Page 26 of When She Unravels
When I’m done with the rest of the room, I approach his desk. “I need to get behind your chair. Ras said there’s a cobweb.”
De Rossi scoots over just enough for me to squeeze by.
As I move past him, I inhale a lungful of his scent. As much as I hate to admit it, he smells incredible. Salt and sea and something smokey, as if he’d smoked a cigar earlier today.
I push that dangerous line of thinking away and get down on my knees. The cobweb is not nearly as bad as Ras had made it seem. I crawl forward to get a better look. There are two dead flies caught inside of it.
De Rossi clears his throat. I ignore him. Maybe he’s prepping his next biting remark. Wouldn’t want to interrupt his creative process.
I take down the web with a wet cloth. De Rossi’s polished leather shoe is in my line of sight, and he’s tapping it on his precious wood floor, probably spreading dirt he brought in from outside everywhere.
“Worried about something?” I ask him.
His foot stops. “Just considering how strange it is that you keep ending up on your knees around me.”
I resist the urge to slap his ankle with the cloth. “That’s what happens when my job is literally to be on the floor. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Is he looking at my ass? The thought that he might be makes me lick my lips. And arch my back.
De Rossi clears his throat and takes a loud bite of his stupid apple. I smile.
My little victory is cut short when I move to get up and instead end up falling back down on my butt.
“Ouch!” I wrap my palms around my calf. Goddamn charley horse. It must be all the physical labor this week.
“What happened?” De Rossi gets out of his seat and kneels beside me. “Are you hurt?”
“Spasm,” I grit out as I rub my tense muscles. Tears spring to my eyes.
“Let me see,” he demands.
“There’s nothing to see, I just need to work it out.”
“Stop being stubborn.”
The protest dies on my tongue when he wraps his big hands around my calf and smooths both of his thumbs down the back. He’s stronger than me, applies more pressure, and it feels so much better than whatever I was doing to myself. The sensation is enough to work a small moan out of me.
“How’s that?” he asks in a low tone.
“Better.”
“Hmm.”
I drop my head to rest against the edge of his desk while he keeps going. My lids lower. It’s hot today, and now that I’m not in motion, the tiredness sets in. De Rossi hadn’t been totally wrong about me when he deduced I hadn’t had to work a day in my life. Food, shelter, and money had always been a given. Not anymore. I’ve worked hard this week, harder than I’ve ever had to, and my body hasn’t had time to adjust to it yet.
He digs his fingers into just the right spot, and I bite my bottom lip to hold back another moan. A completely unwanted tendril of heat swirls in my core. I was attracted to him before he opened that cruel mouth—a fact I’d love to forget. This is De Rossi, for God’s sake. He saw someone in pain and decided to help out. It doesn’t change anything.
But when I crack open my lids, the look on his face makes sparks crackle across my skin. It’s downright wolfish. He meets my gaze and holds it. I suck in a breath.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” I whisper.
His fingers slow, his touch turns gentler. “You’re probably dehydrated.”
“A businessman and a doctor. How do you find the time?”
He drops his hands away from me and rises. A second later, I’m handed a bottle of water from his desk. “Drink this.”
I do because… Well, he’s probably right. I haven’t had anything to drink since this morning. I’ve forgotten how to take care of myself, and I’m still trying to remember.
