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“No. You stay away.” She put out her hand, while she used the other to steady herself. “You should’ve left me at the restaurant. Enzo would’ve come for me.”
“Enzo? Is that who you want here?” I pursed my lips. “He took off.”
“Yes. He’s my friend.” She winced and covered her mouth.
“Some friend he is.”
She pointed a finger at me as if she had more to say. A beat later, she bolted up the stairs. Great. Now what? I stood in the middle of the foyer, trying to figure out what to do. Donata was fine. She was back in her spoiled-brat mode. I should let her be. She was home. She didn’t need me.
“Fuck me.” I ran a hand through my hair. I didn’t sign up to babysit the Queen Bee. In truth, I didn’t sign up for anything. This fiasco was all my uncle’s idea. More than an idea, it was an order.
‘She’s already in love with you,’Uncle Jimmy had said. ‘It should be easy as pie to marry the sweet princess.’
What the hell was I doing? I couldn’t get involved with her. I couldn’t even let myself like her a little bit. She was the mark. Don Jimmy Gallo had made me the predator, and Donata was the prey. That didn’t mean I had to watch over her. She wasn’t mine. She was business, nothing more. I took several steps toward the elevator door. Every single one of them felt like I was going in the wrong direction.
“You win, princess.” I removed my suit jacket and draped it over the banister.
While Donata was upstairs possibly throwing up, I rolled up my sleeves and went into the kitchen to get her some water and ibuprofen. I’d never had to deal with a drunk girl before, though liquids and meds sounded like a good idea.
Marry the sweet princess.Uncle Jimmy’s words echoed in my head. Right.
What could possibly go wrong?
CHAPTER6
Don't Play the Game
Luca
Whoever said revenge was a dish best served cold never met a woman like Donata. I climbed the stairs, balancing a tray filled with coffee, water, crackers, and ibuprofen. This whole plan had been meant to make Donata pay for what she did to me. Instead, I was now playing nurse to her.
When I reached the landing, I tried the first door on the right. I peeked inside. The room was too clean and too boring to belong to Donata, so I went on to the next one and then the next, until I found a suite that was more Donata’s style. Her bed was covered in pillows in various shades of pink, along with five different cocktail dresses that I could only guess were the ones that didn’t make the cut tonight.
I set the tray on the coffee table near the window. The small seating area looked cozy and inviting. I could almost picture her sitting there reading a book—or texting me hateful messages. A smile pulled on my lips as I picked another hot number off the chair and tossed it with the other dresses. I had arranged them all in one pile when I heard Donata crying in the shower. She was so quiet; I had no idea how I had managed to tune into it.
“Donata.” I rapped on the bathroom door. “Are you decent? I’m coming in.”
“No, don’t come in.” Her tone of voice lacked conviction.
“It’s too late at night to play this game. Three, two, one.” I pushed the door open.
As soon as I set foot inside, I realized she had all the faucets going and enough water had already splattered onto the tile, making the floor sopping wet. I backtracked to her suite and removed my shoes and socks before going back in. After I turned off the water in the shower and sink, I went straight to the armoire in the corner and grabbed all the towels I could find and tossed them on the floor. I used my feet to wipe down the floor before I turned my attention to Donata.
“What in the world are you doing?” I asked her. “Are you trying to flood the place?”
She was sprawled in the bear-claw bathtub with the handheld showerhead hugged to her chest. I loomed over her with my hands braced on my hips. My gaze swept over her long legs and the dress that barely covered her body, now that it was soaked through. “You’re the worst drunk I’ve ever met.”
“I wanted to wash my face.” She rested her cheek on the lip of the tub. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“Too late.” I took the showerhead from her and adjusted the temperature of the water. “This is scolding hot. How is it not burning you?”
“I like it hot.”
“You shouldn’t drink like this.” I sprayed her face as I gently wiped the running mascara off one cheek and then the other. Her skin was so soft and alluring. “I was hoping you’d look like the Wicked Witch of the East without makeup.”
“Wait?” She laughed softly. “Are you trying to be funny? I didn’t know you could do that.”
It was the truth. No matter what Donata wore or how much makeup she had on, drunk or sober, she was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. I pushed strands of wet hair away from her face. I kept the spray on her to keep her warm, as I ran my fingers over her soft skin. She was already clean, but I couldn’t stop soothing her.
