CHAPTER 170: CHAPTER 170 YOUR PIECES

*LORENZO*

I pulled over in front of a restaurant.

I felt hungry in spite of the cheese sandwich Magda made for me back at that house.

Danica is asleep. I waited for a moment to see if she’d wake now that the car had come to a standstill. Under the glow from the halogen lights in the car park, she looked serene and ethereal, the curve of her translucent cheeks, her dark lashes splayed out above them, and the stray lock of hair from her plait that curled beneath her chin. I contemplated letting her sleep but decided I couldn’t leave her alone in the car.

“Danica,” I whispered, and her name was a prayer. I was tempted to stroke her cheek, but I resisted and whispered her name once more. She woke with a gasp and a wide -eyed start, looking frantically around her. When her eyes met mine, she stilled.

“Hey. It’s me. You’ve been asleep. I want something to eat, and I need the loo. Do you want to come with me?”

She blinked several times, her long lashes fluttering over expressive but unfocused eyes.

She was gorgeous.

Rubbing her face, she looked around the car park, and her whole body suddenly tensed and radiated anxiety. “Please, Boss, don’t leave me here,” she said quietly.

“I’ve no intention of leaving you here. What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, paler now.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Outside, I stretched as she clambered out of the car and almost ran to my side, her eyes scanning the surroundings.

What happened?

I offered her my hand, and she grabbed it, holding tight. Then to my delight and surprise, she curled her other hand around my biceps and clung to me.

“You know, I was Lorenzo earlier,” I said, trying to make her smile. “I much prefer it to Boss.”

She flashed me an anxious look.

“Lorenzo,” she whispered, but her eyes darted all over the car park.

“Danica, you’re safe.” She looked doubtful. This will never do.

I turned around to face her.

I could bear no more. Overcome by what this young woman has braved, I fold her into my arms and hold her tightly. “I’ve got you,” I whispered, feeling raw and exposed and enraged on her behalf.

We stood for seconds, minutes, I don’t know how long, in the cold car park, and finally, tentatively, she wrapped her arms around me and relaxed into my hold, hugging me back. She fit perfectly in my arms. I could rest my chin on her head, should I so choose to. She looked up at me, and it’s as if she was

seeing me for the first time. Her dark eyes were intense. Full of questions. Full of promise.

My breath caught in my throat.

What was she thinking?

Her eyes moved to my lips, and she raised her head, her objective clear. “You want me to kiss you?” I asked.

She nodded.

Fuck.

I hesitated. I’ve vowed not to touch her. She closed her eyes, offering herself to me. And I couldn’t resist. I planted a soft, chaste kiss on her lips, and she melted against me with a moan.

It was a wake-up call to my libido. I groaned, staring down at her parted lips.

No.

Not now.

Not here.

Not after what she had been through.

I kissed her forehead. “Come on. Let’s eat.”

Surprised by my restraint and taking her hand, I led her into the building.

***********

Danica trailed beside Lorenzo, clinging to him while they cross the asphalt. She focused on his comforting embrace and tender kiss, not what happened the last time she was in a service station. She tightened her hold on him. He made her forget, and for that she was grateful. The doors to the concourse open, and they stepped into the building, but she halts, bringing them both to a stop.

The smell.

Oh God.

The smell. Fried food.

Sweet food.

Coffee.

Disinfectant.

Danica winced as she recalled being hustled to the restrooms. Not one bystander noticed her plight.

“Are you okay?” Lorenzo asked.

“I...I thought about it again,” she said.

He squeezed her hand. “I’ve got you,” he says. “Come on. I really need the lavatory.” He gave her a rueful smile.

Danica swallowed. “I do, too,” she said shyly, and followed him to the restrooms.

“Unfortunately, I can’t take you in there with me.” Lorenzo tilted his head at the entrance. “I’ll be right outside here when you come out, okay?” he said. “You go.”

Danica, reassured, took a deep breath and walks into the bathroom, giving him a last glance before she turned the corner.

There was no line for the stalls. Only two women, one older, one younger, were there, washing their hands at the basins. Neither of them looked tensed.

Danica chided herself.

What was she expecting?

The older lady, who must be at least fifty, turned to use the hand dryer, caught Danica’s eye, and smiles. Feeling encouraged and more confident, Danica headed into a cubicle.

When she exited, Lorenzo was there, leaning against the opposite wall, tall and muscular, one thumb hooked in the belt loop of his jeans. His hair was ruffled and messy, his vivid green eyes intense. He grinned when he saw her, his face lighting up like a child’s at New Year’s, and he held out his hand. Gladly, she took it.

The shop was a Starbucks; Danica recognized it.

Lorenzo ordered a double espresso for himself and, at her request, a hot chocolate.

“And what would you like to eat?” he asked.

“I am not hungry,” she replied.

He raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t have anything at Magda’s. I know you didn’t eat anything in my apartment.”

Danica frowned. She threw up her breakfast as well, but she isn’t about to tell him that. She shook her head. She was too upset by the day’s events to eat.

Lorenzo huffed in frustration and ordered a panini.

“Actually, make that two,” he said to the barista, giving Danica a sideways look.

“I’ll bring them over,” the barista replied, directing a coquettish smile at Lorenzo.

“We’d like them to go.” Lorenzo handed her a 50.

“Of course.” The barista batted her eyelashes at him.

“Great, thanks.” He didn’t return her smile but turned his attention to Danica.

“I have money,” Danica said.

Lorenzo rolled his eyes. “I’ve got this.”

They moved to the end of the counter to wait for their order. Danica wondered what she will do about money. She had a little, but she needed what she had for a deposit on a room. Though he did say that he could find her a room.

Did he mean a room in his apartment? Or somewhere else?

She didn’t know. And she had no idea how long they will stay or where they were going or when she’ll be able to earn more cash.

She’d like to ask him, but it was not her place to question him.

“Hey, don’t worry about money,” Lorenzo said. “I...”

“Don’t. Please.” His expression was serious.

He was generous. Once again Danica wondered what he did for a living. He has the big apartment, cars. He organized the security for Magda.

Was he a composer? Do composers make a lot of money? She didn’t know.

“I can see your brain working from here. What is it? Ask me? I don’t bite,” Lorenzo let out.

“I want to know what your job is.”

“What I do for a living?” Lorenzo smiled.

“Are you a composer?”

He laughed. “Sometimes.”

“I thought that’s what you did. I liked your pieces.”

“You did?” His smile broadened, but he looked a little embarrassed.