24. Pradas and the Pantheon
CHAPTER 24
PRADAS AND THE PANTHEON
I sabella
The first night in my new apartment in Rome was a success, despite the broody Italian in the adjoining room. But I refused to let Raf ruin my fun or my freedom. Tomorrow would be the first day of my internship and I vow to give it my all, which means today, I want to spend the day as a tourist, enjoying the historical sights.
I type out a quick reply to Serena and slide my phone into my back pocket. I’ve been texting with my cousin every day, but I have yet to tell her about the night at the hotel room. That feels like more of an in-person type conversation. She keeps promising to come visit, but we haven’t quite settled on a date.
“Are you ready yet?” I call out into the hallway. I swear the man takes longer to do his hair than I do. He’s been hogging the bathroom all morning. I guess it’s true that you never really know a person until you live with them.
The adjoining door in my bedroom pops open, and I nearly jump out of my skin. “Damn it, Raf!” I screech. “What if I’d been naked?”
“I saw that you were dressed when I walked past your room a few minutes ago. You really need to focus on that awareness of your surroundings issue we talked about.”
“I am aware. You just move like a damned jungle cat on the prowl.”
A flicker of amusement lights up his dark irises, and instantly, I’m transported to the night at the pensione . The way his eyes bled lust as they watched me. The night I’ve banished all memories of and forbidden myself to think about. Ever. It never happened.
Dealing with it any other way is just too embarrassing. Clearly, I must have been drunker than I thought. What else would possess me to do that in front of him ? Not to mention the fact I basically bribed him to do it. Any other man would have given into temptation and fucked me senseless, and I would’ve been drunk enough to go through with it. Then I really would’ve regretted the whole thing.
“Are you ready?” he asks, drawing me from thoughts that aren’t supposed to exist.
“Yup, I just need my shoes.”
“I’ve got that covered.” He pulls out a pair of red sneakers from behind his back. My eyes go ridiculously wide as they land on the Prada logo along the side.
“You bought me designer sneakers? But how?” My thoughts whirl back to yesterday as we settled into the apartment. He never left my side for a second.
“I ordered them online and had Sal go pick them up this morning.”
My heart staggers a beat, unexpected warmth filling my chest. My expression must show it because he runs his palm across the back of his nape, a rosy hue coating the warm caramel of his cheeks.
“It’s nothing, principessa . Don’t get all emotional or anything. I couldn’t be seen walking around Roma with you in those hideous things.” He ticks his head at my Hokas and all the warm and fuzzies vanish.
“Jackass,” I mutter.
“Well, if you don’t want them…” He hides the expensive shoes behind his back, and I lunge for him.
“I do want them!” I reach around him, encircling his waist as he steps back into his room. “Raf, give me the Pradas!”
“But I know how much you love those old, ratty things?—”
“Raf!” I leap at him, sending us both staggering backward. He must have hit the end of the bed because the next thing I know he’s falling and dragging me down with him.
We land in a heap atop the floral bedspread, my shiny, new sneakers trapped behind his back.
I pin the grinning bastardo to the mattress. “Hand them over.”
“Only if you say please.”
“Please, asshole.”
“In Italian and drop the asshole part, principessa .”
“ Per piacere .” I drag it out through my teeth, bastardizing the Italian with my best American accent.
He chuckles and lifts up, freeing my sneakers but also, rubbing his hard cock across my center. Heated, forbidden images of the night before flood my mind, and I freeze. He mutters a curse because he’s clearly felt it too before snapping my hair tie around his wrist which he’s commandeered as his new bracelet. And now I can’t keep my gaze from dropping between us to his ever-hardening dick.
Merda , this man isn’t human. How could anyone get turned on that quickly?
I scramble off and snatch my new Pradas before that heat pulsing at my apex reaches uncomfortable levels. He stands as I attempt to scurry back into the safety of my room, but steel bands lace around my bicep before I can get away.
“Wait.” He spins me around, hauling me so close our noses practically touch. His musky, amber scent envelops me, forcing another round of memories from the hotel back to the surface. “Maybe we should talk about the other night…”
“No!” I squeal.
“Why not?”
“Nothing happened,” I grind out.
His eyes flash, something unreadable streaking through the dark abyss. “Fine,” he growls an endless moment later, and his fingers unravel from my arm.
“Now, let’s just go for that walk, okay?”
He nods, and I skitter out of his room like a kid who got caught stealing candy from the grocery store. Why oh, why did I think getting drunk with my psycho bodyguard was a good idea?
The pitter-patter of cobblestones echoes beneath the soles of my new sneakers as Raf steers me down one of Rome’s narrower streets, his hand light on my elbow. I can’t decide if it’s more to guide or guard, but either way, it chafes. Especially after that unfinished conversation I refuse to revisit.
“There,” Raf says, nodding towards the Pantheon with its massive columns and domed roof standing proud against the sky. “Built by Emperor Hadrian around 126 AD. Originally a temple for all pagan gods.”
I arch an eyebrow, glancing at him. “A bodyguard and a tour guide, Raf? Is there no end to your talents?”
He gives me a small, almost imperceptible smile like he’s been doing all afternoon, the kind that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I did say full-service security in my resume, didn’t I?”
Laughing, I shake my head and let him lead me closer to the ancient building. “I’ll keep that in mind.” A whisper of heat streaks up my core at the full-service comment, but I shove it down and focus on the oculus overhead as we step inside. The sunlight streams through the circular opening, bathing the marble floors in a warm, golden light. “Imagine all the rain falling through there on stormy days.”
