Page 42 of Royally Roma
She sat bolt upright in bed, blinked against the darkness and tried to piece together the night before. Why was her head so fuzzy? And why was she only wearing her pajama top?
Then it all came rushing back. The kiss. The embarrassment. The wine. So much wine. But not enough to make her forget that there was a man in her flat. A man whom she seemed to alternately despise and adore.
She looked across the room, and there he was. The man whose last name she still didn’t know, sound asleep on her sofa. In the rest of her pajamas, no less. God, why did they have to be calledboyfriendfit? And why did he have to be shirtless? With her bedsheets draped over his bare chest, he looked like a provocative Caesar.
She resisted the urge to peek beneath the covers. The last thing she wanted to do was wake him. She needed time to think, time to put things in perspective without the disorienting pleasure of those gray eyes gazing at her. She couldn’t concentrate around him. He sent her head reeling whenever she looked at him.
Which made it a good thing that he would be gone soon. Off to Helsinki to do his thing, whatever that might be. Assuming, of course, that her money would be delivered first thing in the morning as promised.
She almost believed him now. She wasn’t sure why, but she sort of did. Maybe because she’d all but thrown herself at him and he’d acted honorably. Like a gentleman.
How was it possible to feel like she could trust this man? It didn’t make a bit of sense. But she sort of did trust him now. Somehow, some way, she would get her money.
Yet it would be a hollow victory since she was jobless now. Why was she even awake this early? She didn’t have a tour this morning, thanks to Nico or Mano or whoever he was. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go.
She took a deep, yoga-esque breath and counted to ten. Despite the massive detour her life had taken in the past twenty-four hours, she would figure it out. Everything would be fine. It had to be.
She could do this. She’d find another job. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of private touring companies in Rome. Surely one of them would give her a chance. It would be easier if she could use Giuseppe as a reference, but clearly that was out of the question. Still, she’d find something.
Just as soon as she managed to rid herself of the Adonis on her couch.
He shifted a little and the sheet fell away, exposing a set of washboard abs the likes of which she’d never seen outside of a Roman sculpture gallery. She couldn’t help but stare. He looked like he’d been Photoshopped. Or at the very least like he was enjoying the flattering benefits of a Valencia Instagram filter.
Real people actually looked like this?
“Good morning.”
Julia’s face went hot. He’d caught her looking. Because of course he had.
She dragged her gaze from his tanned physique to his knowing smirk, pausing ever so slightly to notice the fine trail of dark hair that started just below his belly button and ended somewhere beneath the waistband of his pajama bottoms.Herpajama bottoms, technically. They rode so low on his hips it was practically criminal. Which she supposed was rather appropriate considering hewasa criminal.
“Good morning, captive. How did you sleep?” She nodded toward his feet dangling off the end of her secondhand couch. Crushed red velvet. Retro. Kitschy. And way too small to accommodate his sizable frame.
“Like a baby.” His sat up, rolled his neck from side to side and winced.
Julia couldn’t help but smile. “I’d call you a liar, but that’s already been established.”
“I suppose I deserve that,” he said. Then he frowned at a lump wiggling beside him under the covers.
It shimmied closer to the edge of the sofa until Valentina’s petite little head poked out from beneath the edge of the blanket.
So her dog was sleeping with him now?
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Julia rolled her eyes.
“I told you I have a way with dogs.” Nico ran his hand over the Yorkie’s tiny back, and the dog peered up at him with unabashed affection. It was like Julia wasn’t even there.
Will the humiliation ever end?
Julia scooped up Valentina and cleared her throat. “I need to take her for a quick walk. That will give you time to wake up and... you know... put some clothes on.”
Please,pleaseput some clothes on.
Nico raked a hand through his hair, and his bicep flexed in the process. Not that Julia noticed.
“Whatever you say. You’re the one calling the shots around here.” He winked.
She tried not to think about the fact that if she was truly the one calling the shots, he might have woken up in her bed this morning rather than the sofa. But she couldn’t manage to think about anything else. Not while he was so close. And so... so...shirtless.
