Page 60 of Hostile Secret
“Somewhere you’ll never visit.”
And just like that, his invisible but very present shutters slam me out all over again. He presses his fingertips against a wall mounted screen to grant us access through the double doors and straight into Blackwater’s kitchen.
“I have things to do this morning.” It's only when he announces the time of day that I notice rays of sunlight bursting in through the old leaded glass windows. I squint at the brightness.
“Get yourself something to eat. I asked Lola to make you a load of waffles. Letterman gave me his recipe. They’re in the fridge and there’s canned whipped cream somewhere.”
“You spoke to Letterman?”
“Yeah. He couldn't reach you, so he called me.” He drags a hand down his handsome face, tiredness tugging at his features. “I told him you were sleeping off a hangover.”
“Wonderful.”
His eyes narrow to meet mine for a brief second, and I imagine rising to my tiptoes to kiss him. That would be a silly schoolgirl move. Instead, I fold my arms and sigh heavily Before adding, “Now I’ll have to listen to André and Letterman lecturing me about it too.”
“I smoothed things over with them. Don’t worry about it.”
“Did you tell them you were punishing my mouth with your dick?” I quip.
With the sunlight pouring over his skin, he speaks to me in a low, confident tone. “I don’t tell anyone about my personal business, and you… you are my personal business now.” His eyes drill into my face. “Which means you’ll not speak about our arrangement either, or I’ll shoot you.”
“Don’t you think André would be pissed at you for killing his honorarykidsister? Not that I want to tell the world that I’m yourlittle whore.”
“He’s my twin and you're only mylittle whorewhen you’re begging for me to destroy you.”
I swallow to drown the crazy butterflies in my chest. The way he talks to me is downright filthy, and I love it.
“Well, your little whore isn’t on birth control. So there.” I smile sweetly at him.
Giovanni shrugs one sinewy shoulder and turns his back on me. “You will be soon enough.”
* * *
I wake up in the four-poster bed I’d crawled onto earlier and stretch out my aching limbs. After toasting a couple of waffles and demolishing them, I’d traipsed to my bedroom where Daenis was curled up on the bedspread. She didn’t need to wag her tail twice for me to run over and cuddle her.
The super soft mattress and contentment of having her next to me had sent me straight to sleep.
I’m still bone-tired, and the niggle of a recent finger fuck is one hundred percent deliciously real. Although I’m not sure what I enjoyed most—the act itself, the circumstances, or the man.
Deciding I can’t stay in bed all day and wanting to wash off my night in the cell, I roll over onto two slim parcels, immaculately wrapped in candy pink tissue paper.
It doesn’t take me long to slash them open, pinch the silken fabric, and hold the garments in the air. I frown at the midnight black shorts pajama set with matching robe, each of them exquisitely feminine.
I look around the room. I’m alone and these weren’t on the bed when I first came in. Or was I too tired to even notice?
Letting out the breath I’d been holding, I drape them over my forearm and enter the bathroom.
The floor is warm underfoot. The air smells earthy and sweet from the warm waxy leaves sprouting out of huge copper planters. It’s like a tropical hothouse.
I turn on the faucet over the tub and run the hot water, pouring in a eucalyptus bubble bath concentrate. Hanging the garments from a hanger on the wall, I wait for the foam to rise and stare at the sophisticated gift.
I’m used to wearing pastel pink shorts and cornflower blue button up shirts, not sexy pajamas.
“Why would Giovanni buy me silk pajamas?” Daenis’ ears prick when I talk to her. “It’s not like he’ll be around to see me wear them.”
Once the bubbles are high enough to cover my whole body, I get in and slip under the
surface, making sure my hair is submerged. I stay cocooned in the hush for as long as my lungs permit and exhale a gust when I finally emerge.
