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When they’re done, he slides his chair closer to the table. “Eat.”
“Food.” I give a nervous giggle. “The ultimate comfort.”
There’s awkward silence between us, the only sounds our silver utensils quietly moving against the plates as we eat our salads. It’s all so strange. Being here. Indulging. Enjoying the beauty of the place, yet knowing I’m not meant to be here.
Knowing I’m in danger, yet… strangely drawn to the man who sits across from me.
Ignoring my feelings, I indulge in the rich meal. Dip the prongs of my fork into the cheesy tomato sauce, nabbing a thick rotini noodle. I pop it into my mouth and close my eyes, a low moan coming from deep within me as I taste the delicious dish. “My God.”
When I come to, I feel my face instantly warm with embarrassment. He’s staring right at me. There’s a look of amusement on his handsome face.
“That good?” he says.
I put my fork down. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I just… I’ve never tasted anything like this.”
“The tomatoes were plucked from the vine just minutes before they were added to the dish,” he says.
“I can taste the Greek sunshine in them.” Feeling silly, I lift my napkin from my lap, dabbing at my lips again.
One dark brow rises high. “You can taste—the sunshine?”
Now I’m feeling like a real idiot.
“This was a mistake.” I put my napkin on the table. “I’m so sorry. I’m going—”
Where am I going?
I’m here against my will—yet feeling and acting like some kind of guest. I should be trying to escape, looking for help, asking Apollo to call the police. A glam team, a tour of his vineyards, and a plate of pasta are all it took to have me happy to sit here like a kept pet.
What is wrong with me?
“Thank you for dinner, but I’ll have to excuse myself.” Rising from my seat, I stand for a moment, looking around the room. I move around the chair, ready to bolt for the doorway. “I’m going to my room. And I’m going to stay there until it’s time to go back to New York, or you decide to toss me out there into the Adriatic or whatever.”
He rises from his, closing the space between us with one step.
He runs a hand down my arm, gripping my elbow. Tiny electrical pulses dance up and down my skin at his touch. His lips come closer, a whisper away from my ear. His breath is hot against my flesh, his hold on my arm tightening.
“Is that what you think I’m going to do?” His voice drops. “Kill you?”
I shake my head, my tongue growing thicker in my mouth by the moment. I have no idea what to say.
If I could even speak.
He pulls away from me only long enough to dismiss the staff. “Leave us. And close the doors.”
Any hope I have of help scatters. The heavy oak doors close with a thud. We’re very much alone.
The room is silent. The only sound is my breath, coming faster.
His voice is low. Deadly. “Is that what you think I am? A killer?”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head again. “You’ve already proven you have a temper. And yesterday… we know you’ve no issue putting your hands on a woman.”
He circles behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, the warmth of his firm chest pressing into my back, enveloping me in a cocoon of his strong, massive body. His breath is hot against my ear. His teeth nip at the delicate skin of my earlobe. Licks of fire dance across the back of my neck. His cheek rests against mine, his lips so close as he whispers to me.
“Do you want my hands on you?” he asks.
His offer clings to the air between us.
