I wasn’t as worried about Romero’s rejection as I used to be. I’d caught him watching me too often in the last few days when he thought nobody was paying attention. When the sun came up, the first hesitant rays brushing my face, I slipped out of bed and crept toward my window facing the beach. Like every other morning in the last few days, I spotted a lonely figure jogging along the beach in shorts and without a shirt. This was the highlight of my day. I wasn’t sure where Romero took the discipline to get up before sunrise every morning to work out, and I really hoped he wouldn’t show that much self-control when it came to me. I watched him jog uphill toward the mansion and pressed myself closer to the wall so he wouldn’t find me spying on him. After he’d disappeared from view, I waited another five minutes before I headed out of my room. It was deadly silent at this hour, barely six o’clock. My sisters were still asleep; they never got up this early, and Matteo and Luca had left for New York yesterday and wouldn’t be back until tonight, so the only person who could have crossed my path was the other guard Sandro. When I passed Sandro’s door I made sure to be extra quiet, but there was no sound coming from his room. I picked up my pace the closer I got to Romero’s room.
I knew it was wrong. If someone found out, if my Father found out, he’d never let me leave Chicago again. He wouldn’t even let me leave the house anymore. It was vastly inappropriate, and unladylike. People were still bad-mouthing Gianna after all that time. They’d jump at the chance to find a new victim, and what could be better than another Scuderi sister getting caught in the act and with a soldier no less?
And deep down I knew that I was exactly like Gianna when it came to resisting temptation. I simply couldn’t. Romero’s door wasn’t locked. I slipped into his bedroom on tiptoes, holding my breath. He wasn’t there but I could hear water running in the adjoining bathroom. I crept in that direction. The door was ajar. I peered through the gap.
In the last few days I’d learned that Romero was a creature of habit, so I found him under the shower as expected. But from my vantage point I couldn’t see much. I edged the door open and slipped in.
My breath caught at the sight of him. He had his back turned to me and it was a glorious view. The muscles in his shoulders and back flexed as he washed his brown hair. There was a cross wrapped in barb-wire inked into the skin over his spine. Naturally, my eyes dipped lower to his perfectly shaped backside. I’d never seen a man like this, but I couldn’t imagine that anyone could compare to Romero. Even the fantasy-Romero from my dreams couldn’t compare.
He began to turn. I should have left then. But I stared in wonder at his body. Was he aroused? He tensed when he spotted me. There was another tattoo over his heart, the motto of the Famiglia.
His eyes captured my gaze before they slid over my nightgown and naked legs. And then I found an answer to my question. He hadn’t really been aroused before. Oh hell.
My cheeks heated as I watched him grow harder. It was all I could do not to cross the distance between us and touch him. I’d never understood the concept of wanting something so badly, it hurt; I did now.
Romero slid the shower open with unhurried movements and wrapped a towel around his waist. Then he stepped out. The scent of his spicy shower gel wafted into my nose. Slowly he advanced on me. “You know,” he said in a strange voice. “If someone found us like this, they might get the wrong idea. An idea that could cost me my life, and you your reputation.”
I still couldn’t move. I was stone, but my insides seemed to burn, to liquefy into red-hot lava. I couldn’t look away. I’d spent hours going over the things I wanted to say once I had him cornered, but now I was speechless.
My eyes lingered on the edge of the towel, on the fine line of dark hairs disappearing beneath it, on the delicious V of his hips. Without my volition, my hand moved, reaching for Romero’s chest, needing to feel his skin beneath my fingertips. I had no impulse control when it came to him. Maybe it should have terrified me. Girls weren’t supposed to be like that.
Romero caught my wrist before I could touch him, his grip almost painful. My gaze shot up, half embarrassed and half surprised. What I saw on Romero’s face made me shiver.
He leaned forward, coming closer and closer. My eyes fluttered shut, but the kiss I wanted never came. Instead I heard the creak of the door. I peered up at Romero. He’d opened the bathroom door wide. That’s why he’d moved closer, not to kiss me. Embarrassment washed over me. How could I have thought he was interested in me?
“You need to leave,” he murmured as he straightened. His fingers were still curled around my wrist.
“Then let me go.”
He did instantly and took a step back. I stayed where I was. I wanted to touch him, wanted him to touch me in turn. He cursed and then he was upon me, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other on my hip. I could almost taste his lips they were so close. His touch made me feel more alive than anything ever had, and I wanted more of this feeling, wanted to drown in it.
“Leave,” he rasped. “Leave before I break my oath.” It was half plea, half order.
I wanted him to break his oath, wanted nothing more, but something in his gaze made me back away a few steps. I was brave but I wasn’t stupid. Letting my gaze travel the length of him one last time, I quickly rushed outside and crossed the bedroom, only stopping to check the corridor before I left. There was nobody around so I stepped out and hurried toward my room. I’d almost reached my door when Gianna showed up, still dressed in pajamas and cup of hot chocolate in her hands. She halted, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What are you doing sneaking around the corridor in your nightgown?”
Why did she have today to get up early?
“Nothing,” I said a bit too fast. I could feel heat creep up into my cheeks. When would my body ever stop betraying me in situations like this?
“Nothing,” Gianna repeated, crossing her arms in front of her chest and taking a casual sip from her cup. “Right. Isn’t Romero’s room in that direction?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. It’s not like he’s ever invited me over.”
“Doesn’t mean you haven’t been there.”
“Are you done with your interrogation? I don’t know why you suddenly try to sound like Father. It’s not like you’ve always been playing by the rules.”
“Easy, tiger. I was just curious. For all I care you can visit Romero and whoever else you want as often as you like, but you know how things are. If the servants catch you, rumors will spread like wildfire. You have to be clever about it and running around the house like a chicken without its head isn’t going to help. If Aria had caught you like this, you’d have a lot of explaining to do.”
“I did nothing wrong,” I said stubbornly.
Gianna smiled bitterly. “I know, but that doesn’t mean they won’t punish you for it. Just be careful.” She handed me her cup of hot chocolate. “I think you need it more than me.”
I’d thought I was being careful, but at least my sisters seemed to see right through me. I could only hope they would keep my secret from their husbands. Both Romero and I would get in huge trouble if people started to believe something was going on between us, even if there wasn’t. Nobody cared about the truth. I wished there was something to talk about, wished Romero had kissed me like I’d wanted him, wished he hadn’t stopped at kissing.