Page 14 of Dating the Don

It’s so freaking hard to think straight when every muscle in his well-toned chest is perfectly on display like it is. How am I supposed to answer him when I’m trying to mentally trace the line of his abs, and I’m getting very, very distracted by thinking about where the line of hair leading from his navel, angled downward by the deep V of his hips, seems to be luring me toward.

What is wrong with me?

“I asked you a question, Maeve,” he says with authority.

Goosebumps ripple down my spine. I’m so tempted to just walk away and start getting ready for bed, but his attention is keeping my feet wholly and utterly rooted to the spot.

“It’s not a game.”

“You do understand that your life is actually on the line here?” He asks with no room for teasing or jokes.

I finally meet his deep gaze. “Of course, I do.”

“After what you saw in the basement… my men wanted you dead. I am new to this role, my authority is not absolute yet. I still have to prove myself to my men each and every day until they come to trust me implicitly. Not seeing you for ten minutes…”

My eyes widen. I didn’t realize that trust went both ways. Are there men in this house that he doesn’t wholly trust? I didn’t think for a single moment that it was about my safety. I thought he was being controlling or that it was a joke or something.

Cristiano worried about me? Actually?

“I’m sorry… Cris, I didn’t think…” I whisper, shame heating my face. I don’t like being wrong, and I like admitting it even less.

It feels weird to call him by his nickname at a time like this. Almost like it’s too intimate. Which might or might not have something to do with his choice of attire. For all of the times thathe’s chosen to flirt shamelessly with me, I never took it seriously. Perhaps I should have.

He pauses in front of me, his hands clasped behind his back for a long moment as he holds my gaze. Wherever the conversationwasgoing, he seems to think better of it. “Thank you.” He takes a single step back from me. “Good night then, Maeve.”

It’s dismissive and cold, and his tone brokers no room for argument. Feeling oddly rejected, I grab my bag of belongings and slink into the bathroom to get changed.

In a matter of minutes, I'm all ready andwearing an old sleep shirt. I skip the sleep shorts and instead make the awkward trip from the restroom to the bed, where I then slide into the opulent bedding. I'm not sure if he noticed my legs, but at least the shirt is long enough to cover my ass. For the most part, anyhow.

As I turn to lie on my side, he is there. Stretched out over the couch, wearing his black underwear only. I feel like my eyes are about to pop out of my skull. My instinct tells me to look away, but if he's my fiancé now, for however long it lasts, maybe there's no harm in taking a quick peek.

His fault for being practically naked.

“You sleep like that?” I blurt.

Can’t take it back. I swear I can see his smirk in the dim light filtering in from the open archway to the bathroom.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Are you offering to warm me up?” Cristiano says without missing a beat. His voice is softer now than it was a moment ago. Flirty and confident like it normally is.

Doesn’t stop my face from heating up at the mere idea of it. “No. Of course, not.”

Cristiano chuckles as I roll over to face the bathroom instead of him. How would that even work? My mind is only too happy to instantly supply dozens of different ideas and positions as toexactlyhow I might warm him up. I pull the covers up higher.

“I just… you know… don’t want you to blame me for being cold in the morning,” I mutter, not really even knowing what I'm saying. I cringe at myself. “And your bed is inhumanely big so…”

He did say that nobody would know what happened behind these closed doors after all and lord knows I could use some comfort after the crazy day that I’ve had. It’s a fake engagement, so there can’t be anything wrong with testing the waters a little bit more. Right?

The engagement ring on my finger glints in the low light. I am very tempted to say something else but the next thing I know the bed sags and then he’s there under the covers with me.

My face feels like it’s going tomelt.

Then the heat courses a hell of a lot lower as he pulls me back against his chest effortlessly.

“If you wanted company, Maeve, you only had to ask.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

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