Page 40 of Ruthless Guardian

A faint sound purses Isabella’s lips, drawing my attention to the bed. She rolls over, and her skirt crawls up her thighs, revealing soft, milky-white flesh. A groan vibrates my throat as a hint of pink panties appear.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I force myself to turn around. Improper. Unprofessional.Wrong. With my cock already thickening, I compel my feet toward the window. Tourists line the busy streets just a stone’s throw from the Colosseum, it’s ancient crumbling columns standing proud against the brilliant sun. It’s just past three in the afternoon and all the stores are opening once again, after the typical afternoon closures. The Spaniards aren’t the only Europeans who take a mid-daysiesta,even the eternal city comes to a halt for lunch. My stomach grumbles again, but at least my hunger for food turns my thoughts away from the other hunger coiling beneath my belt.

“What time is it?” A familiar raspy voice jerks my attention from the sights below. Isabella sits up, and a yawn escapes her pursed lips.

“Just past three.”

She stretches her arms over her head and her blouse rides up, gifting me a sneak peek of skin. “Why’d you let me sleep for so long?”

I shrug. “You seemed tired.”

“Now I’ll never sleep tonight.”

“Sure you will, just have a glass of wine with dinner, and you’ll sleep like a baby.”

Isabella’s dark brow arches, the corner of her mouth lifting with it. “Are you trying to get me drunk,signorFerrara?”

“I would never,signorinaValentino.” But a smile crawls across my lips all the same. “Now get ready, I’m starving, and I haven’t had real food in years.”

“Real food?”

“Yes, you know,Italianfood.”

With an eyeroll that has my palm twitching, she slides to the edge of the mattress and laces up her sneakers. Once they’re on, she slowly rises, pinning me in that wary gaze. “So where are you taking me for dinner? A romantic spot by the Colosseum?”

“OhDio,no. All they have around here are tourist traps. You won’t find any real Roman food in this area. We’ll have to go to the outskirts of town.”

“Great. Is Sal ready to go?”

I shake my head at her, a grin creeping across my face. “It’s our first night in Rome, the most beautiful city in the world, we’re walking,principessa.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I have my sneakers on then.”

I eye her oversized American shoes, and I must scowl because she saunters up to me and slaps her hands on her hips.

“What? What’s wrong with my Hokas?”

“Nothing. If you want to look like a tourist… You might as well be waving an American flag as you walk.”

A laugh tumbles from her lips andDio, that sound kicks up my sluggish heartbeat. She twists her foot, eyeing the bright yellow and orange shoe. “They’re not that bad, are they?”

“If you want to look like a real Italian, I’ll take you to buy some more appropriate footwear tomorrow.”

“Thanks, I think,” she mumbles. “I’m not sure if I should be upset about you insulting my sense of shoe style or appreciative for the tip.”

“Definitely the latter.” I twist the knob and hold the door open. “Now come on, I’m literally going to eat my arm off in a second.”

After a quick walk by some of the city’s most iconic sights, the Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps, and St. Peter’s Basilica, I’d really worked up an appetite. But I can’t even focus on eating more with this tempting woman sitting across from me.

“Oh,Dio, this is heaven.” Isabella slurps up the final bite of spaghetti carbonara with a groan, and I shift uncomfortably beneath the worn wooden table. The quainttrattoriais nearly empty, with only one other table occupied besides ours. It’s exactly why I picked it.

Watching this woman eat has been a true testament of my self-control. I’ve never met anyone enjoy food the way she does. Every bite comes with a groan or a moan, a licking of lips or some other tantalizing gesture that has fire racing to my cock.

I finished my meal in record time and have spent the last twenty minutes watching her devour the pasta. I never thoughtthe simple act of eating could be so damned sexy. I reach for the glass of wine and down a deep gulp. Drinking on the job is one of those hard and fast rules, butcazzo, being with this woman makes me want to throw all my guidelines out the damned window.

Just tonight. So I can sleep.

If I have any hopes of getting quality rest on the floor, I’ll need to be knocked unconscious.

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