Page 29

Ismile at her as she says my name and I watch as a million emotions flash over her face. Anger, fear, confusion and my favorite, lust. The hazed look in her eyes that I caused so many times for nearly two years. I wonder if she is remembering those moments now. Of us fucking all over my house. Against the front door, on the dining room table, the couch, the study, the kitchen, the balcony, the shower. We fucked in every room of that house and on every surface. The thoughts sending blood straight to my dick, I have to will it to calm down.

“Did you miss me, doll?” I ask as I take her in. She is wearing one of those damn silk robes again and it causes memories to hit me all over again.

She blinks like she was lost in thought then a sassiness takes over. “What are you doing here?” Her voice is like venom.

I lift the fifteen-year-old Redbreast in my hand. “I heard you ordered room service and I couldn’t possibly let you have wine. I know where your taste truly lies.”

She pushes against my chest. “You can’t be here.”

I grab her wrists and walk her backward as I kick the door shut behind me and set the whiskey on a table. “And why is that, doll?”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Nice to see things haven’t changed.”

She struggles against my hold. “I mean it, Kilian, you have to leave before…” She trails off.

“Before what?”

She shakes her head.

I hold both wrists with one hand then grab her hip with the other, walking her backward until she hits a wall. I can’t help but lean in, placing my nose in her neck, smelling her. My favorite smell in the world.

She freezes at my touch and I feel her heart rate picking up. “Before your uncle finds out I came to visit you?”

I pull back just as her eyes go wide. “What… how… that’s not—”

“I saw you drop off that envelope in the bar. And I saw the man that sat down ten seconds later to pick it up. What are you up to, Mirabella?”

She pinches her eyes shut and I feel the fight go out of her. I let her go but lean my hands on either side of her head. “Tell me.”

She shakes her head and I see tears fall down her cheeks. I can’t help but comfort her. My hand goes to her jaw. “Bella,” I whisper, lifting her chin up so she has to look at me.

She opens her eyes and I see them filled with sorrow. I quickly brush away her tears, the moment intimate but it doesn’t feel wrong or foreign. It feels like us, like what we became before she disappeared.

“I know who you are.”

She visibly swallows.

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

She takes a deep breath. “How did you know I was here?”

I let go of her knowing she isn’t going to do anything rash, like throw a knife at me, although I am sure she has one somewhere in this hotel room. “I’ve had one of my men watching you since that night.”

She stays pinned against the wall. “Why?”

I back up and sit on the corner of her bed. “Because for some reason, I can’t get you out of my fucking head.” I pause as I look up at her. “And you lied to me. You said your brother wanted you in Venice. But you are Mirabella Renzetti. Your family is based out of Genoa.”

Her dark eyes stare into mine, the emotion she had earlier is gone, her eyes lifeless now. But I look at her fist and see it curling tightly into a ball.

“I want to know why you lied.”

“You said you weren’t here to hurt me.”

“I’m not,” I say as I lean back onto my palms.

“How did you find me in this hotel? How did you know—”