discomfort.
“We’re supposed to keep this professional,” I say, putting some distance between us, because I’m not sure I trust myself right now, not with the steady sex-filled ringing that’s buzzing between us. “And you are making it very, very difficult.”
“Oh, princess, you’re adorable when you pretend like you’re not enjoying it. But if you want, I can try to keep my hands to myself, though it’ll be hard to work together.”
“That’s not— I mean, I’m not saying—” I’m stammering now, afraid and frustrated as he leans against his wicked black cane.
“I know what you’re saying, and don’t worry, princess.” His face straightens and gets more serious. “You’re only a distraction. A tempting little distraction, but nothing else. I don’t need to spank you if only you obey. We’ll keep it professional.”
Rage fills my stomach. A distraction? He thinks I’m trying to distract him? When I’ve done nothing but give in to his demands and try to help him? God, I’m so angry I could scream, but he shuffles past and leaves the gym before I can lay into him.
The asshole, the arrogant, selfish asshole. He has no clue what he’s doing to me and I want to tear him to pieces. All at once I remember why I hated him from the start, and I hold onto that hate like a candle in a hurricane. I won’t get sucked into his charm. I won’t let this attraction fool me.
Whatever this is, it’s only physical. Everything else is a job.
He’s a patient. A difficult, controlling, dominant patient. But still a patient. And I’ll do my best to help him heal, even if it kills me.
Which it might.
I head back to my room and change into fresh clothes. I need to do something to work out all this stress, so I grab my laptop and head outside, thinking I might find some privacy.
The back yard of Villa Bruno is a wonderland.
There’s a large back patio, half of which is in shade. Down a short path is a beautiful pool complete with a rock formation and waterfall. Umbrellas and deck chairs line the outside. It’s currently empty, with only an inflatable donut drifting in the deep end.
It’s ten in the morning, a couple hours after my session with Fynn, and I need a stress release.
I’m in a sports bra, a pair of yoga shorts, and I have my blue yoga mat rolled out. My headphones are firmly in my ears and I’m listening to classical music as I follow a yoga routine on my laptop. Yoga is one of the few things that truly relaxes me, aside from a couple glasses of red wine and a Sex and the City marathon on TV, but unfortunately, I can’t drink and veg out at the moment since I have to deal with Fynn and his spanking hands again later. I’m stuck with yoga.
I have a good sweat going. I’m halfway through my routine when I notice someone nearby, and have a sudden jolt of terror wondering if it’s Fynn watching my body lengthen and stretch. I’m not wearing much clothing, I feel so vulnerable it could kill me, and I’m afraid to turn around to look.
Chapter 5
Mirella
The thought of Fynn staring at my body as I do my poses in my small tights and sports bra barely covering my full figure makes me almost panic. He’ll come over here, grab my hips, palm my ass—
I look back, trembling, and instead of Fynn grinning at me, Olivia stands nearby in big black sunglasses and a gauzy white cover-up with a towel and a magazine under one arm. She waves at me, so I pop out my headphones and relief floods over my skin like cold water.
“Hey, sorry, I didn’t see you there,” I say, forcing myself to smile. It’s not Fynn, you’re safe, you’re okay, they won’t hurt you. I have to keep reminding myself, over and over. I just work here. I’ll be fine.
“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t trying to interrupt, just saying hello.” She grins at me and drops down her shades. “Yoga, huh? I haven’t done that in a while.”
“Want to join me?” I’m suddenly starved for companionship and Olivia’s one of the nicest people here so far.
“I’m not sure I should.” She puts a hand on her stomach. “I’m starting to show. Nobody wants to see a pregnant lady doing yoga.”
I laugh and shake my head. “We’ll go easy, I promise. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
She hesitates, but shrugs and puts her stuff down. She takes off her cover-up and she’s wearing a gorgeous white bikini that shows off her incredible figure. Even somewhat pregnant, her little bump barely showing, she looks absolutely gorgeous, and I totally understand why a mafia Don would want to marry her.
