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I shrug because yeah, I do.
“It’s poker night with some of the boys. Every Sunday night we play,” he explains.
“Cute.”
Alessandro pinches his nose with his fingers as if talking to me is painful. “I’m going to regret this,” he mumbles as he moves away from me and grabs my suitcases. “Come on then, if this is how you want to play it, then let’s play, princess.” He grunts as he drags my suitcases over the driveway, up the stairs, and through the front door.
“So, where’s my room?” I ask as we enter.
Alessandro chuckles deeply. “Follow me, I’ve saved the best for you, princess.”
Condescending dick. But I continue to follow him through this ginormous home.
“The villa is set over five levels. There are eight bedrooms and eight bathrooms. I have a pool, plus a garden, which as you know, is rare here in the city,” he says, turning and grinning wildly at me as if I should be impressed.
I am. A pool is hard to find in the city. Usually, you have a home on the outskirts of Rome if you want one of those.
He heads toward a lift and presses the button to open the doors. Is he serious, a lift? Reluctantly, I get in, and I notice it’s small. I can smell his masculine cologne, and I hate that it does things to me. I inhale through my nose to try to clear his scent as I look him over. He’s dressed casually in a pair of gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt that is stretched across his broad chest, tanned, muscular arms tense as they hold onto my bags. I hate that I’m an arms girl, especially when he has good arms. I move my eyes up and take in his scruffy jaw—he looks like he hasn’t shaved all weekend.
“I’m assuming your family knows you’re here, or should I be expecting another visit from your brothers? he asks, breaking the silence between us as I follow him down a long corridor.
“They weren’t happy with me at all, but they know I’m here.” He nods. “Regarding my brothers, it could go either way,” I tell him.
“I’ll make sure to let security know.”
We arrive at a wooden door that I assume is my room. I was so lost in our conversation that I didn’t take notice of which way we went. I can see I’m going to get lost in this house.
“Here we are,” he says, grinning as he pushes the door open for me and I step into the room.
I still.
No. No. No.
It's masculine, with chocolate browns, gunmetal grays, and cream scattered throughout the room. I don’t have a problem with the interior design of the room, but I do have a problem with whose room it is.
“Absolutely not,” I say, shaking my head.
Alessandro chuckles behind me. “But I thought you said earlier that we needed to act like a married couple. Don’t married couples share a bed?”
He's not being serious, is he? Sharing a house is one thing, but a bed?
Those slate-green eyes sparkle with mischief. “Unless you don’t think you can keep your hands off me?”
“It’s you I’m worried about,” I bite back.
His brows pull together angrily. “I would never touch a woman against her will. Ever.” Guess that’s a relief. Then he leans forward. “But I’m sure you’ll be dying for me to touch you.” He smirks as he walks in and deposits my bags in his room before moving into his walk-in closet and pushing things around.
“I will never, ever touch you again,” I shout back at him.
All I hear is his laughter echoing from the closet.
Dick.
I look around the room and take it in. It’s nice, spacious, and has a balcony off it. I can see the twinkling lights of Rome. What a view. Can’t wait to see it in the sunshine.
“There should be enough space for you now. Let me know if you need any more. I have to head downstairs, the boys will be here soon,” he tells me.
“I told you I’m not staying in here.” It’s a weak protest because I know I’ve brought this on myself, but I still need to try.
