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I glance up at the castle, its stone walls now a silent challenge. Dante’s inside, and so is the Don, I can feel it.
Time is slipping away, each second a precious commodity that I can’t afford to waste. I need to get inside, find Dante, and confront the Don. Everything else is just noise, a background static that I push from my mind.
32
ISLA
Not even able to process what the fuck just happened, I stand in the middle of the kitchen, fuming, one hand on my hip and the other resting on my forehead.
“What the fuck is this? Gunshots, a massive brawl and then mates. These rich people are fucking nuts. They need some hobbies or something.”
Nodding as I agree with my own statement, I turn to the fridge and open it, looking for the least appetising thing in there to feed Gideon and possibly his devious friend, as well.
Unfortunately, I don’t see anything that isn’t gloriously sumptuous and mouth-watering.
“I wonder if he will feel hard done by if I just give him soup. With no bread and maybe too cool. Yes, serve you right for being a complete nutjob.”
Liking my plan and smiling as I know he knows what I’m planning but not what to expect, it gives me pause.
He knows me.
Somehow, after only a few days, he knows my thoughts, knows the exact right things to say and do to get me to respond to him.
I don’t like it at the same time that I do. It’s been so long since anyonegotme. It’s been way too long since someone held me the way he did and kissed the top of my head like I’m a delicate flower. Iknowhe sniffed my hair, the fucking creep, and his threat to Dante about hurting me was chivalrous and a lot hot. That brings me back to the kiss we almost shared before all this shit went down. We both wanted it. The moment was perfect, the timing was epic, and I want to weep when I think about how amazing his lips would feel on mine, but it wasn’t meant to be.
In the cold light of day, or the gloomy late afternoon as the sun is on the verge of setting in mid-winter, it can never happen. As much as my body wants it, my head knows it’s wrong. I work for him. He is my boss. It’s all very well Sophia claiming that honour, but I haven’t heard a peep from her yet. I’m here dealing with Gideon, so that makes him in charge of me.
I just wish he wasn’t in charge of my heart because it is beating erratically as the adrenaline of the last few minutes wears off completely. Holding a gun, threatening someone with violence is not my forte. I help people, not hurt them, but I was willing to shoot Dante in his far too good-looking, smug face if he’d hurt Gideon.
And the depth of that scares the shit out of me.
Sighing, I close the fridge, forgetting I was staring into it and shivering as the chill gives me goosebumps. Leaning against it, I cross my arms and purse my lips.
“This is not worth a million pounds,” I murmur. I should’ve held out for more. Hazard pay, or whatever they call it. Maybe I’ll mention it when Sophia finally gets in touch.
Flicking on the light, the kitchen is illuminated with the bright glow from the many spotlights in the ceiling. Searching through some cupboards, I find some tinned soup which was a gamble.
A giggle erupts when I turn my nose up at the pea and ham soup in my hand. This will definitely not be nice cold and on its own. “Serves you right for being an arsehole.”
Turning to the drawer to get the tin opener, I freeze as a face peers in at the window, hands cupped to get a good look.
My mouth goes dry as whoever it is knocks and gestures to the window opener.
Glancing over my shoulder, I wonder what to do. Who is this? Why didn’t the guards announce him? And what is he doing up here anyway? For someone who is supposedly a big fat recluse, Gideon sure has a lot of visitors dropping by today.
Licking my lips as I dither, I eventually conclude this is not good and edge away to the kitchen door. The man suddenly disappears, and I freeze, not even breathing as I wait for… something.
Moments pass. Who knows how long?
I have to decide to move at some point, but I don’t expect the kitchen door to be pushed open, making me jump out of my skin and for the tin of soup to fly through the air as I let out a loud screech.
The man who snuck up on me catches the can with a wicked smile that does things to me and holds it out. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. The front doors were open.”
“Were they?” I mutter.
He nods.
“Who are you?” I ask, getting my wits about me. I know that this guy shouldn’t be on the castle grounds and less so in the actual castle.
