Page 41 of Hostile Rival
“If they come out of her within the hour, take her outside and dump her with the others.”
17
MATHEUS
PRESENT
I don’t regret hooking up with Dani. Or hate how I’d enjoyed it. Like really fucking enjoyed it.
But the aftermath feels like I’m hungover. I’ve had to force distance and place my focus on training. It wouldn’t be long until my next mission, and failure isn’t an option. Never has been.
In order to be the best, I need to remove my head from my ass. One lapse of concentration could get me killed, and Mama’s heart would be broken.
It’s not easy sharing a room with a woman who’s caught my attention. At times, we’ve shared the odd glance in passing. When our eyes lock, my dick hardens, and my blood runs red-hot. Something tells me she feels the rush too, especially when her cheeks go pink, and she bites that soft bottom lip of hers.
Damn, she’s sexy.
The past few mornings I’ve rolled out of bed before dawn, left Dani sleeping on her side of the room, and spent time outdoors, alone––jogging on the beach, swimming in the sea, and liftingheavy weights. Anything to try to burn out my high-powered sex drive threatening to blow up in my face.
Before coming here, I was prepared to set all that aside since sex had become a chore. Now the urges are damn near eating me alive and my veins are constantly pumping.
Avoiding her doesn’t help when all I want is to move closer to her. To do it all over again. And knowing she’s in the bed across from me at night…well, fuck, I might need to cuff myself to the headboard soon––or her.
After my intense workout, I return to the villa to grab a shower. Given both of us have successfully ghosted each other for the last few days, it isn’t a surprise to find her bed made and my little firecracker nowhere to be seen.
My stomach still drops though, half hoping to find her naked and waiting for me.
I don’t like the tremor in my chest—as if something is shook up. Despite myself, I’ve stuck to a strict routine just like Giovanni would expect of me. Doesn’t mean I haven’t stopped thinking about her twenty-four seven or found myself wide awake at night, ignoring the ache and listening to her toss and turn.
Leaving the bathroom, I wrap a towel around my hips and wander through the bedroom. I know she’d slept here last night since I’d stayed up drinking whiskey in the lounge while I cleaned my revolver. When I finally climbed into bed, she pretended to be asleep. I’d detected the whites of her pretty eyes and sensed her heart thrumming—the tension fucking palpable.
Earlier, I pushed my physical limits and lifted heavier weights. Now I need to eat.
In the kitchen, Fintan sits by the window, his gaze fixed to the blue horizon, unmoving. I walk to the pantry, look inside and then move to the fridge, not sure what I want.
“Is there anyone else here?” I ask, making conversation.
“Just us,” he replies. “Your girl left with Oistin.”
My spine stiffens. “She’s not my girl.”
“Right.”
I frown, wondering if they’d left on a mission or whatever. “Where did they go?”
He shrugs, completely disinterested. “Don’t know, don’t care.”
Fuck this asshole.
Rather than make myself something to eat, I grab a bottle of water, kick the fridge door closed, and snatch a chocolate croissant from the counter.
Wound up, I march back to my room and check my phone. Nothing. No details. Why the hell didn’t Giovanni sendmeon a mission with her? I’m the guy who’s meant to stick to her ass.
I sit on the bed, wolf down my breakfast, and drain the water, all the while staring at her bed, my chest tight.
The phone buzzes next to me and my heart thuds. It’s my turn now. Except this time, when I read the message, it’s not what I had expected.
By the time I stroll into my brother André's huge Sicilian mansion, he’s charging through the echoey marble entrance hall wearing a pair of silk Gucci boxers and nothing else.
