Chapter 5
Sienna Luciano
My nerves refuse to settle as cool air brushes over my exposed shoulder and midriff, but the silence inside the pristine hotel room was too much, so I rushed out as quickly as I could.
I nearly cried at the sight of the big, soft, clean bed.
It’s been so long since I’ve slept somewhere comfortable, my bones ache.
I knew if I even sat on the edge of the mattress I would have fallen asleep, so I took a scorching hot shower, toweled dry, threw on Romeo’s massive clothes, finger combed my hair into a high ponytail, stuck my keycards into my pocket, and exited into the hall.
The temptation inside the room was too much.
The temptation out here is too much, too.
Romeo meets me halfway across the lobby and offers me his elbow. After a slight hesitation at the unexpected gentlemanly display, I slip my hand into the crook of his arm.
The name Romeo fits this mystery man too well.
Although he always carries a deadly air, sometimes he dons a playful, compelling charisma, and I have no idea how to process it.
It’s still more likely he’s after revenge for something my father did than that my uncle sent him, but he hasn’t hurt me, and I have no other option.
No way to contact Zio Mario or Valentina.
No phone or even phone numbers to call. Only forty dollars and the time, date, and location of their wedding.
As he leads me through the posh hotel entrance, I consider asking Romeo for their number, or to ask to speak with them over his phone, but what good would that do? If they intend to punish me, then I’d rather they do it in person, and what I have to say can’t be said over the phone.
The thought of hearing my ex-best friend and uncle’s voices full of disdain curdles my inside.
It may make me a coward, but cowards survive longer. I just need to make it to tomorrow so I can apologize. Whatever they decide from there will be my fate.
Romeo opens the car door for me. I duck into the backseat.
Unless my uncle forces me onto a plane, I’m never going back to San Francisco. I finally escaped my stepmother, and the moment I return, José will catch me. I’d rather die.
I flinch as Romeo’s massive body moves above me. He shrugs out of his suit coat, leans into the car, pulls me forward with a long arm braced behind my shoulders, and drapes his coat around me. Delicious, fragrant warmth surrounds my body. I swallow and scowl even as I clutch the lapels together.
“What’s this for?” I ask.
My caustic tone relays my distrust. After his hostility, teasing, and flirting, I can’t help but feel like he’s being nice because he wants something from me.
Nothing is ever free or safe in this world.
“You shivered.”
He shuts the door and leaves me to wallow in my embarrassment as he walks around the front of the car.
I keep my gaze out my window the entire ride, too afraid I won’t be able to keep my eyes off him if I look.
The glance I captured of him without his suit coat as he shut the door made my mouth water.
If he’s a friend of my uncle’s, then the last thing I want to do is rock the boat by crossing that line.
I know what happens when women lust after men. I’ll never be free of the guilt writhing in my chest knowing it was my fault my father betrayed my uncle.
My head spins as Romeo opens my door and offers to help me out. He rolled his shirt sleeves. Tattoos cover his powerful forearms. Warmth throbs low in my belly, and my mouth waters with the urge to sink my teeth into his flesh.
I swallow my excess saliva and slide my hand into his. A shiver runs down my spine as his roughened digits close around mine.
He leads me into the fancy little boutique. Although one attendant seems neutral, the other two ladies behind the counter sneer at me when Romeo turns away. As the nonjudgemental woman ushers us down the hall, my ears burn from the others’ whispered gossip.
My steps falter when we enter a small room with a rack of men’s clothing on one side and another on the other side with women’s dresses. Although privacy screens create two separate changing areas in the back, the thought of undressing in the same room as Romeo is too much.
The tiny stage with three-sixty mirrors and sitting area at the front of the room create a cozy, intimate space.
I open my mouth to request a separate room, but when I turn around, all I see is the woman’s heel disappearing through the curtain.
At least there isn’t a door. I can call out at any time and someone will come running. Right?
Uncertainty jangles along my nerves.
Romeo tugs me over to the rack of dresses and flings an arm over my shoulders before looking through the selection. I stand with my heart in my throat as he slides the hangers across the rack.
He grabs four dresses and hauls me over to the nearest changing area. When he drops his hand off my shoulders and begins transferring dresses to the wall hooks, I grab one and shove it back toward him.
“No strapless,” I say.
Ice-cold fury shines from his eyes. Terror steals my breath. My heart pounds in my throat.
For a split second, I know without a doubt he’s after me for revenge. Whatever my father did passed him off so much he’s willing to play whatever game this is.
Despite my horror, I don’t shrink back. I stand frozen like a petulant, spoiled princess caught in the spotlight of his glare. There are a million nicer, easier ways to communicate my preferences, but instead, I tilt my chin higher and lift my brow.
The ease with which he tucks away his anger and dons his charm frightens and intrigues me. Part of me envies him for his control.
“As you wish, bambolina,” he says.
