Page 29 of Surprise Pregnancy for Villain

I cover myself with the towel, tucking the ends firmly across my unimpressive chest and hiding my silhouette from view. A life drawing class model I’ll never be. Someday, somewhere, there will be the right man for me, and he’s neither Lucca nor Simon. One who’ll take me away from all the misery being born into the mafia has brought me. But there’s no point thinking about that while I’m trapped in this nightmare. I need to find out what’s going on beyond these walls, out in the real world, if I’m ever going to free myself. There must be something on the news about me by now.

Exiting the bathroom, I turn the TV on, getting comfortable on the bed as I skip through the channels. There’s nothing about my kidnapping online. If the cops are not involved, it means my father has taken things into his own hands.

Which means there will be war.

A tremor runs through my body as I wrap my arms around me. I didn’t ask for this life. God knows I’d give it up in a heartbeat if I could. I’m tired of the bloodshed, the crimes, this obsession with tradition and duty. More than anything, I want a quiet life. Obscurity. The only way to achieve that is to break free—

The door suddenly flies open, making me jump. I tighten the towel around me as Ezio sails in. He stops short when he sees me.

“Ever heard of knocking, asshole?” I snap, rising from the bed.

His eyes slow-scan my figure before dropping to the bag in his hand. “You must be famished. I brought you something to fix that issue.”

“The only problem I have is being trapped in this hell hole.” I stab at finger at him. “Curtesy of your piece of shit behavior.”

“Trust me,that’snot a problem,” he replies, coming into the room. “There are far worse things than being here.”

“In case you’ve missed the obvious, I’m not wearing any clothes. Can I have some privacy? You owe me that, at least.”

Again, Ezio does that slow-motion scan of my body that makes me warm all over. He looks away, and it feels weird that I’m disappointed about that. I shouldn’t want him to keep staring at me. Yet, that look in his eyes…

I don’t know what it is, but it makes me feel good. Attractive. Desirable.

I’m probably reading too much into it, anyway. He’s probably only reacting like any other hot-blooded man who sees a half-naked woman. It’s only instinct. I doubt I’m his type.

“Fine,” he murmurs, moving to the nightstand and resting down the bag. “Have all the privacy you need.”

Maybe it’s his haughty tone. Maybe it’s the stress from the last few days or the fact that he’s currently loping toward the door, on his way to freedom. I don’t know what it is, but something sets me off. Without thinking, I grab the remote and throw it at him. It sails over his shoulders. Ezio freezes, then slowly pivots.

Murder.

That’s what I see in his eyes, like he’s about to murder me. I squeal with fright as he lunges at me, my back meeting the wall within a few seconds. I’m vaguely aware of his hard body pressing against mine and the fact that I’m only wearing a towel. His sweet and spicy cologne fills my senses with every deep inhale that I take.

“I’m trying to be patient and understanding with you, little girl,” Ezio growls. “But I’ve had enough of your bratty behavior.”

“Bratty?” Forgetting my fear, I push against him. “You’re holding me against my will. I’m angry. I’m scared. But I’m definitely not bratty.”

Ezio sighs, his expression settling. I almost drown in a sea of deep green as he meets my gaze. “Look, I understand that this experience might be terrifying. You have every right to be, but I’m going to need you to trust me. Believe me when I tell you that this is the safest place you could ever be.”

I search his eyes for some honesty, but they have transmuted into their usual unreadable state. “How long will I be safe, Ezio? Until you decide to kill me, or do you have something more sinister planned for me?” I ask, the words seeming to escape my mouth of their own free will, verbalizing my deepest, most feral thoughts.

He blinks and pulls away slightly, lessening the pressure of his body weight on me. “Neither. I’ve told you I won’t hurt you. That would encompass not killing you,” he says, his voice low and husky. “Trust me, Nicki, that’s all I ask.”

His words vibrate in his chest, transmitting a gentle buzz through to my body as we stand pressed together. In this moment, his voice sounds soothing, seductive and, coupled with his alluring cologne, makes a powerful overture. “You might as well kill me,” I reply. “Anything would be better than being treated like some China doll locked in a glass case, being spoon fed like a helpless infant.”

His brow lowers, shadowing his penetrating eyes. “You find it so unpleasant? You have control over that, I told you. Your stay can be very much improved with the right attitude.”

“What attitude is that?” I ask, my breath coming short, my chest expanding and contracting against his hard body, the pure weight of his presence almost as trapping as his physical bulk. But I don’t feel trapped exactly…I feel…protected. What is happening to me?

“That you are safe, and there’s no cause for you to be afraid or to be so goddamned combative,” he replies, his lips curling into a kind of pout—the lips that I’m now wondering what they feel like. At such close range, I can practically count each beard hair along the curve of his upper lip. “As for spoon feeding, it may come to that if you keep refusing to eat.” Suddenly, I’m aware of the additional aromas of food in the room. I smell roast beef and gravy, and the rich sweetness of melting butter. “I presume you wish to live?” he asks. I give a small nod, my mind still distracted by his strong presence, his singular magnetism holding me in a weird state of limbo. “Then you must eat.”

Ezio backs away, his eyes gliding the length of my leg, exposed to the hip by the short towel. My skin prickles into goosebumps, and my pussy gives a convulsive twitch. His eyes linger there, in the space between my legs, then quickly looks aside. I gently tug the edge of the towel down to cover what little I can, unnerved by my body’s strange and involuntary reaction. Despite his size and callous actions, his manner is not completely threatening. As I think back, his only threatening moves were in response to my own aggressiveness. Perhaps he really means what he says that he intends no harm. But then, what the hell is he keeping me here for, and why is my stomach suddenly in knots over his body being pressed to mine?

I move to the bed warily, the smell of roast beef dispelling my momentary queasiness. I should get dressed, but what is the point when he’s already seen me next to naked? Besides, my clothes are wet, and I don’t want to let him out of my sight or turn my back to him while he’s here. I look at the plate of food on the nightstand, the cold remains of the last meal having been taken away. A mound of mashed potatoes lies alongside the slices of meat covered in a delicious-looking gravy. I pick up the knife and fork he’s provided, metal this time, and dig in.

The beef is as tender as it looks, and my mouth waters as I lift the fork to my lips. The taste of food on my tongue is heavenly, my earlier worries over poison forgotten. I could eat almost anything right now, and I devour the meal with enjoyment. I scoop potatoes into my mouth alternating with forkfuls of meat, uncaring that gravy is dribbling down my chin. The only noise I hear is the clattering of my silverware on the plate. When a bottle of water and a napkin is set in front of me, I look up from my food for the first time in several minutes.

Ezio is staring at me intently, the look in his eyes almost as though I’m the meal on his own plate. With a blush, I grab the napkin and hastily wipe away the glob of gravy. “It’s not polite to stare,” I say.

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