Page 48 of Unruly Obsession
I shake my head because it’s just like Romi to leave such a lasting impression. But she also doesn’t joke with those she doesn’t like, which means that for whatever reason, Romi approves of Lorenzo.
But it doesn’t shift the reality that none of this is real. “It’s nothing,” I say, refocusing on the bouquet in front of me. “She likes to joke a lot.”
I can sense the intensity of his gaze, a feeling I still haven’t gotten used to. I don’t think I ever will. And even if I did, he’ll be long gone by then. Soon, they'll get to the bottom of this threat that I’m starting to believe isn’t even real. As the weeks have passed, the memory of that day has slowly receded, and it doesn’t hold as much of its terrifying power over me anymore.
“Any news on the hitmen?” I ask curiously.
“No leads yet,” Lorenzo replies.
I steal a glance at him as he stares down at his phone. I haven’t seen him sleep, even when I’ve peeked in on him at all hours of the night and morning. He seems to be forever working, and I wonder if it’s all for my safety or if there’s something else to it entirely.
He looks up, those dark-brown eyes freezing me in place, and I’m taken back to the changing room.
I want him.
Can feel him all over my body, even when he’s not touching me.
His gaze drops to my lips, and I know he’s thinking the same. But when he steps forward, he bypasses me, heading into the back room instead, and I feel the icy rejection in his wake.
My jaw clenches. It's infuriating that I’m longing for a man that I shouldn’t be. The sexual tension is insufferable. But even worse than that is the constant rejection and acute realization that this will never be anything more.
The red velvet box catches my eye, and I’m yet again reminded I’m facing bigger issues than Lorenzo Moretti, even if he takes up more space in my mind than I’ve willingly given him.
19
LORENZO
“You’re not going on that date,” I say as we walk into her apartment.
She slips her heels off, then her earrings, and removes the tie from her hair. It’s routine. So is her fucking scowl that is begging to be punished.
“You still seem not to understand that you don’t get to tell me what to do.” Lily’s been particularly hardheaded since we had dinner at her family’s estate. Something about overstepping boundaries, but I don’t give a fuck about any of that when it comes to keeping her safe.
“I don’t have time for your games tonight.” I follow her to the bottom of the stairs. She’s making a good show of ignoring me lately, but when she does speak to me, it’s rapid fire until she eventually slams a door in my face. Her hips sway from side to side as she walks up to her bedroom.
“We’re done with this discussion, and don’t you dare follow me. My room is off-limits,” she reminds me.
She even put a lock on her bedroom door this week, following our disagreement over her "personal space" after I replaced a few of her things with listening devices. I didn't tell her there aremore than the ones she found, even when she asked me. I will lie, cheat, and get my hands dirty to keep her safe.
It will also only take me a matter of seconds to break into her room, but I'll let her believe the lock will keep me out if it makes her feel better.
“I’m serious, Lily,” I call after her.
She flips me off over her shoulder, and my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Definitely brattier this week. Women are hard work. It’s like stepping on land mine after land mine, yet I find myself still catering to her. Making sure she’s eaten for the day, has her iced tea, and is attentive to her daily clothing choices. I was even aware of when she changed her perfume for one day, for fuck's sake.
I slip into the guest room, peeling off my suit jacket and unbuttoning my shirt. I place my gun on the end of the bed, then pull my phone out of my pocket and make a call.
My mood sours the moment Dmitri Volkov's voice comes through the speaker.
“Never thought I’d receive a call from you personally. You’re either in deep shit or have decided to pull the pole out of your ass to have some fun,” the asshole has the balls to greet me with.
“It’s shocking that God gave you a second chance in this life,” I reply.
“Let’s not pretend either of us prays to a particular god. Need I remind you thatyoucalledme?”
I make a habit of searching my room to make sure nothing has been shifted or seems out of the ordinary. It’s a modern, beautiful apartment, but it never feels right, not that I’ve used the bed much. Instead choosing to stay in the living room where I have the easiest access to her, taking only a few hours of sleep when necessary.
“Vince Taylor. What do you know about him?” I ask. I’ve seen the two engaged in discussions before. There’s somethingoff about Lily's brother, but I can’t place it, and digging into their affairs is taking longer than I’d like.
