CHAPTER 176: CHAPTER 176 THE SEA

*LORENZO*

Shit!

Reaching forward, I brushed my thumb against her pouty bottom lip. She inhaled sharply. “I want you, Danica. Very much. But I want you to want me, too. I think we need to get to know each other before we take whatever this is any further.”

There. That was the grown-up response. Yes?

“Okay,” she whispered, but she looked uncertain, and possibly a little disappointed.

What did she expect of me?

And I knew I needed to put some distance between us to think about this. Here in my bed she was a distraction, a pouting, soft-lipped, and beautiful distraction.

I sat up and cupped her face in my hands.

“Let’s just enjoy this holiday,” I murmured, kissed her, and clambered out of bed.

Now was not the time. It was not fair to her. And it was not fair to me.

“Are you leaving?” Danica asked as she sat up in bed. Her hair tumbled down around her small frame like a veil. Her eyes were round with concern; she looked effortlessly sexy, swamped in my pajama shirt.

“I’m going to have a shower, then cook us breakfast.”

“You can cook?”

I laughed at her shock. “Yeah. Well, I can cook bacon and eggs.” I gave her a sheepish smile and strode into the bathroom.

Fuck!

More self-abuse in the shower.

Water streamed over my body, and with one hand spread on the marble tiles supporting me, I came quickly, thinking of her hand on my stomach and her hand wrapped around my dick.

A virgin.

I frowned. Why am I making such a big deal of this? At least she wasn’t brutalized by that fucker. Anger flared in my gut as I think of the men coming after her. She was safe here. So that was something.

And Tom was helping me find strong evidence to send them to jail for good.

Still, I felt bothered by the thought that she was a virgin.

This was not what I had in mind when I brought her down here. Her inexperience is an issue. I like sexually adventurous women who knew what they were doing, knew what they wanted, and knew their limits.

Breaking in a virgin was a big responsibility. I towel-dried my hair.

It was a tough job, but someone had to do it. Might as well be me.

I stared at the cad in the mirror.

Dude. Grow up.

Maybe she wanted a long-term relationship.

I’ve had two relationships, but neither of them for longer than eight months. So not that long.

Charlotte was socially ambitious, and she moved on to a baronet from Essex. Arabella was too into drugs for my liking. I mean, who didn’t like a bump now and then, but every day? No way. I knew she was in rehab again.

A relationship with Danica. What would that entail?

I was getting way ahead of myself here.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I headed back into the bedroom. She was gone.

Fuck. My heart rate doubled.

Had she fled? Again?

I knocked on the door of her room. No reply. I entered, and I was relieved to hear the shower.

For fuck’s sake, get a grip.

I left her and go to get dressed.

******

Danica didn’t think she’d ever leave this shower.

At Magda’s, the shower was over the bath. This shower had its own enclosed space, and the hot water cascades over her from the biggest showerhead she had ever seen.

Even bigger than the one in Lorenzo’s bathroom at his apartment. It was blissful and like nothing she had experienced before. She washed her hair and carefully shaved her body with the disposable razor Magda gave her.

She scrubbed herself with the body wash she had. Her soapy hand moved over her breasts, and she closed her eyes.

I want you, Danica. Very much.

He wanted her.

Her hand moved down.

And in her mind it was his hand on her body. Touching her. Intimately. She wanted him, too.

She recalled waking up in his arms and feeling the warmth and strength of his body against her skin.

Her belly fluttered at the memory as her hand moves. Faster. Faster. And faster. She leaned against the warmed tiles. And raised her head. Her mouth open as she gulped in air.

Lorenzo.

Ah.

Her muscles clenched deep inside as she came. Catching her breath, she opened her eyes.

This was what she wanted...wasn’t it? Could she trust him?

Yes.

He had done nothing to shake the trust she had placed in him. Last night, he rescued her from her night terrors, he was kind and gentle. He let her sleep with him to keep her nightmares away.

She felt safe with him.

She hadn’t felt safe for so long. It was a novel feeling, even though she knows that Julio was still out there somewhere looking for her.

No. Do not think about him.

She wished she knew more about men. But the only things the sisters told her was to be very careful of men.

And she thought all men were evil because of what Julio almost did to her.

But it seemed that Lorenzo wasn’t evil.

She ran her hands through her hair.

Lorenzo was not like any man she had ever known.

With the water pouring onto her face, she resolved to put all her problems out of her mind. Today, as he said, it was a holiday. Her first.

Wrapping her hair in a towel and her body in a bath sheet, she padded into the bedroom. A pounding beat is coming from downstairs. She listened. The music seemed at odds with what she knew about him. His compositions suggest a quieter, more introspective man than the one blasting this loud music through the house.

She laid out her clothes on the bed. All of them, with the exception of her jeans and bra, had been given to her by Magda and John.

She frowned, wishing she had something more attractive to wear. She slipped on an off-white, long-sleeved T-shirt to wear over her jeans. It was a little shapeless, but it will have to do. It was all she had.

Towel-drying, then brushing out her hair, she left it loose and heads downstairs.

Through the glass wall surrounding the staircase, she watched Lorenzo in the kitchen. He was wearing a pale gray sweater and the ripped black jeans and had a tea towel draped over his shoulder while he stood at the stove.

He was frying bacon, the aroma was delicious, and he was shuffling to the beat of the dance music that was thumping through the room.

Danica could not help but grin. While cleaning his apartment, she had never seen any evidence that he could cook.

She was even told cooking was mainly for women.

So she never really thought men liked to cook.

Or dance while cooking.

The flex of his broad shoulders, the swivel of his slim hips, and his bare feet tapping in perfect time to the music were mesmerizing. She felt a delicious tightening in her belly.

He raked his fingers through his damp hair and then flipped the bacon. Her mouth watered.

Mmm...the smell.

Mmm...the sight of him.

He turned suddenly, and his face light up when he saw her on the stairs. His enormous smile mirrored hers.

“One egg or two?” he shouted above the music.

“One,” she mouthed as she comes down the stairs and into the big room. She turned and gasped as she looked out through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The sea!

“The sea!” she squealed, sprinting to the glass wall of doors that led onto the balcony.