AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Roman gritted his teeth, telling himself that she was drunk and didn’t know what she was doing. His dick didn’t know the difference, though. And it was hard enough to pound nails. He headed towards the elevator and his private floor. Level fifty-nine had been renovated to be one huge apartment. It spanned seventy square feet and had four bedrooms, five bathrooms, an office, and three common areas. He had an entire wing where his bedroom and office were, and he spent most of his time there. But one of the bedrooms, on the opposite side of the apartment, had its own living space and bathroom. That’s where he intended to put Angela.
“Look how good we look together.”
Roman’s eyes flew to hers in the mirrored elevator doors. She was staring at them, looking dreamy, wistful, and also a little scared. But he agreed with her; she looked fucking amazing in his arms. “I knew you would be trouble the moment I laid eyes on you,” he told her, kissing the top of her head.
“I knew the same,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s not the type of trouble I need or want.”
Remembering what he had just overhead, he questioned, “Are you sure about that? You seem to be pretty cozy with my crew.”
“Your crew isn’t you,” Angela said.
She nuzzled against the crook of his shoulder as the elevator doors opened and he walked directly into his apartment. He was sure she wasn’t aware of what she was doing, but his heart turned over in his chest, nonetheless. She was soft and warm and relaxed, and she felt like she was made to be in his arms. It sounded trite, and he would have scoffed had anyone else said the same thing. But he couldn’t help embracing the truth of it.
As he walked to the guest suite, Angela raised her head a little. “I don’t feel so good.”
He looked down to find her very pale. “Shit!” he exclaimed. “Don’t throw up on me.”
She took some deep breaths as he moved faster, opening the suite door, bypassing the living area, and depositing her on the bed. She hiccuped, covering her mouth with her hand. He left her for a moment, returning with a water bottle. She was right where he’d left her, with an arm thrown over her head to block out the light.
“Angel, drink some water,” he insisted.
“I like water,” Angela allowed, sitting up and guzzling half the bottle. “I also like your face. And your body. I especially like your cock and how it has its own little crown.”
Roman choked on his own spit, pressing his palm down hard on his erection. She was making it very difficult for him to remember that he was a gentleman. Even so, he was very tempted to question her about her past. It bugged him that nobody could find anything, and he wasn’t sure she would ever be at a point where she would volunteer the information. His chances were high, though, if he were to ask now.
He settled her against the pillows, taking her shoes off and covering her with the comforter. She let him tend to her, and he realized that three months ago it was something she would never have allowed. Hell, it was likely something she wouldn’t let anyone else do, even now. The implied trust meant he couldn’t break it. Whatever haunted her may be stopping her from being with him, but it wasn’t putting his family at risk. He decided he wouldn’t question her when her faculties were diminished.
But there was one thing he couldn’t help but ask before he left. “Do you want me, Angel?”
“Yes,” she admitted without hesitation. “More than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life. Which is exactly why I can’t have you. It makes you dangerous. More dangerous than any gun or knife.” She blinked sleepily, rolling onto her side and hugging the pillow. “Not to mention who you are. I know your type. I know what the pursuit of power can do. It changes a person, makes them selfish and careless. It causes them to betray.”
“I would never betray you, baby,” Roman promised, his throat thick. But Angela either didn’t hear him or didn’t care because she kept right on talking and breaking his heart.
“I’ve been betrayed by those I trusted the most.” She looked up at him through teary eyes. “It hurts so damn bad. Yes, I have fun with Luca and Salvatore, and Abel—the big oaf—is a good friend. But if they stopped being my friends, it would hurt, but I’d recover. I’d be fine. You, Roman, if I allow myself to like you, if I allow myself to want you, there’d be no turning back. And when it doesn’t work... because it won’t—very little in my life ever does—it would break me. It would break me in ways I don’t think I could recover from. I don’t understand it, but I know I don’t like it. So, you and I will never happen.”
She reached out a hand and Roman took it. “Do you understand what I’m saying?” Angela asked him.
Oh, Roman understood, all right. He understood all too well. “I understand,” he replied, kissing her palm. It was in that moment he decided he loved her and was able to admit it to himself. He loved her, and he was doomed because of it.
“Get some sleep, Angel,” he urged her.
Angela frowned, her bottom lip poking out in a pout. “I bet you say that to all the women, don’t you? And they just fall at your feet.”
Roman smiled because jealousy looked good on her. “To be honest, I rarely have to say anything to have women falling at my feet. Usually, a look is enough.”
“Brainless bitches,” Angela said with a sneer, her lids lowering once more.
“Quite so,” Roman agreed, looking at her with amusement and affection. “Nothing like you at all.”
“Right. Because I’m not brainless,” Angela declared. She blinked at him, frowning a little. “Heeeey... you have a chunk of vomit on your shirt. Was that me, do you think? Or was that you?”
He looked down, finding a piece of something unidentifiable on his shoulder, surrounded by dampness. “I’m thinking that was you.”
“Huh,” Angela commented. “Must have been that hiccup.” She paused, her creamy flesh turning green before his eyes. “I hate to tell you, but I don’t think this will be a hiccup.”
Before he could move, the only woman he knew he could ever love, barfed all over his Italian leather shoes.
CHAPTER TWENTY
