Chapter Twenty-Six Ella
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ella
Predictably, the knock comes at exactly seven.
My stomach flips.
I smooth my hands over the moss-green wrap top and matching charcoal skirt before opening the door.
For a second, I just stare at Tiero.
If I could, I would fan myself. Why does this man have to look so irresistible?
Tonight, he’s in a dark gray suit, as always tailored to perfection. It molds to his shoulders, tapers at his waist, and skims his hips. It’s all clean lines and controlled power. My fingers itch with the urge to test the fabric, to see if it’s as smooth as it looks.
His gaze drags over me, slow and unapologetic. Heat flickers in his eyes.
“Wow,” he murmurs. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to look more ravishing.” His voice lowers. “You’re stunning, princess.”
Instead of going for my mouth, he leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead.
My brows lift slightly.
That’s it?
Then his scent reaches me. Warm. Masculine. Infuriatingly addictive.
My body betrays me instantly. I want to lean into him. To breathe him in.
When he pulls back, the restraint is gone from his eyes. The hunger is there, barely contained. My cheeks warm under the intensity of it.
He extends his hand. When I place mine in his, he doesn’t just guide me forward. He draws me in until there’s barely space between us and brushes his lips against mine. Soft. Intentional. A promise more than a kiss.
That’s more like it.
He doesn’t linger, though, and almost immediately withdraws.
I want to pout, but resist.
“Are you ready to experience Sicily’s finest dining?” he asks, offering a smile that could dismantle entire civilizations.
Good lord.
At this rate, I should’ve packed a spare pair of panties.
Still holding my hand, he leads me toward the elevator where Santino and another guard are waiting.
“Hello, Santino. It’s nice to see you again,” I say.
For a split second, he looks surprised that I address him directly.
“Likewise, Miss O’Neil,” he replies with a strong Italian accent. The faint curve of his mouth is the closest thing to a smile I’ve seen from him.
I turn to the other guard. “Hi. I’m Ella.”
He flushes slightly before introducing himself as Mauro. He’s built like the rest of them, broad and imposing, but younger. Late twenties, maybe.
Tiero glances down at me, faint amusement in his expression. He probably isn’t used to his dates greeting his staff.
But I was raised to acknowledge everyone. Titles mean nothing to me. No one is more or less worthy of respect. That lesson stuck.
We step into the elevator. The doors slide shut, enclosing us in a wall of muscle and cologne.
I suddenly feel very small.
Tiero’s thumb moves over the back of my hand in a slow, absent rhythm. The simple touch sends a ripple through me.
Will I ever stop reacting like this around him?
Three cars are parked in front of the hotel tonight.
Two black SUVs flank a black Ferrari.
Oh my god.
And not just any Ferrari. The latest 812 Superfast.
It is hands down the sexiest car I’ve ever seen.
“Are we driving in that?” I ask, already grinning, pointing shamelessly at it.
Tiero’s smile widens. “We are. Do you approve?”
Do I approve?
I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and peppering his jaw with kisses. “This is insane. I love it.”
He laughs softly and guides me to the passenger side, opening the door like a gentleman. I slide into the leather seat. It hugs me instantly, supple and perfectly contoured. The interior is everything I imagined. Clean. Sleek. Impeccable craftsmanship.
God, I want to drive it.
Tiero settles behind the wheel, looking almost unfairly good in the driver’s seat of this machine. A reckless urge flashes through me. I want to crawl into his lap and kiss him senseless.
But since the guards are watching, I restrain myself and settle for a grin.
“Can I drive?” I ask. “Please say yes.”
He studies me for a moment, amused. “On the way back.”
I clap my hands once, unable to help myself. Holy shit. I’m going to drive the fastest Ferrari money can buy.
The engine roars to life, then settles into a deep, powerful purr. The SUVs start up as well, one pulling ahead, the other sliding in behind us. Our procession moves smoothly into the evening traffic.
“I can’t believe you own one of these,” I say, running my fingers lightly over the dashboard. “I’ve never been in a V12 before. Even Formula One cars only run eight cylinders.”
“After what you told me the other day, I figured you’d appreciate it.”
“Appreciate is an understatement.”
“Did your grandfather teach you about car mechanics?”
“Yes. The basics at least. If a car breaks down, there’s a decent chance I can get it running again.” I can’t help the pride in my voice. Those lessons saved Rhia and me more than once on road trips.
Conversation flows easily after that. Between the engine’s growl and our laughter, the drive feels shorter than it should.
I barely register where we are until the car slows, turning through tall iron gates. We glide up a long driveway and come to a stop in front of a sprawling villa lit softly against the darkening sky.
A valet opens my door. Tiero tosses him the keys without hesitation and takes my elbow, guiding me up the steps.
Six security guards immediately fan out around us, scanning the perimeter.
It still feels surreal to be surrounded like this.
To him, it’s just another night.
How does he ever relax under constant watch?
The ma?tre d’ greets us at the entrance and guides us down a side corridor, gesturing toward a private elevator. Santino and Mauro follow while the remaining guards position themselves near the door.
I only catch a glimpse of the main dining room. It’s elegant, all black and white with understated luxury. A grand piano sits on a raised platform in the center, soft music drifting through the air.
Why aren’t we dining in there? It looks beautiful.
The elevator doors slide shut. Tiero glances down at me, a knowing smile tugging at his mouth.
I lift a brow silently.
He chuckles. “Patience, princess. You’ll see.”
The elevator dings. Santino and Mauro step out first, sweeping the area with efficient precision. We wait inside until Santino gives a small nod.
Then we step out.
I stop cold.
For a moment, I can’t process what I’m seeing.
The rooftop is illuminated by hundreds of candles. Their flames flicker against the night sky, casting everything in golden light. Above us, the stars glitter like they’ve been arranged to complement the scene.
My breath leaves me slowly.
In the center sits a single table for two. Flowering trees in oversized barrels surround it, fairy lights woven through their branches. It feels less like a restaurant and more like an enchanted garden suspended above the world.
Soft classical music floats through the air. But not from speakers.
My gaze drifts toward the far end of the rooftop where a string duet plays behind a partition, hidden from view of our table.
Of course he arranged it like this.
Tiero thought of everything to ensure our privacy.
A charged flutter settles low in my core.
“I… don’t even know what to say,” I admit quietly. “It’s incredible. Why isn’t anyone else dining up here? This is so much more beautiful than downstairs.”
“It usually is full,” Tiero replies calmly. “Dining under the stars is popular.” His eyes darken. “But tonight, I wanted you to myself.”
He brushes a kiss over my lips, and I blush crimson on cue.
“You reserved the entire rooftop?” I ask, stunned and a little breathless.
He nods and pulls out my chair.
I lower myself into it. It must have cost him a fortune.
No one has ever done anything like this for me.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I say softly as he takes the seat beside me.
He reaches for my hand and presses his lips against my knuckles. The simple touch makes my pulse jump.
“You are a very special woman,” he says quietly. “You deserve the best.”
My throat dries instantly. I reach for my water glass and drink half of it in one go.
It’s becoming painfully obvious that this isn’t just dinner.
He’s here to seduce.
How long can I hold out against this kind of deliberate charm?