Page 25 of Cage of Thorns and Blood

“We all have parent issues, Matteo.” I poke his chest. “Even you. Now … why don’t you show me upstairs?”

The air between us once again stands heavy with a weight of expectation.

“I didn't ask you here for that, Renata.”

I quirk an eyebrow at him. “Presumptuous much? I only want to take a look at the decor.” A smile plays about my lips. “I have a thing about nice bathrooms. I’d like to see yours.”

“You just want to look at the bathroom?” His mouth twitches up into a smile, one-sided and sexy.

Oh, that smile is not fair. That smile is him bringing a gun to a knife fight. Damn the man.

“Yes, that’s all. Bathrooms are a big thing for me. If I go to a hotel, the first thing I do is check out the bathroom. In fact, and this is a bit of a weird thing, I often photograph it.”

He angles his head slightly to one side and regards me. “Seriously, you photograph hotel bathrooms?”

“Yep. I'm not ashamed of my strangeness. It's quite a big thing on Instagram, you know. Lots of people seem to be into hotel bathrooms. Not that I put mine on social media. I'm not allowed to post where I am and things like that; apparently, it isn’t safe.”

“Yet your family allow you to wander around without any security,” he says under his breath.

“My family are assholes, as you well know.” I sigh, wanting to lighten the mood and not think about my family as fuel my resentment and anger. “Are you going to show me upstairs or not?”

“Come on.” He slips his hand into mine, and the shock of the contact zips down my spine. His skin is warm, and his grip is firm but gentle. His hand is huge and covers most of mine, and I suddenly get a feeling I haven't had in the longest time. A sense of safety.

I remove my hand quickly and pretend that I'm brushing the hair from my eyes. Hot and heavy sex I can deal with, but this intimacy is something else entirely. I can't let myself begin to feel safe with this man, or cherished in anyway; that's not what I'm here for.

I'm here to get my revenge on him, and in doing so I’ll possibly get my revenge on my family too. How I'm going to do this, I have no clue. I've probably bitten off more than I can chew, but that's always been my way in life. I'll figure it out somehow. One day I'll get that nugget of information that allows me to bring Nico and my family to their knees, but also bring Matteo down a peg or two.

The problem is, when I'm with him, I forget exactly why I want to ruin his life. He might be the one weakness that I have.

We reach the top of the stairs, and he turns to the right and leads me to the end of the long corridor.

“This is the family bathroom,” he says with a small smile. “Seeing as you are so into bathrooms, I thought I'd show you this first.”

He opens the door, and I'm looking at a very nice, but very normal bathroom.

I have to admit I'm a little disappointed, because I thought it might be a bit swankier. “It's nice,” I say.

He laughs. “Ah, Renata, I know you well enough to understand that that's a very muted response. Come on let me show you mine.”

He turns and walks back the other way until we reach the end of the corridor and take a right down a smaller section of hallway. There’s a large door at the end, and I think this used to be his parents’ room. He opens the door and ushers me inside. The room is opulent and decorated in shades of gray. The back wall is panelled and painted a deep warm gray, and a large bed rests against it. To the side of the bed are tables with glass surfaces, and brass frames and legs. The brass looks good against the gray darkness of the room. The bedding is a mix of a slightly lighter gray than the walls and a rich bronzy colour. I would never put them together, but the colors complement each other nicely. There's a guitar in the corner of the room, and I walk over to it and gently touch the strings. I didn't know he played guitar, but there's a lot of things about Matteo I don't know anymore.

I remind myself that really these days he's a stranger to me. All along the wall to the right is a built-in wardrobe. There's a second door, which I presume leads to the bathroom. Snug in the corner of the room is a bookshelf. I walk over and take a quick look at the books. There's also one on the bedside table on the right-hand side of the bed and next to it a pair of glasses.

Matteo didn't wear glasses when we were dating, and I wouldn't imagine he's old enough to need reading glasses just yet. Maybe he does. Unless the glasses and the book belong to someone else. The thought has my stomach turning, and I feel queasy at the idea of some woman being so comfortable here she can leave her glasses and a book on the bedside table.

“This is the bathroom,” he says. He opens the door and clicks on a light to the side, and I walk in and gasp.

The gray theme continues into the vast space, but it’s much more opulent in here, almost decadent. Matte gray marble tiles cover the floor and walls, and there's a huge freestanding bath in one corner. A high shelf runs the length of the wall by the door, underneath which stand two sinks and vanities. Above the marble vanity, below the shelf is a long mirror. On the high shelf are plants in pots, some with the greenery hanging down to trail over the vanity.

The shower is massive. The head is a big square and set into a recessed area of the room with one sliding glass door at the front. There's a marble seat at one corner of the shower, and I realize when I look up that there's a separate head that runs along the back end of that wall, all the way along, so you can either stand under the square head or you can sit on the bench and let the water pour down on you.

“The second rectangular head is a rain shower,” Matteo says. “It's supposed to feel like you're sitting under a warm waterfall or something; I don't know. I never use it, only the big square one.”

“Did the designer do all this as well?” I ask.

“They did every damn thing,” he says with a laugh. “Even down to the bedsheets. They asked me what kind of colors I liked, and I told them. They asked me what sort of furniture I liked and showed me some pictures. I picked out the pieces that appealed to me. Then they presented me with a plan, and I agreed.”

“So, everything in this house is what the designer suggested, and not yours, as in you didn't buy any of it?”

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