He hides it well, but a sliver of mockery creeps into his tone. Instincts scream for me to run. He wants to hurt me. I won’t survive a brutal, powerful man like him.
But he hasn’t hurt me yet.
He said my uncle sent him to deliver me safely to his wedding, which means Valentina and Zio Mario probably want him to treat me well, at least for now, so they can punish me first.
When he takes the dress from me and steps around the partition, I slump and breathe a silent sigh of relief. He returns. I jerk upright. He adds two more dresses to the wall hooks before smirking and disappearing.
I track his movements through sound. Hangers sliding along the rack. Fabric rustling. His heels clicking against the floor.
My mouth dries as Romeo’s silhouette appears on the divider. He unbuttons and shrugs out of his shirt.
“Do you need help?”
His low, rich voice breaks my stupor. I reach for the nearest dress.
“No. I’m fine,” I reply.
Embarrassment warms my face as my breathy voice betrays me.
I pull the dress off the hanger, but half my attention remains on the divider. Desire curls through me as Romeo continues to undress, his smooth movements full of leashed power, and I stumble when he shucks his trousers down his legs.
He pauses. I peel my stare off the privacy screen and change into the dress as quickly as possible.
After pulling the zipper all the way up, I glance down and huff as I realize I need to take my bra off.
Already exhausted, I manage to lower the zipper halfway before my shoulder cramps.
Instead of asking for help, I unfasten my bra and work one arm out before the inside of the dress snags on the lace.
I curse.
A masculine chuckle sounds from behind me. The hairs on my nape stand on end. I cant move as emotions bombard me. Roughened fingers brush against my back.
With gentle yet unrelenting hands, Romeo detangles the straps and reaches into my cleavage. Sparks sizzle straight to my nipples, hardening them in a rush as his knuckles brush against my sternum. He slips my bra free and lets the lace dangle from his finger.
I stare in disbelief, trapped in shock that he dared intrude when there was a real possibility of him seeing me naked. He knew I was changing yet he barged behind the partition without hesitation.
My brain clicks into gear. I grab for my bra, but he lifts it out if reach.
“I figured you were adventurous, but more along the lines of burgundy or a pretty pink. This?”
He leans down until his face fills my vision. The scar cutting through his eyebrow sits in high definition against his perfect features.
“This is unexpected. I like it,” he murmurs.
I snatch the fabric away from him and hide it behind my back. He doesn’t need to know the leopard print was the last one on the rack and therefor heavily discounted.
“That’s rude and you’re being a creep. I didn’t ask for your help. This is my side of the partition. Get out.”
“You can come over to my side anytime, bambolina,” he suggests with a pointed glance over my shoulder. I shift to better hide my bra.
“What happened to not offending my uncle?” I challenge.
He hums and traces a fingertip along my jawline. Butterflies attack my stomach.
“Apologies, Sienna. You’re too much fun to tease when you’re flustered.”
“I’m not flustered, I’m upset. Get out,” I demand.
He wraps a hand around my wrist and tugs me after him. I curse and toss my bra onto my pile of clothes at the last second. He releases my wrist and lifts me onto the little stage by my hips. His long fingers almost span the entire circumference.
My reflection stuns me. The woman staring back at me is too vibrant and full of life to be the same person I’ve studied for the past twenty-three years.
I love everything about the dress.
“I’m not trying on any others. This one is perfect,” I whisper.
Romeo’s voice, a bit throatier than usual, sounds from the shoe rack near the front of the room.
“You should try on a few more.”
I shake my head but can’t pull my eyes away from my reflection.
“No. This one.”
“Whatever mia bambolina wants. Go ahead and change and we’ll head out for dinner.”
I nod and move my body while watching my reflection. I truly don’t know who the gorgeous woman wearing my dress is.
When the partition blocks my view of the stage mirror, I shift my gaze to the smaller mirror in the changing area. With reluctance, I unzip and step out of the dress.
The hanger isn’t on the wall hook. Suits hang where dresses should be. My heart leaps into my throat as I realize I went into Romeo’s side instead of mine. I hug the dress and spin around, terrified he followed me, but no one is there.
A masculine hand holding a bundle of clothes appears over the top of the partition. I snatch them free and mumble an apology.
He responds with a noncommittal grunt.
Halfway through fumbling into my clothes, I freeze.
Romeo now uses the other side of the partition which means he can see my silhouette as clearly as I could see his.
Mortification spears through me. I’m an idiot.
Romeo has now seen more of my body than any male ever has. I tell myself the heat coursing through my veins is pure embarrassment, but a part of me refuses to lie.
My body craves Romeo. I know nothing about him other than supposedly my uncle sent him to keep me safe until his wedding—even though most likely he’s after me as revenge against my father—but my body craves his.
He’s the first man to wake my lust, and I don’t even know his last name.
I’m so screwed.