“It couldn’t have been pleasant. And still, did you know the great artist Raphael chose to be buried here because he was inspired by the beauty of the Pantheon? He said it was a fitting resting place for an artist.”
I roll my eyes. “You made that up.”
“Maybe,” Raf admits with a shrug, “or maybe I’m adding to your dramatic story quota for the day.”
I snort on a laugh. “The last thing I need is more drama in my life.”
After we’ve circled the room, he leads me out the doors, dodging the dozens of tourists milling around the ancient rotunda. We’ve been walking all day, the history unfolding at my fingertips—complex, rich and utterly captivating. Much like my guard. And still there’s so much left to see despite our speed-touring, so much about which I’m left wondering.
“The Trevi Fountain is next on our quick tour of the city.”
The day has been a whirlwind, and we haven’t even seen half the sights. We skipped the Colosseo and Vatican City because one could spend the entire day in either of those historical sites. Luckily, I’ll be here for three months, and I’m hoping I’ll have the chance for a little downtime.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, calling my attention to the unfamiliar Italian number. “ Pronto ?”
“ Ciao , Isabella, it’s Massimo.”
Raf raises a curious brow, leaning over my shoulder. I shove him off and move toward a quiet portico, away from the mass of tourists.
“Oh, yes, ciao, professore .”
“Please, just Massimo, remember?”
“Right, of course.”
“I just wanted to call and check in to make sure you were all settled in your new apartment?”
“Yes, it’s all worked out. Thank you so much for that last minute accommodation. I really appreciated it.”
“ Perfetto . I’m in the center of town now, would you like to meet for a caffè ? We can discuss your schedule before you start tomorrow.”
I hazard a glance at my overprotective bodyguard who looms dangerously beside me. Likely listening in on every word. “That would be great, thank you.”
“Where are you now?”
“Actually, walking toward the Trevi Fountain. I am spending the day enjoying the city.”
“Good for you, Isabella. There’s a café nearby where I could join you in about ten minutes. I’ll text you the address.”
“Great, see you then.” I slide the phone back into my pocket and meet a pair of inquisitive eyes.
“Coffee with the professor?” Raf’s dark brow arches.
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“No, not exactly. I’ve already had all the staff of the university and hospital that you may have any interaction with checked out.”
“Of course you did.” I barely suppress an eyeroll.
“But I would prefer these sorts of outings to be pre-arranged so that I have the opportunity to have the location swept before your arrival.”
“You’re insane,” I mumble as I pull out my phone. “Here’s the address. I’m sure you can send Papà’s goons ahead of us. I know they’ve been following us all day.”
The ghost of a smile lingers at the edges of his lips. “Good girl, you’ve been paying attention.”
Those two words and I’m back in that hotel room with his hand over mine as I finger-fuck myself into oblivion. Damn it . I squeeze my eyes closed, banishing the images, but when I finally open them, I meet pitch orbs and dilated pupils inches from my own. Clearly, I’m not the only one he’s triggered with those two seemingly innocuous words.
Raf clears his throat and wraps his fingers around my upper arm, gone is the light touch on my elbow. He wants to show everyone around us that he’s in charge, that I belong to him. The possessive hold is all at once infuriating and exciting. Because obviously, I’ve got issues.
A few minutes later, we arrive at the café, with the splish-splash of the iconic Trevi Fountain echoing just behind us. I make a mental note to come back so I can throw a penny in its mystical waters to be sure of a return to this magical city. Raf’s fingers are still bruising around my upper arm as he leads me inside. An attractive man seated in the back stands, waving, and my guard’s hold becomes punishing.
“ Ciao , Isabella, piacere .”
My professor strolls closer with a warm smile. Dirty blonde tendrils of hair flop over his forehead, brushing his chic glasses. He’s much younger than I imagined, probably around Raf’s age. “ Ciao , Massimo. Nice to meet you, too.” He leans in and offers the traditional Italian greeting of a kiss on each cheek, and I can practically feel my guard fuming beside me. If he were a cartoon character, there would be plumes of smoke rising from his nostrils and ears. For some reason, the visual makes me snicker.
Raf leaps between us, extending a hand. “And I’m Raffaele, Isabella’s bodyguard.” Massimo winces as my guard crushes his slender hand in his big rough one.
“Raf,” I hiss through clenched teeth.
“ Scusi . Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.” He finally releases him, and Massimo holds his battered hand to his chest.
“Not a problem,” he mutters. “Of course Signorina Valentino’s safety is of the utmost importance. Although, I am sure she will be perfectly secure here in Rome.” Then he signals toward the table for two in the back. “My apologies, I didn’t realize your guard would be escorting you.”
“That’s okay, he can stand.” I shoot Raf a narrowed glare as we approach the circular table. It’s the least punishment he deserves after nearly crushing the bones in my new professor’s hand. “Right, Raf?”
“As you wish, signorina .” He offers a savage smile before he pulls my chair out and plants himself behind it.
I settle into the seat and Massimo sits across from me, smiling pleasantly.
“You are going to love Roma, Isabella. I didn’t know you were interested in the historical sights. I’d be more than happy to have my assistant arrange for a tour, and I would be honored to accompany you myself.”
“Oh, thank you, that would be lovely.”
“Wonderful, it’s a date then.”
Raf’s hands curl around the back of my chair so his knuckles brush the exposed skin between the straps of my sundress. Again, that tension seeps from his pores clouding the air around me until it’s so thick I can’t breathe let alone focus on what Massimo’s saying.
Oh, merda , what did I get myself into?