Page 48 of Heartless Vows

“Which one is your room?” Giorgio asks, snapping me out of my spiral.

I take a deep breath and blink until my surroundings come into focus.

“Tristan’s room.” I point to the first room on the left. “My room.” The second on the left. “My mother’s suite.” The last door on the right. “My father’s suite.” The first door on the right.

Giorgio’s alertness surpasses the level he showed when we visited his lawyer’s office. He scans the ceiling for cameras and studies the paintings and fixtures for abnormalities. His eyes pause on both mine and my brother’s doorhandles.

A wave of uncertainty grips me as I realize the sexiest, most ruthless man I’ve ever met is about to see my room. He’ll be the first male to step foot in my personal domain in six years. That’scounting Tristan’s last visit. My father rarely haunts the hall, electing to sleep either in his study or on the third floor.

Otello never steps foot beyond the second-floor landing.

Deciding to act before I lose my courage, I pull away from Giorgio, surprised when he lets me, and grab his hand. After weaving my fingers within his, I pull him toward my room and fling open the door.

Like a character in a comic book, I rush headlong through the doorway only to screech to a halt halfway across the room. After taking a few calming breaths, I turn to see his reaction.

It’s shocking how expressive the man can be. Without a single word, he eases all my fears. Even though the menace never leaves his aura, the upward tilt of his lips and the interest shining in his eyes assures me he likes my room.

Shit. My prescription sits on the top shelf.

I tug him into the bathroom and pray he didn’t see it.

“Can you give me a minute? I’ll open the door when I’m done.”

He quirks a brow.

“Don’t women usually hideinthe bathroom when they need a minute?”

“Look, you can go through the cabinets in here while you wait, if you want. Just let me tidy up in the bedroom a little.”

He encloses me in his arms and cups the back of my head in his massive hand.

“If you’re trying to hide naughty toys, don’t bother. They’ll just become tools in my arsenal, anyway. I’ll learn how to use your favorites and watch you writhe on my cock as I torture and tease you.”

“You don’t need any help.” His eyes flash with masculine pride as I stroke his ego with my words and throaty response. “I don’t have toys, but…” I take a deep breath and reveal my insecurities. “I’ve never had a guy in my room before. Never hadanyone in my room besides my mother. I just want to tidy it up a bit. Please?”

He groans and takes my mouth in a searing, desperate kiss. When he pulls away, we both gasp for breath.

“What are you doing to me,topolina?” he murmurs with his forehead pressed against mine.

I don’t have an answer for him, so I say nothing.

“Fine, but I’m opening the door in two minutes if you haven’t already.”

“Thank you,” I say before pecking his cheek and closing the door between us.

Despite the urge to grab my medicine first, I open my bedside table and drop the jar of odds and ends—including my bobby pins—into the back of the drawer. I take my medicine from the top shelf and slip it into my purse, moving carefully so the pills don’t clatter, and zip it closed before rushing to my desk and moving things around.

The bathroom door opens not even thirty seconds later.

He catches me before I can rush into my walk-in closet.

“Is this where your mother locks you in?” he asks, but he already knows the answer before I shake my head, since there’s no lock on the door. Not even the bathroom has a lock.

“But she locks your bedroom door?”

I nod.

“It doesn’t bother you?”

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