Page 41 of The Don

Ruben’s room is filled with dark, rich, opulent colors. The carpet is black and plush, the walls are hues of fall red while his bedding is luxurious and shades of winter deep greens. The room itself should be overwhelming, but the sheer expanse and dim lighting gives the feel of a sensual boudoir.

Ruben walks out of a room on the left, and considering he’s wearing a towel low on his hips, I assume that’s the bathroom. He sees me and a slow smile stretches his lips. I can’t help but stare at his taut body. Though his torso is completely covered in tattoos and his arms are entirely sleeved. “Amorina, can I help you?” Water droplets cling to the ends of his dark hair and to his body. My heartbeat thumps as I rake my eyes over his torso. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I try to focus on anything else other than his beautiful body. “Amorina?” he says with amusement.

“Um.” My eyes widen as I attempt to hold onto my dignity. I clear my throat and straighten. “Do you need help with...” I point toward him. “...anything?” I clear my throat again and force myself to look at the carpet at his feet. The tattoos continue onto his legs and disappear behind the towel. I want to peek at what’s beneath the towel. Stop it. “Do you...are you...” I pause for a moment to gather my thoughts, but when Ruben turns and I catch sight of his muscled back and the tattoos covering it, I gasp. Lifting my hand to cover my mouth, I feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

He’s truly beautiful.

He turns to see me place my fingers to my lips and chuckles. “What do you need?”

I lower my hand and pull my shoulders back. He’s just a man, Eliza. Get over yourself. “Is your wound okay?” He turns to show me. “Josiah had it bandaged, why did you take it off?”

He flicks his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t be. What if the wound becomes infected?” I walk further into his room. “Do you have a medical kit here?”

“I’ll be fine,” he repeats.

I shake my head as I slip past him into the bathroom. I open the cabinet beneath the sink and find a first aid kit that has a decent range of products. “Sit.” I point to the bed.

“Can I get changed first?”

My body is on fire at the thought of only a towel separating what I’d really like to see. I shut the medical kit and lower my gaze. “Of course,” I say in a scratchy, small voice.

Ruben’s low chuckle can be heard clearly as he walks into his closet and flicks on the light. I try not to peek but that’s quite difficult to do when I know he’s in there with only a towel.

What is wrong with me? Why have my hormones sparked to life like they’re starving and can’t wait to consume Ruben? Ruben emerges from the walk-in wearing nothing but boxer briefs.

Oh come on, that’s not fair. How am I supposed to not look at him, and the outline of what his boxer briefs are hiding?

“Sit,” I say and point to the bed again.

“Aren’t you bossy?” He laughs but follows my instructions.

I sit beside Ruben to look at the wound. God, I need to keep my eyes and attention on the wound, and not on the definition of his shoulders. Or even the contour of his stomach. And I definitely shouldn’t be looking at that curve on his lower hips that disappears into his boxer briefs. My hand extends and I trail my fingertips over his ribcage.

Ruben sucks in a deep breath and straightens. “Do-does it hurt?” I bite on the inside of my cheek, stopping myself from breathing heavy.

“No,” he says in a strained voice.

“I should cover it to make sure it doesn’t become infected.” My fingertips trail down his side, way past the wound and heading toward the elastic of his boxer briefs. Ruben’s hands tighten into fists, then instantly relax. I should stop, but I don’t want to.

“Amorina,” his smoky, throaty voice cuts through me.

“I’m sorry,” I say and snatch my hand back before I can do something stupid. “Um.” I open the medical kit and retrieve everything I need to make sure the wound is dry and covered. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

“Take your time.”

Storm lies down by the door, but his eyes are carefully watching me. I suck in a breath, then clean, pat dry, and cover the wound. Once done, I close the medical kit and get to my feet fast. The air in the room is thick with tension. I can’t bring myself to say anything to him, because I don’t trust myself. I’m afraid I might say or do something stupid. Like try to kiss him. “There you go.” Ruben’s eyes darken as he continues to sit on the bed. “I...um.” I’m a bumbling fool. Besides, what would a man like Ruben see in a girl like me? Without speaking another word, I head into his bathroom and return the medical kit where I found it. “What is wrong with you?” I whisper to myself before I stand and turn toward the door, which Ruben’s blocking. My eyes dart around the room as my breath hitches in my chest.

“Come here,” he commands.

My skin heats, my heart jumps, and my pulse quickens. I take the steps toward him. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Ruben cups my cheek and strokes his thumb across my heated skin. “Never apologize to me.” His thumb skims across my lower lip, and I close my eyes, leaning into his gentle touch.

“I don’t deserve this,” I say as I bring my hand up to hold his in place.

“You deserve the world, Amorina.” I swallow the nerves and try to steady my erratic breathing. “Open your eyes,” he demands. I take another breath before opening my eyes. He tilts my head up and I stare into his deliciously dark eyes. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

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