CHAPTER 175: CHAPTER 175 IN THE COLD

Danica gazed at her pale face in the mirror. Wide eyes with dark circles beneath them reflected back at her. Taking a deep breath, she shook off the remnants of her nightmare: she’d been back in Julio’s house.

But this time, as much as she tried to fight him off, he kept overpowering her.

She was alone.

In the dark.

In the cold.

She had almost given up until he appeared.

Lorenzo. Saving her again.

Her very own hero. He was making a habit of this.

And she was going to sleep with him. He’d keep her nightmares at bay.

If the sisters found out, they would be disappointed, right?

She could visualize them fainting at the news that she was sleeping with a man. A man who was not her husband.

Don’t think about them.

For now, she was safe with Lorenzo. She struggled into the pj top, which was too big. She undid her braid, shook out her hair, then tried to tame it with her fingers but gave up.

Gathering her clothes under one arm, she opened the door.

Lorenzo’s room was larger and airier than the other bedroom. It was also off-white, but here the furniture was polished wood, matching the sleigh bed that dominated the room. He was standing on the far side of the bed, and his eyes widened as he studies her.

“There you are,” he said, his voice husky. “I was wondering if I should send a search party.”

Her gaze drifted from his startling green eyes to the tattoo on his arm. She had only glimpsed parts of it before, but even from across the room she could see the design.

A two-headed eagle.

“What?” He followed her stare and looks down at his tattoo. “Oh. This,” he said. “It’s a folly of youth.” He sounded a little embarrassed, and he frowned, seemingly puzzled by her keen interest.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the ink as she walked toward him. He raised his elbow so she could have a better look.

Inscribed across his biceps was a black shield bearing the image of an ivory two-headed eagle hovering over five yellow circles that are in the shape of an inverted V.

Danica placed her clothes on the footstool at the end of the bed and raised her hand to touch his arm, glancing at Lorenzo for permission.

***********

*LORENZO*

I held my breath as she traced the outline of my tattoo, her finger skirting across my skin, her light touch echoing through my body, toward my groin, and I suppressed a groan.

“Did it hurt?”

I grimaced. “I could endure the pain. Are you interested in getting one?”

I gritted my teeth. I was not sure how long I could bear her touch without reciprocating.

“Not really. Why do you have this tattoo? What does it mean?” Alluring eyes peered up at me.

What could I say?

This was the shield from my family’s business’ logo.

I didn’t want to explain my family’s heraldry at three o’clock in the morning. And the truth was, I had the tattoo done to piss off my mother. She hated them...but of the family’s logo? How could she complain?

“Like I said, a youthful folly.” My eyes strayed from her eyes to her lips. I swallowed. “It’s too late to discuss this now. Let’s sleep.” I tossed back the quilt on the bed and step aside so that she could climb in.

She obliged, revealing long, slender legs beneath the pajama shirt that was way too big for her.

This was torture.

“What is this word ‘folly’?” she asked as I walked around the bed. She was propped herself up on her elbow, and her glorious dark hair fell in a riot of loose waves over her shoulders, past the contour of her breasts, and onto the bedding. She looked gorgeous, and I was going to have to keep my hands off her.

“Folly’ in this case means a foolish action,” I said as I joined her in bed. I almost snorted at the irony of my word definition.

If sleeping next to this beautiful girl wasn’t folly, I don’t know what is.

“Folly,” she whispered as she laid her head on the pillow. I dimmed the bedside light so it glowed in the darkness, but I didn’t switch it off, just in case she woke again.

“Yes. Folly.” I lie down and closed my eyes. “Go to sleep.”

“Good night,” she whispered, her voice soft and sweet. “And thank you.”

I groaned. This was going to be torture. I turned on my side, away from her, and started counting sheep.

*******

I was lying on the lawn near the towering stone wall that surrounded the kitchen garden at the mansion

The summer sun warmed my skin.

The scent from the lavender that rung the lawn and the sweet fragrance of the roses that climbed the wall wafted over me.

I was warm.

I was happy.

I was home.

A girlish laugh caught my attention.

I turned my head, drawn to the sound, but I was blinded by the sun and could see her only in outline. Her long, raven hair blew in the breeze, and she was swathed in a translucent blue housecoat. It billowed out around her slim silhouetted figure.

Danica.

The scent of the flowers intensified, and I closed my eyes to inhale their sweet, intoxicating perfume.

*******

When I opened them, she was gone.

I woke with a start. Morning was bleeding through the cracks between the blinds.

Danica had trespassed onto my side of the bed, and she was nestled under my arm, her hand balled in a fist on my abdomen, her head on my chest. Her leg intertwined with mine.

She was all over me.

And fast asleep.

And my cock was wide awake and rock hard.

“Oh, God,” I whispered, and brush my nose against her hair. Lavender and roses.

Intoxicating.

My heart rate flipped into overdrive as I make a mental list of all the possibilities this scenario presented. Danica was in my arms. Ready. Waiting. She was so tantalizing, so close...too close. If I rolled over, she’d be on her back, and I could finally bury myself in her. I stared up at the ceiling, praying for self-control.

I knew if I moved, she’d wake, so I tortured myself some more and lay still, enjoying the sweet, sweet agony of having her sprawled all over me. I gathered a lock of her hair between my fingers, surprised by how soft and silky it felt. She stirred, her fisted hand flexed, and her fingers splayed out on my belly, tickling the beginning of my pubic hair.

Fuck!

I was so hard and want nothing more than to grab her hand and wrap it around my erection. I’d probably explode if I do.

“Mmm,” she murmured. Her eyelids flicker open, and she looked dreamily up at me.

“Good morning, Danica.” I was breathless.

She gasped and scrambles to put some space between us.

“I was enjoying your visit to my side of the bed,” I teased.

She pulled the covers up to her chin, her cheeks rosy, her smile shy. “Good morning,” she says.

“Sleep well?” I asked as I rolled onto my side to face her.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Hungry?” I knew I was. And not for food.

She nodded.

I wanted to tell her that she looked very lovely this morning. But I refrained. I was behaving.

“I like sleeping with you,” she said, confounding me.

“Well, that makes two of us.”

“I did not have bad dreams.”

“Good. Me neither.”

She laughed, and I tried to recall the dream that woke me. All I knew was that she was part of it. As usual. “I dreamt about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure it was not a nightmare?” she teased.

I grinned. “Quite sure.”

She smiled. She had a bewitching smile. Perfect white teeth. Pink lips that were parted possibly in invitation. “You look very desirable.” The words come out of my mouth in an unguarded moment. Her deep brown eyes dilated, captivating me.

“Desirable?” Her breath caught.

“Yes.”

The silence stretched between us as we gazed at each other.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

I closed my eyes and swallow while her words from last night echo in my head.

I have never slept with a man.

“You’re a virgin?” I whispered, and open my eyes to study her face.

She blushed. “Yes.”

Her simple affirmation was like an ice bath to my libido.

I hadn’t slept with a virgin before.

She was still a virgin?

Of course she was. What did I expect?

She had grown up in an orphanage, sheltered for the most part of her life.

I didn’t know much about orphanages or how conservative they could be.

But she was different from every woman I had ever known. And she was looking at me all big eyes and expectation. I wondered again at the folly of bringing her here.

Danica frowned, anxiety etched on her face.