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Nicolo parks his car before meeting my eyes with a hint of concern. “I thought you might like to get cleaned up before you went back to your family,” he says, then hesitates. “And if I’m perfectly honest, the thought of letting you out of my sight tonight feels like more than I can bear.”
My heart quickens in my chest, thrumming an irregular pattern at the meaning behind his words. “Okay,” I murmur, unsure of what else to say. Then my mind shifts to Clara and my aunt. “I should let my family know then.”
Nicolo’s eyes soften. “Of course. Let’s get you upstairs, and you can call whoever you need.”
I nod gratefully as fresh tears sting the back of my eyes. He’s being so gentle, so kind, and I don’t know what to make of it. On top of everything else that’s happened tonight, it leaves me feeling like I must be in some kind of dream.
33
ANYA
“Would you like a drink?” Nicolo offers as we step into the open layout of his penthouse.
“Yes, please,” I say, my voice slowly coming back to me.
He leaves me in the living room to make my calls as he heads into the kitchen to fix a cocktail.
I don’t trust myself to keep from crying if I hear Aunt Patritsiya’s voice, so instead, I send her a text.Out for a drink with a friend. Might not make it home tonight, so don’t wait up. I’ll see you in the morning.I send the text with a heart emoji and glance up in time to watch Nicolo bring me a generous tumbler of amber liquid.
He presses the glass into my hand and clinks it with his own. I sniff the drink, unfamiliar with it, and wish I hadn’t, as the scent burns the inside of my nose.
Nicolo smiles. “It’s whiskey. It’ll burn on the way down, but it’ll warm you up. You haven’t stopped shivering.”
I look down at my hands and realize he’s right. “Thanks,” I say gratefully and watch him down the shot like a glass of water. I imitate him, taking the drink in one large gulp, and immediately regret it. Forcing the flaming liquid down my throat, I cough and sputter as my face contorts, holding the back of my hand over my lips to stop from spraying the whiskey all over Nicolo’s carpet.
Nicolo’s chuckle warms me as much as the drink does as it burns its way down to my belly. I’m surprised at how effectively it chases away the bone-chilling cold I’ve become numb to.
“Did you talk to whoever you needed to reach?” he asks.
I glance down at my phone and see my aunt’s reply.See you tomorrow. Be safe.The cautionary words bring tears to my eyes, and I sniff them back before I start crying.
“Yes. All set.” I tuck my phone back into my jacket pocket and look up to meet Nicolo’s hazel gaze. It’s so gentle my breath catches in my lungs, and I stand momentarily stunned.
“Let’s clean you up,” he offers, taking my glass from me and setting it aside before he gathers my cold fingers in his.
I follow him wordlessly as he leads me into the back of his condo, through the impressive master bedroom, and into the master bath that never fails to astound me. It’s spacious and decorated with the finest marble and stone. A clawfoot tub occupies one corner, and a glass shower with two showerheads protruding from the ceiling in another.
Nicolo leads me to the tub and turns on the water, testing its temperature before he turns his attention to me. Carefully, he eases my jacket over my shoulders and lets it drop to the floor, uncovering my beautiful silk dress for the first time this evening.
A flicker of desire fills Nicolo’s gaze as he admires the dress and how it hugs my body. Reaching around my neck, he takes the ends of the halter-top ties and pulls, releasing them. The top falls from my shoulders, revealing my bare breasts, as I can’t wear a bra with the low-cut back. Encouraging the soft fabric down over my hips, Nicolo lets it pool around my feet as he holds my hand to stabilize me so I can step out of it.
A shuddering breath escapes my lips as he kneels before me, but rather than removing my panties, he takes one high-heeled foot in hand and slides my shoe off, then the next. His touch is gentle, careful almost, and not meant to explore or arouse, though it sends tingles of pleasure racing across my flesh.
As he comes to a stand, he shrugs out of his dress coat and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. Then he checks the water once more. The tub has filled fast, and as a last step before guiding me into it, he slides my panties down around my ankles.
Then he’s holding my hand, supporting me as he leads me into the water. Goosebumps burst across my flesh as the deep cold of my shock meets the hot water. I shiver more violently as I slowly lower myself into the tub, and then I’m encompassed by warmth. My heart pounds more confidently in my chest as my blood slowly thaws, and for the first time in hours, I feel my muscles start to relax.
Nicolo busies himself in the cabinet, pulling out a washcloth and bath soap that smells like eucalyptus and lavender as soon as he opens the bottle. Methodically, tenderly, he starts to clean my body. Beginning with my face, he dips the rag into the hot water before brushing the washcloth over my forehead, nose, lips, and cheeks. I feel the tug of dried blood on my skin before he washes it away. Alexia’s blood, I realize for the first time.
He moves on to my neck and chest, gently washing away the events of the night, and his touch is so careful and patient. A flicker of fury turns his hazel eyes green when he reaches my wrists and sees the raw skin from where I struggled so hard against my bonds. He gently massages each angry-pink bracelet of flesh before setting them back into the water.
The soothing scent of the soap fills my nose, calming me with every breath, and as Nicolo moves on to wash my back, I pull my knees to my chest and rest my cheek on them. Suddenly, I’m bone tired. The whiskey, combined with the hot bath and the lavender soap as Nicolo sponges me clean, has me nodding off.
“Let’s get you to bed,” he murmurs, bringing me back to the present as he rises to bring me a towel.
I don’t ever want to get out of this tub, but I know I can’t sleep here. It’s so wonderfully deep and full that I could easily drown if I did. Rising, I step from the tub and into the waiting terry cloth as Nicolo towels me dry.
“You can borrow one of my shirts for the night,” he offers as he walks me into the bedroom and opens his dresser.
