Page 11 of Unruly Obsession
Ara bites her bottom lip. “Okay, maybe we can have a better conversation about this tomorrow? Call me with whatever you need. Lily, I’m really sorry about all of this. I swear I was trying to help by bringing you to Italy.”
I offer a sad smile. “I know. It just appears that my luck wants to throw me from one shit basket to the next.”
Ara laughs. “Did you just curse, Lily?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not the quintessential perfect daughter all the time, you know.”
Ara's still laughing as she says. “I don’t know many drunk people who can still use the wordquintessential, but sure. Go get some sleep.”
Her bodyguard, Tony, whispers something into Ara’s ear, and when she looks down, he’s offering her his phone. Obviously, Luca wasn’t impressed when she didn’t answer his call, and he's using his man to force her to answer.
I think back to all the times we encouraged their relationship, even when Ara showed reluctance. We thought she was in denial about their chemistry, and I suppose to an extent she was, but had we known this about Luca Armani, would we have still encouraged it?
All I know is that right now, I want a hot shower to try to drown out this swirling uncertainty.
I mean, honestly, me involved with the Italian Mafia?
It’s laughable.
Except I’m not laughing.
I collect my handbag from the bar and begin walking to the elevators. I can’t help but look behind me twice as Lorenzo follows me. It’s kind of creepy, but I’m sure he has to do it until I reach the elevator safely. Except he steps into the elevator with me.
“What are you doing?” I ask. He leans over, pushes the button for my floor, then leans against the mirrored wall, ever imposing. His six-foot-two frame buttoned up tight in his usual black suit. It’s only been by chance that I’ve seen the hint of a tattoo around his neck, and it's made me wonder if he’s riddled with tattoos. Having that visual in my mind right now makes me extremely frustrated.
The doors close, and I’m still staring at him expectantly as we stand in silence. I bite at my bottom lip as the tension devours me whole. It’s not just his size that’s imposing, but his simple presence. Right now, after a few drinks, I don’t know where the mix of disgust, frustration, and need for a release begins or ends.
When the elevator door opens, Lorenzo holds a hand in front of me, and I’m shocked by his rudeness until I realizehe’s looking down either side of the hallway. Surely, there’s not some assassin lurking on the top floor? Or maybe he’s doing it intentionally to goad me.
“Is it always going to be like this?” I ask, irritated. There’s being looked after and then there’s excessive diligence. Surely, this is excessive, right?
“Just making sure there’s no uneven floorboards so you don’t have obstacles on already wobbly legs,” he replies as he steps out, giving me space to walk through. Okay, so now he’s sassing me, as if it’s my fault we're stuck with each other for the foreseeable future.
“Ha ha, very funny. I think I preferred you when you didn’t speak.” I step over the elevator threshold. I’m squinting at each door number as I try to find mine. There are only four rooms on this level, but considering I don’t even recall the first time coming up here because I was in such a daze, I’m left to embarrassingly play a guessing game.
I just want to be in my suite already.
I stop in front of the third door, hovering the gold key over the locking mechanism, when I realize Lorenzo is still behind me. “Um, coast is clear, sergeant. You can leave now.”
He glares down at me. “I’m not going anywhere, and don’t ever call me sergeantagain.”
Touchy.
“Well, you’re not staying in my room.” As if tonight couldn’t get any worse, the last thing I need is an overbearing, brooding killer sitting in my room while I try to sleep. He shoves past me and steps into the suite, uninvited. “Hey!” I call out after him.
“Calm down, Sunshine. I don’t want what you have to offer. But as of now, whatever room you step into, I’ll be by your side. I’ve been ordered to protect you, and I will, even if you hate me for it.”
I slam the door, infuriated. “So, what? My feelings don’t matter in any of this?” I demand, and when he looks at me, deadpan, I realize this man doesn’t have one emotion in his body. I want to wring his neck. I don’t know how I could have ever found him attractive, even in the slightest. “Do you even know what feelings are? Or did they remove that in your default setting?”
In a matter of seconds, he’s in my space, leaning over me. I hold on to the dresser as I lean away, the heat from him radiating and pressing against my acutely aware body without even touching me.
“Let’s have an understanding. I didn’t ask for this any more than you did. In fact, I was against it. Every second I’m left trailing after you removes me from what I’m supposed to be doing. Which is protecting my boss. So, no, I don’t expect you to be comfortable with any of it. But I will warn you that how easy this is will depend on you and your attitude.”
My heart is racing as a crazed laugh bubbles to the surface. Of all the reactions I could have right now, laughter is not what I was expecting. I should be scared, intimidated even, which is clearly what he's trying to make me feel, and yet I can’t refrain from saying, “You don’t scare me. You can try those feral tactics on others, but you don’t use them on me. You speak to me like a lady, and you certainly treat me like one as well. If you want to act like a dog, I’ll train you like one.”
His dark-brown eyes narrow. I do my best to hold my ground, clinging to the fact that I know one thing about this man: He's on a leash. But I understand that doesn’t mean much. Maybe I’m conceited or too drunk, but I know he won’t hurt me.
No, instead he’s willing to pull me to safety when someone tries to run me over, and shield me when there's a gun pointed in my direction.
