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We hold each other’s gazes. She knows what I’m asking, and I get the feeling I won’t like her answer.
“Mr. Moretti was firm. You are to stay in his room.Yourroom.”
“But he’s not even here.”
“That may be true, but he’ll know.”
How would he know unless… My gaze darts around the room until I spot a camera in the corner near the ceiling. The flashing red light lets me know the camera is recording.
“I’d really feel more comfortable in the guest room.”
“The primary suite is the only bedroom that’s made up.”
My eyebrow lifts. “I don’t need much. Just a blanket.”
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Moretti. Mr. Moretti was firm. You can discuss the issue when he returns.”
“In a few days.”
“Yes, ma’am. Now, shall I show you to your room?”
“No, it’s okay. I can find it.”
Because that was never the issue.
Biting back a sigh, I stand. I really am tired. All I want to do is shower and then go to bed. If that means sleeping in his room, then so be it.
I enter the primary suite, closing the door behind me. A quick glance confirms there’s no camera, at least not one that I can see.
Alessandro’s room looks like him, or what I know of him. Dark furniture. Dark walls. Minimal personal effects, which makes me think the items that are out must mean a lot to him. There’s a framed photo on his dresser of a woman posing in a garden that’s faded over time. She looks like him. Is she a family member? His mother? Grandmother?
My bag sits at the foot of the bed, reminding me of the jet and everything that happened there.
“Ugh.”
Unzipping the bag, I pull out the oversized t-shirt that I sleep in and a pair of clean underwear. I also grab my travel sized toiletries.
The bathroom is huge and a stark contrast to the bedroom. White marble floors with matching counters. Double vanity with his and her sinks with mirrors over each side. Golden accessories. There’s a large walk-in shower that’s calling my name. I let the water warm while I undress. My gaze lands on my body and I freeze. My knees look terrible from where I fell, but that’s not what gets my attention. No, it’s my hips that are covered in light bruises from where Alessandro held onto me while we had sex.
Heat licks my skin as I run my finger over my hip. Even though my first time didn’t go as I dreamt it would, it still wasn’t all bad. Alessandro wanted me.Me. So much so that neither of us undressed all the way. So much so that his fingers left bruises behind. Now, I’ve never been one of those girls who thinks that hot guys don’t go for curvy girls. But sometimes it’s hard not to have that mindset. I mean, I was a twenty-eight-year-old virgin, for crying out loud. At some point, it was hard not to think that my weight had something to do with it. That didn’t matter today. No, Alessandro wanted me and took me. There was no revulsion in his eyes as he thrust into me. Only heat. So much heat.
My exhale is shaky. I just wish he was here so we could talk things through. Instead, I’m left to my own thoughts and fears.
Well, I’m not going to get any answers tonight, so I step into the shower, letting the hot water run over my body. My thoughts dance around. What is my life going to look like now? I worked while living at my father’s house, even though he and Giosuè didn’t want me to. In fact, Giosuè was insistent that I quit when we married so we could focus on starting a family. Will Alessandro have similar requests?
I didn’t want to have children with Giosuè, but thinking of Alessandro holding our baby does something to my chest. God. What am I thinking? We don’t know each other. I shouldn’t be thinking about having kids with the man, for crying out loud!
I finish showering and dry my hair. In the bedroom, I slip on my pink nightshirt and panties. Hands on my hips, I look at the enormous bed, not knowing which side Alessandro sleeps on. I usually sleep on the right side of my bed, so that’s the side I climb in on. The mattress is so freaking comfortable, and my eyes are closing before I can stop. Maybe things won’t be as bad as I think. Maybe, just maybe, this might work out.
11
Alessandro
I stare out the window, my leg bouncing. Fuck. How long does it take to taxi? We’re at a private airfield, for Christ’s sake.
Hector is smirking at me when I glance his way.
“What?”
