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Hell, who is this man? I’m not sure, but I have to say, I love this unusual playful side of him. Although I’m not about to tell him that.
“I do not snore,” I mumble, hiding a smile, the warm night air falling over me as I begin my descent down the metal staircase. Our luggage is delivered to us from the baggage compartment, and Roman picks up both suitcases. I packed pretty light, assuming I’d pick up a few local dresses and accessories. I want to fit into the community as much as I can.
He leads me inside the airport, which is much bigger than I envisioned but fairly quiet this time of night. We move through customs and less than an hour later, we’re standing on the sidewalk and I’m searching for our cab when a stretch limo pulls up in front of us.
Roman opens the back door as the driver greets us and sets our luggage in the trunk. “Nice car,” I say, as I slide in. “A taxi would have done just fine.”
He takes an exaggerated breath and lets it out slowly as he slides in beside me. “Elias is our driver for the next month,” he explains. “Anywhere you need to go, he’ll take you.”
I blink once, then twice, my sleeping brain taking a minute to understand. “I don’t need a driver, Roman,” I say, and take in his strong profile as he buckles himself into his seat. The driver, or rather, Elias catches my eye in the rearview mirror and gives me a smile before he pulls onto the road. I lean forward to give him the address to the small villa I rented. Roman touches my arm to stop me.
“What?” I ask.
“He knows where we’re going.”
“How could he? I never told him. I never even told you.”
“He knows where we’re going, Peyton.”
My gaze goes from Roman, to Elias, back to Roman. “Wait, what’s going on?”
He settles in his seat and stretches out his long legs. “I’ve made other arrangements for us.”
“You can’t do that.”
“It’s already done.”
I glare at him, but he turns and glances out the window.
“You’re a bully, Roman.”
“Call me whatever you want.” All business, like he’s sitting in a boardroom, assigning orders to his staff, he reaches for a water bottle, uncaps it and hands it to me. “Your brother asked me to look out for you, and that’s what I plan to do. He told me where you booked, and I didn’t like the area, so I found us something more suitable, and it’s closer to your work.”
I take a long pull from the bottle and hand it back. “I can take care of myself.” I lick a bead of water from my bottom lip. “I’m not a child.”
He inhales sharply and tears his gaze away from my mouth. “Oh, I know. Believe me, I know.” He tips the bottle to his lips and I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he finishes it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, Roman. You said it, so it’s something.”
“Can we just drive to the villa in peace, Peyton? I’m exhausted.”
“No, I want to know what you meant, and I don’t snore, I—”
“We’re on the same page here, Peyton. A team.” His gaze drops to mine, focuses on my mouth again, when he asks, “Do you have to question everything I do?”
“When it comes to you, I—”
Before I realize what’s happening, he cups my chin, drags me closer, and presses his lips to mine. Sweet baby Jesus. My protest dies a sudden death on my tongue, and as much as I hate this man, I sink into his kiss as it stirs a need inside me. His warm lips move over mine, commanding, possessive, unwavering and...antagonistic. Nevertheless, I moan into his mouth, my hand gripping the front of his dress shirt. He breaks the kiss and I just sit there, perfectly still, my mouth still poised open. He inches back and cold air moves in between us, snapping some sense back into me.
I swipe my mouth with the back of my hand, his alluring taste lingering as I glare at him. “Why did you do that?”
“Did you hate it?” My mind doesn’t seem to want to work as his deep voice trickles through me, caressing all the parts he stirred awake with that fierce kiss. “Well, did you?”
He can’t for one minute think I hated it. Not after the way I moaned. “Yes,” I state flatly, and lift my chin a notch.
