Page 105

“Everything okay in here?” Alessio’s voice carries into the bathroom as he steps inside.

“A little privacy!” I yell, scrambling to cover myself. Futile attempt, but I still try, slipping off the edge and into the tub, crossing my arms over my chest.

The water is running, but I left the drain open, so it’s only a few inches deep. No way I’m risking getting my incision wet.

“I’ve seen every bit of your privacy,” Alessio says, completely unfazed, bending down to pick up both pieces of my razor. “Need help?”

I let out a laugh. “No, thanks. I’ll just have to embrace my natural side tonight.” I try to joke, even though I’m already internally cringing. “Besides, what do you know about shaving a woman’s legs?”

He smirks. “Well, nothing. But I shave my face almost daily. Same concept—remove the hair, don’t cut the skin. Walk in the park.”

Then he places the razor on the edge of the tub and unbuttons his pants, sliding them off along with his shirt.

My eyes widen. “What the hell are you doing?”

He ignores me and steps into the tub, still in his boxer briefs, and acts like this is completely normal.

I scoot back until my spine hits the other end of the tub. “Alessio—”

“Relax,Sirena,” he murmurs, crouching down in front of me. “Let me take care of you.”

Before I can argue, Alessio reaches for my leg and carefully extends it. He grabs the shaving cream and lathers my skin, which is so soft and gentle, though he looks anything but.

He picks up the razor, carefully shaving one leg, before he moves onto the next, rinsing the razor between strokes. He doesn’t cut me, not even once. When he’s done, he washes the blade, then grabs my aftershave gel, smoothing it over my legs. I think he’s enjoying this more than he should.

“Need anything else shaved?” Alessio asks, shamelessly letting his eyes drag between my legs.

I roll my eyes. “No, thanks,” I mutter, shifting slightly. I was able to shave that area easily, but I’m not telling him that.

It’s not that he hasn’t seen everything before, but right now, I feel self-conscious. Maybe it’s the massive wound across my stomach. Or perhaps it’s the fact that I know it will scar, leaving me with a permanent reminder of Ezra, the cousin I vaguely remember from my childhood, who turned out to be so evil.

Alessio steps out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist before grabbing another one. He comes back over, extending his hand to help me out, but I ignore it. Instead, I twist my body, angling myself so he can’t see my stomach, wincing as I stand. His arms are around me instantly, my back pressing against his chest as he steadies me.

“Please, let me help you,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.

The way he says it makes me melt into him. My legs press together because my kitty is purring for the big bad wolf again. And judging by the hard, pierced pecker, pressing against my back, I’m not the only one having a reaction.

“I’m fine, really,” I say, but he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t even pretend to believe me. Instead, he scoops me up effortlessly, stepping out of the tub and setting medown gently on the floor before wrapping a towel around me. His hands linger, his fingers brushing against my skin long enough to make my breath hitch. I need to get out of this bathroom before I do something stupid.

“When do we leave?” I ask, my voice coming out too fast and too eager. Because if I don’t break this weird tension between us, I might throw myself at him—stitches be damned, just to be his good girl again.

“An hour,” Alessio says, tucking a curl behind my ear, his fingers lingering like he’s thinking of a hundred different ways to fill that time. And I feel myself arching onto my toes, tilting my head just slightly about to kiss him.

“Liv?” Paola’s voice coming from my bedroom makes me snap back to reality, flattening my feet instantly.

Shit.

“I have your dress ready,” she calls.

I asked her to help me get ready, and she said she had the perfect dress in mind. She left earlier to pick it up, insisting she’d also help with my hair and makeup, which I wasn’t about to turn down.

Alessio steps back, his jaw tightening like he’s just been caught doing something he shouldn’t. We both turnas Paola steps into the bathroom and immediately freezes.

Her face pales, eyes wide as they go between us, both standing there in towels.

“Oh! Sir, I am so sorry,” Paola blurts, already backing toward the door like she just walked in on something X-rated, clutching the garment bag.

“It’s okay,” I reassure her quickly, but my cheeks are heating up. “He was just helping me, but he’s leaving now.”