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And so he’d backed off. Completely. There hadn’t been any texts from him in the morning and she hadn’t seen him at all. Not even from the window. And Morana didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused by the stunning turn of events.
She understood needing space and everything because he did have a lot to process and from what she had seen of him, emotional processing wasn’t his forte. He reacted more than thought and felt. Or at least he tried to. And it was a good sign that he was so off-kilter with her because he was feeling. So, she was trying to be understanding about it and not pester him like she wanted to. But he needed to get it sorted soon or she was banging down his door.
The noise of a large vehicle pulling up outside the gates broke her out of her thoughts. Morana watched as the gates opened and a white delivery van came down the driveway. Letting out a breath, one of her issues sorted, Morana headed towards the end of the driveway in front of the mansion to greet the guy and sign off on the delivery. She just got there when she noticed the men patrolling the property had stopped. They were looking at her and the van, mostly curiously but all alert. Morana raised her eyebrows. What, didn’t anyone shop online around here?
The sound of the vehicle door opening jarred her perusal. She turned to greet the two uniformed delivery men who looked around the property rather nervously.
“Delivery for Morana Vitalio,” the older of the two said to her.
Morana nodded, signing off on the device he extended to her. That done, she got to choreographing the two guys into putting all the boxes on the steps of the entrance, watching them get antsier and antsier to get out. She couldn’t entirely blame them, not with the way the guards were watching them.
At least thirty boxes later, the men inclined their heads at her and hurriedly got into their van. Hastily, they reversed out the drive and went off at record speed. Morana sighed, realizing yet again that the world so normal to her was, in fact, not normal. Outsiders were absolutely terrified of it unless it was romanticized in stories.
Shaking her head, she looked at the boxes and sighed again.
“I see you’re already spending Tristan’s money,” Chiara spoke from the doorway, eyeing the packages.
Morana rolled her eyes, all pretense of civility gone between the two women. “Green is not your color, Chiara.”
Chiara actually looked down at her blue dress before grasping her meaning. She scoffed. “Oh, please. I could have men lining to buy me anything I want. I can do
anything I want.”
Morana nodded seriously. “Yeah, except leave me alone apparently.”
The other woman grit her teeth. “Tristan won’t protect you forever, you little slut.”
Morana deliberately picked up a package, perusing it, not giving the woman attention. “I don’t need his protection, Chiara. That’s for women like you. Now shoo. Go lurk like a lizard somewhere else. I have work to do.”
She could feel the other woman bristling at her dismissal. She didn’t give a rat’s ass. Like seriously, how Tristan could ever sleep with that and not have his rather good male equipment shrivel up was beyond her. Chiara slithered away and Morana shuddered. Then she turned her focus on deciding what to do with her deliveries. She could ask some of the staff to help her take them up to her room.
But the few people in sight were already busy with chores, making arrangements for the party, and she didn’t want to leave the packages just lying there unattended, not after the money she’d spent on them from her own pockets.
Floundering at what to do, she felt someone come behind her. Whirling around, her package held up like a weapon, Morana narrowed her eyes at the three guys she’d seen near the perimeter, their tall rifles strapped to their backs. They were all taller than her (which wasn’t a benchmark because her height was nothing to boast about) but two of them were kinda short and the third, for some insane reason, reminded her of Chris Pine. Shorty, Stocky and Pine were looking at her quietly.
“Um,” Morana shook her head at the weirdness of the situation. “Can I help you?” What else did you ask fierce looking guys who patrolled the enemy grounds with guns?
Shorty grunted. “You Caine’s girl?”
Morana felt her lips twitch even as she forced herself to keep them straight. “Yes.”
Shorty and Stocky nodded in sync and moved to the packages, picking up a bunch of them together. Without another word, they moved into the house. Morana watched them go, baffled, before turning to look at Pine, who simply stood there, guarding her deliveries.
Had she somehow stepped into another dimension? What the hell was going on?
Shorty and Stocky returned, their arms empty, and picked up more of the boxes and went in again. Morana shook her head.
“Not that I mind this, but shouldn’t you guys be patrolling?” she asked, completely confused. "Why are you helping me?"
Pine grunted, just like Shorty had, but didn’t reply. Okay.
After two more trips, when all her packages were upstairs, Morana looked at the three men. “Thanks.”
Grunts.
Men.
They walked away just as quietly as they had come. Morana watched them go, puzzled, making a mental note to ask Dante about the entire episode. There had to be a reason they had suddenly decided to help her out because nobody helped anybody out of the goodness of their hearts. Especially not three men who just grunted.
