Page 39 of Ruthless Guardian

He looses a frustrated breath and sits back on the seat as I buckle my seatbelt. “The area hasn’t been scouted, the staff vetted… nothing. I spent days researching the area around the apartment, the owner, past tenants, etcetera.”

“I’m sure everything will be fine. It’s one night, Raf. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Well,merda.” I stare at the tiny room with one queen size bed that spreads from wall to wall, and my heart just about hits the soles of my feet.

“Mi dispiace, signorina, but this is the only room available.”

Yeah, I’m sorry too, because there is no way I’m sharing a bed with my bodyguard. And there’s not even a couch.

Bianca stands beside me in the doorway, her long silver hair pulled into a bun, as I eye the closet-sized quarters. There’s not even a private bathroom in thepensione, instead all the rooms on the floor share the one in the hallway. In all fairness, there are only six in the petite establishment, three on each floor, but still, that means sharing a toilet and a shower with strangers.

“No, absolutely not, this will not do.” Raf drops our suitcases, then stomps around the room before letting loose on the poor woman in Italian.

I jerk him back when the little old lady starts to tremble. “Enough!” I growl, digging my fingernails into his arm. Once he’s stopped cursing, I slam my palms into his annoyingly firm chest and shove him down on the bed. Then I spin around to face the woman once more muttering apologies. “The room will be fine,grazie.” Then I pull a fifty Euro bill from my pocket and sneak it into her hand. “I’m so sorry about him.”

Shaking her head, Bianca darts out of the room so fast my head spins. When the door slams shut behind her, I whirl on the big brute still muttering curses in Italian. “That was totally uncalled for.”

“How can she expect us to sleep here?” He points back and forth between us like a madman.

“It’s not her fault. We’re lucky we’re not spending the night in the limo.”

“Maybe that’s not the worst idea,” he mumbles as he drags his hand through his hair. “It’ll be more comfortable than the floor.” He points at the sliver of space between the end of the mattress, the suitcases and the door.

I’m not even certain those broad shoulders of his will fit.

“You’re right. You go sleep in the car, and I’ll be right here.” I plop down beside him, and stretch out, the jet lag starting to hit hardcore.

He snorts on a laugh. “Like I would leave you here by yourself,principessa.”

“You’re right… Bianca seems like a shifty one. You better keep an eye on her while I take a quick nap.”

The ghost of a smile tilts up the corner of his lip, and I refuse to acknowledge the flutter of wings it incites low in my belly. Instead, I curl under the blankets and my head sinks into the pillow.

He blows out a frustrated breath and pushes up to his feet. “Sleep,principessa, we’ll figure out the evening’s arrangements later.”

I barely hear the last part of his sentence as sleep takes hold, my lids so heavy I can do nothing but succumb to the darkness.

CHAPTER 20

A LITTLE FUN

Raffaele

Sleep threatens to overtake me, my lids growing heavier by the moment, as I pace the small confines of the hotel room. With this quiet time to reflect, the guilt has started to set in. I’ll have to apologize to Bianca later. I hate the feeling of lack of control, and clearly, I do not do well with surprises. The apartment not being ready was bad enough, but then to be forced to spend the night in this tiny room with Isabella is pushing my restraint to the limit. I shouldn’t have taken it out on the owner of thepensione… Damn it, Giuseppe was right about my temper.

I heave out a breath, and my stomach rumbles reminding me I’m also starving. At this point, I’m not certain what I want more: to join Isabella in that bed for an hour of blessed sleep or a pizza. Shaking my head, I remind myself I can’t have either.

My mouth waters, and I’m not certain if it’s from the idea of food orher. A curtain of dark hair is splayed across her pillow, her lips slightly parted in sleep. I watch, hypnotized, at thegentle rise and fall of her chest, at her perfect breasts straining against her pale blue blouse.

I’ve been watching her like acoglionefor the past two hours as she sleeps peacefully, and it’s absolute torture. Besides being sleepy as all hell myself, I’ve been swept with the most overwhelming desire to curl up beside her.

It has to be sleep-deprivation.

I do not cuddle.

I wasn’t lying to Isabella earlier, I do not do relationships. That doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally fuck women… I’m no saint by any means. I need an occasional release like any man, and my rough palm doesn’t always do the trick.

But with her… I’m suddenly inundated with all thesefeelings. Feelings I’d promised myself long ago I’d bury, never to see the light of day again. It is the only way to survive in this line of work.

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