MIA
When I cracked open my eyelids, the first thing that greeted me was smooth, tattooed skin. My cheek was pressed against Romolo’s chest, rising and falling in sync with his slow, steady breaths.
I blinked against the sunlight flooding the bedroom.
It was morning.
Crap.
It was morning. We were only supposed to take a nap.
It was over. Our one night was up. And what had it gotten us?
A pit yawned open in my stomach as I sat up and looked down at Romolo’s sleeping form. The hard edges of his face had softened, the usual tension smoothed out. His dark lashes fanned across his cheeks, and his brows were unknit for once. He looked younger. Softer. Almost…gentle.
The diamond necklace he’d given me rested on the bedside table. I slid my fingertips over the stones and exhaled.
There was no future here. None. The fact that I had to keep reminding myself of that was ridiculous. But my skin itched with the need to keep him for just a little longer.
I lay back down, tucking my body against his warmth, pressing my lips to the side of his throat, and pretended to sleep.
A few seconds ticked by. Then, he stirred. Yawned. Brushed his lips over my temple in a touch so tender it cracked something inside me.
Romolo was a contradiction—rough and ruthless one second, tender the next. And that mix? It threatened to undo me.
“Good morning.” His voice was thick with sleep, and the greeting was followed by his palm lazily cupping my ass.
“Shh.” I burrowed closer against him, inhaling his scent, fighting against the tightness inside my throat.
The thought of him getting dressed and walking out the door cleaved me in half. My emotions bubbled just below the surface, threatening to pour out.
It’s just sex. You’ve had casual sex before.
Yeah. Right.
The only problem was that nothing about this actually felt casual. Not when he said things like I was made for him.
I sat up, overwhelmed by the mess inside my head, and stared out the window.
His palm pressed against my bare back. “Mia—“
Click.
My spine straightened. That… That sounded like a door unlocking.
A sharp, cold pulse went through me.
I shot out of bed, snatched my robe from the chair, and yanked it on.
“Stay here,” I whispered.
Romolo swung his legs off the bed, already reaching for his boxer briefs. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know. I’m going to check.”
His frown deepened as he pulled them on. “I’ll go.”
“No.” I grabbed his wrist and squeezed. “Are you crazy? No one can see you.”
“If it’s an intruder—”
“I’ll scream, and you can come running, okay?”
His jaw tightened. He didn’t like it, but I pressed my index finger to my lips and slid out the door.
Jenny.
She stood by the kitchen island, a stack of folders in one hand, typing something on her phone with the other.
Shoot. I’d given her a key to my place for emergencies, but she’d never used it before. “Jenny? Can I help you?”
She jerked, seeming surprised to see me. “You’re awake.”
“What are you doing here?”
She gave me a strange look. “Dropping off the letters you need to sign for the animal rescue charity. You said you’d be sleeping in late after your party, and that I could just come right in. Is everything okay?”
God, she was right. The memories hit me all at once. How had I managed to forget she was supposed to stop by this morning? “I’m sorry,” I stammered. “It was a late night.”
Jenny cocked her hip and leaned against the counter, sliding her phone back inside her purse. “Have fun?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it was…” I scrambled for words. “Beautiful event. Everyone’s gowns were stunning. And the art… The art was amazing. Rembrandt, I think.”
Jenny smirked. “You look exhausted. Had a few drinks? Nothing I should know about, I hope?”
“No, no. Nothing at all.”
Her gaze swept over me, searching for clues of misbehavior. I kept my face neutral, refusing to give anything away, but a prickle of annoyance appeared in the back of my mind.
Jenny often treated me like I was a misbehaving teenager, even though nothing was further from the truth.
Until last night.
A beat passed before she seemed satisfied. She turned toward the door. “Great. I should get ba—” Her body froze mid-step.
I followed her gaze, and my stomach dropped.
Hanging on one of the hallway hooks was Romolo’s coat, just where I put it when we stumbled in yesterday.
Jenny glanced over her shoulder, one brow raised. “Is someone else here?”
Panic wrapped around my lungs and squeezed.
Stay cool.
A slew of excuses threatened to spill past my tongue, but I managed to keep my mouth shut long enough to decide I didn’t owe Jenny an explanation. “Don’t worry about it.”
A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. “What’s his name?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m allowed to have a private life, aren’t I?”
She narrowed her eyes at my attempt at setting a boundary, like I was the one out of line. “Could’ve texted me, you know. I would’ve left the letters with the doorman.”
Thank God Romolo had worn his mask last night. Even if she asked the doorman about my guest, he wouldn’t be able to tell her anything identifying.
“I honestly forgot you were coming by, but thanks for dropping everything off. I’ll make sure to get it done today.”
Jenny’s eyes flicked to my neck.
Shit.
“Maybe cover up that hickey for the event tonight,” she added, a cool note slipping into her tone.
My hand flew to my throat, and heat rushed up my face. “I will.”
Jenny smirked. “I’ll let you get back to it then.” A wink. “Have fun.”
I forced a shaky smile. “Bye.”
The moment she left, I locked the deadbolt and slid the chain across. Why hadn’t I done that last night? My back connected with the door, and my heart pounded against my ribcage. That was way too close.
Romolo appeared on the threshold of my bedroom. He was mostly dressed, his long fingers working a cufflink through a buttonhole. “One of your father’s assistants?”
“Yeah. I completely forgot she was stopping by.” It was easy to forget all kinds of things when I was all wrapped up in him.
Like the fact that actions had consequences.
Unease clogged my lungs and bled into the air with my next exhale. I wanted to crack a window open, but more than that, I wanted to kiss him one more time.
I couldn’t.
One cufflink done, he moved on to the next. His gaze skimmed over me but didn’t linger, like there was nothing left for him to see.
Swallowing past the ball in my throat, I brushed my palm over the kitchen island. “I guess this is goodbye, then.”
He tugged on his sleeve, his movements as slow and deliberate as the next words that came out of his mouth.
“I’m not done with you yet, Berry.”
