Page 19 of When She Tempts (The Fallen)
“A little,” I lie. Pain? What pain? The only thing I’m aware off is the square inch of skin that burns beneath his thumb.
Suddenly, it’s gone. Giorgio stands and turns away from me. “You’ll be fine,” he says gruffly. “If you want, I can get you some ice.”
“Okay.” I pull up my shorts and let my shirt fall back down. “Thanks.”
He drags a palm over his face and then turns back to me, his expression guarded.
“I’m sorry for coming in,” I offer, gesturing at the room. “I thought you’d left. I couldn’t hear you moving around.”
“I was shaving.”
“Well, you’re a very quiet shaver.”
He gives me a look, as if to say,Good one, Martina. “I’ll give you a pass since you’re right, I should have told you about the dog.”
With his fist keeping his towel in place, he brushes past me. I clamp down on my bottom lip when his smell hits me—soap and aftershave. I shouldn’t, I know I shouldn’t, but I glance over my shoulder and take in that glorious back one more time.
God was exceptionally kind to him.
“Can I have my room back to change?” he asks without looking at me.
“Oh! Yes, of course.”
What is wrong with me?Heat crawls up my cheeks, and I hurry out of the room.
“Be downstairs for breakfast in fifteen minutes,” he calls out just as I’m about to close the door.
“Okay.”
Once the door is shut, I press my back against it and groan into my palms. That was mortifying. Did I really make him look at my damn tailbone?
With my heart still racing, I fly into the bathroom to take a cold shower—I need it.
CHAPTER6
MARTINA
Ten minutes later,after I manage to freeze the mortification and adrenaline out of me, I get out, comb my hair, and slap on a little blush to make me look less like a cast member ofThe Walking Dead. My clothes are still packed in the suitcases, so I grab whatever is on top—a pair of bootcut jeans and a soft yellow T-shirt. It’s not my cutest outfit, but it’ll do.
As soon as I exit my room, I hear voices and the clattering of dishes.
The thought of going down there to meet the staff makes me halt. There’s energy in the air, and it’s…daunting. I really don’t feel like socializing or making small talk with strangers.
For a moment, I consider disobeying Giorgio and hiding out in my room, but I don’t want him to think I’m embarrassed about this morning. Even though I am. But he can’t know that. I’d rather throw myself off that tower we drove past last night than reveal my crush on him. It’s so dumb. He’s a grown man, gorgeous, and infuriating,and I am not crazy enough to think he’d ever look at me that way. Even in my dreams, I wouldn’t allow myself to be so bold as to entertain the idea that he might ever see me as anything more than his future don’s little sister.
Plus, staying in my room won’t help me find my phone, and I need to get that thing back quickly.
I take a steadying breath and force myself to descend the steps.
Since I didn’t get more than a tiny glimpse of the castello last night, I can’t recall which way anything is, but I let my nose act as my compass.
It leads me right to what appears to be the dining room.
Giorgio is already at the head of a table that’s big enough to seat at least a dozen people. Standing beside him is a tiny, gray-haired woman, dressed in a dark, uniform-like dress.
“Tommaso was working on the bread since four am this morning,” she says to Giorgio. “He said last time you were here, you told him you liked it very much, but as I recall, it was actually the pecorino rolls that you enjoyed. His memory isn’t what it used to be. The man’s nearly seventy, even if he refuses to admit it.”
I halt in the entryway and observe them. Giorgio looks like he’s only half-listening, his nose buried in a newspaper, but that doesn’t seem to deter the woman.
