Page 20 of Aaron

His soft laugh does weird things to my insides. “There is, but I’m still not putting you down. I enjoy having you in my arms.”

Adrian shakes his head as he passes us and climbs the steps to the large wraparound porch, still muttering to himself. As we join him, he asks, “Where are we putting her?”

The two men stare at each other, as if they’re having a conversation I’m not privy to. Finally, Aaron replies, “With me. But first, I’m going to get her something to eat. When was the last time you ate, Cheri?”

“I’m fine. I just want to make sure Jac is okay. Then I’ll head to my room.” Before I even finish saying the words, my stomach lets out a loud growl that’s impossible to miss. Fuck my life.

“Princess, what did I say about lying to me?” Aaron’s raised eyebrow and pinched expression don’t bode well for me.

“Umm, that there’d be consequences?”

Adrian laughs. “Oh, as much as I’d love to see this, you can’t. She’s right, she’s not yours—yet. Besides, she hasn’t given her consent.”

“Again, bro, no one asked you. Isn’t it time you went home?”

I blow out a breath as Aaron turns his displeasure to his brother. Somehow, I know it’s only a temporary reprieve, though.

“It should be, but I need to save you from yourself. If this is really Jaclyn’s roommate, you might want to think twice about what you’re thinking. She is one of the Santini family and has four older brothers. I doubt they’ll take kindly to you spanking their sister or washing her mouth out for lying.”

“What? Wait. Dammit. Put me down, will you?” To my utter surprise, he does, but he stays close. I point my finger at Aaron. “You definitely aren’t spanking me.” Then I turn to his brother, eyes narrowing. I tuck my hair behind my ear. “How do you know about my family—my brothers? I know Jaclyn didn’t tell you.”

“Seriously? I’m head of security for our family and our business. With everything happening, do you honestly think we wouldn’t run a complete background investigation on Jaclyn? Especially since Andrew was going to marry her? You can’t tell me your family hasn’t done the same thing—and probably more.” Adrian glances at me and his brother, then opens the front door, gesturing for us to go in. “We should take this inside. I don’t know about you,” he says, looking at his brother. “But I have questions. We know Jaclyn spoke to you earlier today, so why are you really here, Cheri, or should I call you Cherise? That’s your real name, right?”

Now I’m pissed. It’s not that I hide who I am, but my life in California with Jaclyn is Cheri the successful author, not Cherise the mafia-adjacent princess trying to escape an arranged marriage. Cavolo. When I think that, it sounds like a horrific fairy tale.

The look Aaron gives his brother would make my stomach curl in on itself, but Adrian ignores him as he leans against the side of the house. I’m not putting myself in the middle of that; I’ve seen firsthand how things escalate between my own brothers. Instead, I follow Aaron through the doorway and step inside my dream home. It’s enormous. An open floor plan—everything my family’s brownstone in New York isn’t. From the wall of windows and gorgeous natural wood floors to the high ceilings with exposed beams, it’s stunning. No wallpaper, carpet, or chandeliers in sight.

“C’mon, princess, you’ll have time to explore tomorrow. You need food before your stomach stages a revolution.” Aaron’s voice pulls my gaze toward where he’s standing in the kitchen island.

“Sorry.” I hate how he affects me—just the sound of his voice, and I want to do whatever he asks. This is bad. I’ve met lots of men in my life; my family does a lot of entertaining, but I’ve never reacted to anyone like this. And that kiss—whoa. I don’t even realize I’m rubbing my lips until I reach his side, and his right eyebrow rises to his hairline.

“Something wrong with your mouth, baby?” His smirk gives me the wiggles—those weird feelings that don’t really have an explanation, but if you know, you know.

Dropping my fingers to my side, I shake my head. “Nope, just thinking.”

“Uh-huh. Remember what I said about lying. You’ve already done it twice. I’m keeping track.”

I blink up at him, hearing his words but not sure what they mean. Is he threatening to discipline me? When my mouth opens to ask, one look at that eyebrow and I snap my lips shut. Nope, not going down that path.

“I’ll heat a plate of leftovers for you. Is there anything you’re allergic to?” he asks as he opens the refrigerator and grabs several containers, placing them on the counter.

“Um, no.”

“That didn’t sound very confident. Are you sure, or is that a guess?” He’s facing me again, holding a plate, waiting patiently for me to answer.

Merda. “I’m sure—no allergies that I know of.”

“Good. Anything you don’t like?”

Thankfully, he’s busy loading a plate without looking at me, so I can take a deep breath. “I don’t really like vegetables, especially orange ones. They’re yucky.” Cavolo. Yucky, Cheri?

“Yucky, huh? I’ll keep that in mind, princess. You’re lucky, no orange food tonight. Have a seat at the island. You can eat in here. What would you like to drink? We have sweet tea, water, juice, or wine.”

“Sweet tea? Oh em gee, after coffee that’s my favorite. I’ll have that, please.”

Doing as he asked, I pull out a chair and drag myself up to sit. Being short really sucks donkey balls in times like this. It’s obvious I’ve entered the giant zone.

Aaron slides the plate into the microwave and then pulls a pitcher of tea from the refrigerator. As he fills a glass, I swear he mumbles, “She’s perfect.”