Page 38 of Ruthless Guardian

The man across the speaker apologizes a hundred times over in both Italian and English as my guard tears him a new one.

Latching onto Raf’s arm, I tug him away from the call box. “It’s not a big deal, we can just stay at a hotel for the night.”

“That will be difficult,signorina.” Salvatore pivots his gaze to meet my guard’s feral one. “It’s the beginning ofEstate Romana, it’s a four-month festival throughout the city featuring film screenings, theatre performances, concerts, special exhibitions, and more. Finding a hotel so last minute will prove challenging.” He swallows hard as he forces out the last word.

“Fucking unbelievable,” Raf grumbles.

“I would offer you my home,” Sal continues, “but unfortunately, I live with my family in a smallappartamento, and my hospitality would only extend to a cramped sofa.”

“Thanks, Sal, I appreciate the offer, but there are hundreds of hotels in the city.” I pull my phone out of my back pocket and pull up my favorite hotel app. “They can’t possibly all be sold out.” I scroll through the endless list of accommodations and find… nothing. “Merda.”

Raf is pacing and cursing now, his perfect plan gone awry, and I’ve never seen the man so flustered.

“I know, I’ll just call the professor who coordinated the residency atPoliclinico Gemelli. I’m sure he can help us find a place.”

“He better,” Raf grumbles. “Let’s get back to the car. I don’t like being out in the open like this.” I shoot him a super dramatic eyeroll because we are in one of the nicest parts of Rome, not downtown Baghdad, as he escorts me back toward the enormous black limousine. The huge car stands out like a sore thumb among the dainty European vehicles. I’ll never fit in here if I’m forced to ride in that monstrosity all summer. I make a mental note to discuss that with my guardian once he’s in a less murderous mood.

Once we’re safely back behind the tinted windows of the limo, I find the contact information forProfessoreRicci and pray he has an answer for us, or I’m afraid Raf might quite literally explode.

Thankfully, the residency coordinator answers on the second ring. “Pronto?”

“Buongiorno, ProfessoreRicci?”

“Si?”

“Hi, this is Isabella Valentino.”

“Oh, yes, of course,signorinaValentino. Professor Dykeman spoke very highly of you.”

Heat flushes my cheeks at the compliment. Dykeman is not one who gives out praises often. “Well, I just arrived from New York and unfortunately my apartment isn’t ready. There was some confusion as to my arrival date. I tried to find a hotel, but the entire city seems booked. You wouldn’t happen to have any insider tips, would you?”

“Ah, that is going to be a bit problematic withEstate Romanakicking off this weekend. But wait, give me a second, I will think of something.” The click-clack of quick fingers striking a keyboard echoes through the phone line.

“Thank you, I really appreciate your help,ProfessoreRicci.” I thrum my fingers against the supple leather of the backseat.

“Please, call me Massimo. We will be seeing a lot of each other this summer, and my full name and title would get quite tiresome.”

“Okay, Massimo.”

Raf sits beside me, tension vibrating from his entire form. His thigh brushes against mine, and I can feel the coiled muscle beneath his slacks. I whirl on him and mouth, “Relax.”

“Ah, I’ve found something,signorina. It’s likely not what you’re used to at home, but it is clean and close to the center of town.”

“I’m sure it’ll be just fine.”

“Perfetto. I will have my assistant, Carlo, make a reservation at thepensione, so the owner knows to expect you. Her name is Bianca, and she will be the most gracious hostess. I will text you the address now.”

“Grazie tanto, Massimo.”

“No need to thank me, I’m happy to help. I will see you on Monday at thePoliclinico. If anything else should arise, please do not hesitate to contact me.”

The moment I pocket my phone, Raf’s enraged eyes meet mine. “So?”

“Relax, everything is under control.” A part of me can’t help the satisfaction at seeing my cool and collected bodyguard so unhinged. I guess Mr.Perfettoisn’t so perfect after all. I cross the sprawling backseat and press the button that opens the window to the driver’s portion of the vehicle. “I’ve got an address, Sal.”

As I read the name and address to our new driver, Raf looms over my shoulder. A muttered curse squeezes through his gritted teeth.

“What’s wrong now?”

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