Page 37 of Royally Roma
Because this is all you can afford.
She tried to force her gaze away from the bed, but suddenly it was all she could see. And she couldn’t seem to look at it without imagining herself naked, tangled in sheets, with Nico doing unspeakable things to her. His hands in her hair, his lying lips on her thighs...
“This is where you live?” he asked, surveying the four hundred square feet that she called home.
“This is it.” She pasted on a smile. “Home sweet home.”
“It’s...” He looked at the bed, at her, then back at the bed. “Charming.”
Julia’s knees buckled a little. Thankfully, Valentina, her little Yorkie, chose that moment to awaken and come charging toward them from her dog bed in the corner. She was just what Julia needed—a chaperone. Even a furry, pint-sized one was better than nothing.
Valentina yapped and ran in frantic circles around the two of them.
“Is this miniscule creature your dog?” Nico asked. His skillful lips curved up in amusement.
“Yes, but don’t try and pet her. You could get hurt. She’s not fond of men.”
Nico arched a dubious brow. “I think I can manage to hold my own.”
“I’m dead serious.”
He gave her a knowing look. Too knowing. “She’s not fond of men? Or she’s not accustomed to them?”
Julia hated, absolutely hated, the way it felt like he could see inside her head at times. “Go ahead. Get bit. See if I care.”
He bent to pet Valentina. Julia winced, waiting for the inevitable. Elio’s brief tenure at her flat had been characterized with frequent bouts of cursing and the ongoing application of Band-Aids and Neosporin.
But to her utter astonishment, the moment Nico’s hand made contact with Valentina’s petite head, the little Yorkie grew silent. She flopped onto her back and offered her belly for rubbing.
Nico cooed at Valentina. Valentina gazed up at him as if he’d hung the moon. Or invented dog biscuits.
Nico shrugged. “I have a way with...” For the love of God, if he said females, Julia would tie him to a chair and stuff his mouth full of socks like a proper hostage. “... dogs.”
“I see,” she said primly, turning her back on Valentina’s shameless display. It reminded her far too much of her own behavior throughout the course of this bizarre day.
“I need to make a call. There’s a ransom to be arranged. Remember?” Nico said.
Julia folded a dish towel in half, unfolded it, and then folded it again before aiming her gaze back in his direction. She needed a minute to gather herself. It was too hard to think, to breathe, to do much of anything with him in her flat.
Of course she remembered. He was a mighty distraction, but even he couldn’t make her forget about the money—the reason they were here. The reasonhewas here, three feet away from her bed, holding her dog.
Valentina was now nestled in the crook of Nico’s elbow with her little chin resting on his chest, gazing up at him like he was the king of the entire universe. Julia half expected a crown to appear on his head. “It’s hardly ransom. It’s the fee for your tour. But you can call it whatever you like, so long as you pay me.”
The sooner, the better. She needed him gone before she did something monumentally stupid. Gone, gone, gone. Or at least not in such close proximity to her bed.
“If you need privacy, you can use the terrace.” She pointed to the narrow French doors opposite the kitchen.
“You trust me not to climb down the fire escape?”
God, he was infuriating. This was all a game to him, wasn’t it? “There is no fire escape.”
“I see. Let’s hope the place doesn’t go up in flames, then.” He gave her another one of those looks that made her feel as though she was melting against her will. Succumbing to some invisible inferno.
Then he made his way to the balcony, crossing the room in just a handful of steps. Valentina remained nestled in his arms with her little face peering over his shoulder, blinking innocently at Julia. So much for loyalty. She wished she could be angry at the traitorous dog, but she couldn’t. She understood perfectly well.
Fascino fatale.
“WHAT DO YOU MEANit can’t be done?” Niccolo roared into his phone. A seagull that had perched on the railing of Julia’s miniscule balcony flapped its wings and flew off in the direction of one of Rome’s domed basilicas, glowing like a firefly against the night sky.
