Page 17 of Ruin

He nodded toward the man who had exited the driver’s seat and was now patiently waiting for the SUV’s trunk to open, arms crossed. The tall, muscled, middle-aged man subtly smiled and bowed his head toward me. He looked more like a club bouncer than a driver.

I put my hands on my hips as my eyebrows raised. “What is it you said you do again?” I questioned him sternly.

Arik stepped closer as he dropped his head toward me. “I am in the wine business, just like you. Nothing illegal…I promise. I’m simply good at my job.”

I momentarily processed his response before scanning my surroundings and eyeing up the driver from head to toe.

I wasn’t getting Taken vibes.

I think if he wanted to do something malicious, he could have easily done it already.

The course gravel rolled under my chunky-heeled sandals as Arik opened the door for me and hoisted me into the seat, his hand gently placed on my lower back as I held onto the grab handles and pulled myself up.

As he closed the door, he smiled before letting out a playful, “Watch your fingers and toes!”

My eyes immediately rolled as he reminded me of my mother calling to my sister and me in the backseat of our station wagon back in the nineties.

Moments later, he was next to me once again. I watched him as he settled into his seat, buckled his seatbelt, and removed his sunglasses before looping them between the buttons of his shirt. He was so fucking gorgeous, but not in the usual way.

There was nothing predictable about his appeal, something dark and magnetic lingering beneath the surface, making it impossible to look away. Gorgeous in a villainous, ruin me way that made me lose my senses. Even the faint lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled deepened his allure, sending a flush to my cheeks every time he smiled at me.

I’m sure Sarah would refer to Arik as a Daddy. I always wondered what exactly made a man a Daddy, aside from fathering children.

But now, I know.

Arik is a Daddy. A dominant man, senior to me, who is charming and dangerously handsome. A man whose age only accentuates his attractiveness. A man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to take it.

I am utterly fucked. Figuratively…and, I hope, literally.

God knows I need it.

“You okay, love?” Arik asked in my direction, as I was pulled back into reality, completely unaware that my thirsty-ass was staring at him with my mouth open like a horned-up animal.

I stammered, “Oh. Sorry. I was deep in thought. Yeah…I’m fine.” I smoothed out my dress, pulling down the hem that had wandered to my mid-thigh like a mating call.

Arik smiled and blushed with obvious awareness of my thoughts. He looked…satisfied.

The SUV made its way down the long gravel road—olive trees and thick shrubbery flanking the way like silent guards as we passed through the golden gates of the winery. We turned toward town and picked up the pace as the SUV sped down the road, rows of fully ripened grapes flying by. I stared out the window, watching as all the colors bled together, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was in a car with this enigmatic man—in Italy, no less.

Arik’s attention shifted to my hand that was resting gently against the cold black leather in the empty space between us. He reached over, intertwining his fingers with mine once again. His touch sent a pleasant shiver through me that I had begun to miss over the last hour.

I turned my gaze from the rolling hills outside the window to his face, still puzzling over why he had stopped in the hotel room earlier in the day.

Who makes out and rolls around in bed like that, only to stop and suggest a trip to town?

Arik shifted closer to me, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding into the middle seat. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders while continuing to hold my hand with his other, creating an intimate cocoon of warmth and comfort between my body and his.

Just as I started to feel relaxed in his presence, my thoughts crept in. I couldn’t stop my mind from filling with thoughts about how this is probably some sex-crazed game for him. How he probably picks up women at the winery and hotel all the time. How he checks all the boxes for a single bachelor who is sexist and full of himself. How he called me “love” to trick me into believing he has feelings for me.

My heart quickened, and I suddenly felt very, very stupid. Not just for being here in this moment with him, but for opening up to him last night. I gave him every bit of information he needed to manipulate me and get my pants off.

Yet…he didn’t try to take my pants off.

Strange.

Arik cleared his throat and started to point out landmarks, sharing snippets of the village’s history as we drove. His knowledge was extensive, and he spoke with a genuine affection for the area that slowly eased my tension. It was like I had my own personal tour guide.

As the blue of the ocean started to peek through the hills, I found my shoulders dropping and my back settling inch by inch against his chest. I was melting into him and couldn’t seem to stop. His stories were engaging, and his passion for Calabria was infectious. I leaned my back into him, resting my head gently in the space between his shoulder and his neck—the steady rise and fall of his chest against me as my breath synced with his.