Page 22 of Tall, Dark, and Grumpy

8

VITO

The tension between us is a steel wire as we ride to my house. Dark shrouds the back of the car, with flickering yellow from the streetlights.

Now we’re alone, I’m kicking myself, because there’s no reason to fake, is there? I let go of her hand as we got into the car, and the chasm of thick black and silence between us makes it impossible to reach across and touch her again. To do so would be saying I deserve her, and I don’t.

I’ve returned to being her boss.

I’m old enough to be her father, I remind myself.

“I thought you were taking me home.” The whites of her eyes glint when we stop outside my London city residence and one of my men opens the door for her.

“We’re celebrating our engagement, aren’t we? Mustn’t have your friends thinking I’m not serious. I assumed you’d want to stay. Just tonight.” That sounds reasonable. Not at all like I’m obsessed with getting her into my house like I’m Beast stealing Beauty.

“Just for show, then?” she checks. “So my housemates don’t realise because I’ve gone straight home.”

A sound that could be agreement or denial comes from my throat as I lead her into the house. I tell myself I take her to my room because I know for sure that there are towels in the bathroom and clean sheets, and she’s tired and shouldn’t have to wait. I’m pretty sure the housekeeper keeps a dozen guest rooms pristine at all times, but I want her in my space. I’ll enjoy torturing myself with the image of the one time she was in my house.

“I thought you’d want to clean up,” I say as she looks around my bedroom. By sheer willpower I don’t add anything about helping her out of her wet clothes, or being happy to help her get dirty again. But I repeat the cheesy lines in my head.

I point out the ensuite. “There’s a shower, or bath. Just take whatever you need. Help yourself to anything from the wardrobe to sleep in.”

She snuggles into my suit jacket, pulling it tighter around her as though I might try to take it away. No chance. What’s mine is hers. Peeking up at me from beneath her lashes, she says, “Where will you be?”

“Downstairs in the lounge.” I’m too wired to sleep. “Good night.”

Then I practically run from the room. There’s only so much temptation a man can resist.

It takes a while to hear the report from the men I had with me tonight. Sev, it turns out, only gave the man who was harassing Cassie at the bar a scare, and ripped bits off him that will grow back. I instruct Tony to keep an eye on him and ensure if he pushes unwanted attention on a woman again, that will be the last time.

I feel very superior for not actually having him murdered. Perhaps I should join the London Mafia oo-but-we-don’t-kill-people-unless-we-have-to Syndicate, after all.

Eventually, I collapse onto a sofa in the lounge, the late summer night still not fully dark outside and I field a few obnoxious texts from Sev, and curious ones from my other triplet, Rafe, who is with his wife. She was his assistant, and now they have a baby on the way. Fucker. I’m not jealous of his happiness. Except, I am.

A beer sits on the table next to me, untouched, as I sit back and think about Cassie this evening. Of her sweet lips and her adorable laugh. She’s the only one I want.

There’s a little bird tap at the door, and a gorgeous brown-blonde head peeks around the frame. “Hello.”

She’s barefoot as she slips into the room, and wearing nothing but my pale blue shirt. My heart sticks in my throat. Like the suit jacket, seeing her in my clothes again is just as powerful as last time. Her legs are fabulous, and I can’t help but stare. Then I drag my gaze to her face and find she’s got hope in her eyes.

I don’t understand.

She tugs on the hem of the shirt. “Is this okay?”

My throat is drier than a houseplant without my staff.

“It’s longer than the dress I was wearing.” She smiles ruefully.

“Why are you down here, amore mio dolce?”

She presses her lips together and approaches, before curling onto the sofa next to me. “I was thinking in the shower.”

I watch her, even as my pulse ticks up along with the way my shirt has tugged up to reveal more of her biteable thigh.

“That’s the place where the best ideas happen.”

“Yes!” Her face lights. “That’s where I had this idea.”