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MIA
Iopen the door to my old room, expecting to see stacks of boxes, but it’s just as I left it four months earlier—full of tasteful furniture but none of my things are in here. Frowning, I wander over to the closet. Perhaps someone put everything away? No, it’s empty too, aside from a few blankets and spare pillows.
Where the hell is my stuff? I want to take a long hot soak, and I need my clean clothes and toiletries. Wandering back into the hallway, I look around for one of the housekeepers.
Hearing footsteps in the hallway below, I lean over the rail and recognize one of the men who arrived with Max earlier today.
“Hey?” I call, unaware of his name.
He looks up at me and smiles. “Yeah?”
“Do you know where my things are?”
“Sure. We put everything in the boss’s room.”
I frown. “Oh?” They must have misunderstood our relationship. “Do you know where he is?”
“He’s on a call with Dante. Not to be disturbed.”
“Oh. Okay. Um, thanks.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.”
What the hell should I do? I need my stuff, but I don’t want to interrupt his call. Maybe I can sneak into his room and quickly grab what I need. Then I can tell him there’s been a mix-up and get everything put in the right place.
My heart beats fast as I push open the huge oak door that’s as imposing as he is. Stepping inside, I suck in a shaky breath. I’ve never set foot in here; it feels like a violation of his privacy.
The space is veryhim. Dark and masculine and fresh smelling. A four-poster super king-sized bed with navy bed linens dominates the room. The wooden floor is warm underfoot as I pad over to my boxes stacked in front of a large oak dresser.
I find the box labeledtoiletriesin thick black pen. Everything is packed neatly inside, and tears prick at my eyes. Lorenzo and Max and their men looked after me so well today. I move the make-up bag from the top of the pile, searching for my bubble bath.
“Where the fig are you?” I mutter as I dig deeper.
The door closes behind me and a shiver runs along my spine. Oh crap!
I spin around, heart beating wildly from being caught in Lorenzo’s private space. He stares at me, his hands stuffed in his pockets and stretching the material taut over his thick thighs.
Words get caught in my throat, and for an awful moment I wonder if I’ve lost my ability to speak. “I’m s-sorry.” I dart my tongue out, moistening my dry lips. “Your men put my things in here by mistake.”
He crosses the room in three giant strides. Wow, he smells so good. My body instinctively leans toward his, the memory of the comfort I found in his arms earlier dominating my thoughts. Being near him made everything better; he made me feel so safe and cared for.
“Not by mistake, Mia. I asked them to.”
My racing heart flutters like a butterfly trapped in a glass jar. “But why?” The words come out so quietly, I wonder if he heard them.
He brushes his fingertips over my bruised cheek. “Because I want you in here with me.”
My head spins. I’m still so confused. “For tonight?”
“For every night.” He cups my chin in his hand. “But I should have asked. You can have your own room if you’d prefer.”
Tears blur my vision. This can’t be happening. It’s exactly what I wanted, but something he could never give me. So, what’s changed? Because I don’t want his pity. I’d rather spend every night alone than have him feel sorry for me. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m okay,” I assure him.
“I will always worry about you, sunshine, but that’s not why I want you here in my room.” He edges closer so that our bodies are pressed together. “In my bed,” he growls.
Warmth coils up my spine, his deep voice traveling into my core. “But why do you want me in here now when you didn’t before?”
He slides his hand to the back of my neck, palming it possessively. “Because I was a fucking fool, and I had no idea how much I needed you until you weren’t here anymore. And now that you’re home, I don’t want to spend another night without you, Mia.”
