“And watch you take a nosedive?” His cheek brushes my temple as he speaks next to my ear. “I don’t think so.”

“I won’t—”

A yelp escapes me when Rafael slides his other hand under my knees and lifts me into his arms. Since the moment he sat behind me, my heart has been beating double-time, but now, it feels like it’s going to explode. My awareness of him is so consuming that my mind blanks on everything else. I don’t even try arguing. We’re so close that I can feel his breath on my lips. At this distance, I can make out a little more of his face—the short stubble along his chin and the prominent eyebrows over his shaded eyes—but his overall features remain hidden, veiled by the night.

The scent of cypress and oranges tingles my nostrils as Rafael carries me up the uneven stone steps that lead to the mansion. Olive trees line the trail on either side, creating a natural canopy and a tunnel-like atmosphere over the winding path. Once in a while, moonlight breaks through the overhead branches and casts sharp angular shadows that dance across his face. With mere inches between us, I can feel every movement of his powerful frame. The vibrations send an electric current zipping through all of my cells directly to my spine.

And lower.

It shouldn’t feel this good, being snuggled into him like this. But it does. Maybe it’s the wine. I don’t feel that drunk, but I don’t see any other explanation for why I enjoy being held by him so much.

“If I say I’m sorry for being a shitty host, will you accept my gift?”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’ll certainly consider it. But you’d need to actually say it.”

A deep, thunderous roar fills the darkness as he laughs.

“I’m sorry for my insolence,” he says, amusement still lingering in his tone. “And for the treatment you received from my men. Hank has been sent back to Chicago, so he won’t bother you again.” These words carry none of the mirth of the earlier statement.

“Alone? What about his sidekick, Vinny?”

“Vinny . . . has been dismissed.”

“You fired him?”

“Mm-hmm. I guess you could say that.” He bends as we pass under one of the lower branches, and his cheek brushes my forehead. “I’ll have someone drive you to Taormina tomorrow so you can buy whatever clothes you need.” His cologne tingles my nostrils, but not in that irritating way that makes me want to sneeze. Oh no. It beckons me, urging me to get closer and take another sniff.

“Can’t you take me?” I blurt out.

Rafael halts. I can feel his chest rise and fall.

“I can,” he says, his voice sounding clipped as he resumes his stride. “But if you change your mind, I’ll have Otto drive you.”

“Why would I change my mind?”

He does not answer.

We emerge from the rock garden and approach the mansion across the immaculate lawn. There are no more trees around us, just fresh-smelling grass and fragrant flower beds, bathed in the soft light of the moon. Those lines on Rafael’s face which I thought were dancing shadows? They stay in place, despite the lack of branches above our heads.

Pebbles crunch under my feet, the tiny sounds fracture the silence around us, as I carry Vasilisa. I feel her eyes on my face as I ascend the terrace steps. The light above the French doors that lead inside the living room is on. The same for the interior of the house. No more shadows to hide within.

My gaze is fixed on the path before me, and I keep moving with measured strides. Will she scream or simply faint in my arms? Somehow I doubt my little hacker is a screamer, so I ready myself for her body going limp. I take that final step and halt directly under the light fixture.

Waiting.

A moment passes.

I take a deep breath.

Look down.

For a second, I’m taken aback by how beautiful she is up close. Two dark eyes focus on me through long silky lashes, skimming over my features just as mine did with hers. A couple of heartbeats is usually the longest it takes before people look away after seeing me. But Vasilisa takes her time, examining every jagged line of the mess that is my face. She doesn’t even bat an eye. Maybe she’s in shock.

Finally, her gaze meets mine.

“I could have sworn you were blond, Rafael.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “That’s it?”

“What?”

“Your reaction. You’re not going to scream?”

“Oh, it takes a lot more effort for a guy to make me scream.”

My cock is instantly hard. “Good to know.”

I resume carrying her through the house, up the stairs—all with the most epic hard-on I’ve had in ages. When I reach my bedroom, I stop outside and gently lower her to the floor.

“Otto will be waiting for you at ten to take you over to Taormina to shop tomorrow. Get anything you want, don’t look at the prices.”

“Can I get my T-shirt and jeans back for the occasion? I’m sure the salespeople will throw me out if I walk in wearing your shirt and nothing else.”

I lean slightly forward. “Don’t worry about that.”

“If you say so.” She tilts her head to the side, simply looking at me for a couple of moments, then adds. “And I haven’t changed my mind.”

In less than a second, she disappears into the room.

I stare at the door for a few heartbeats, then turn on my heel and head downstairs, directly to the east wing. When I step inside Guido’s apartment, he’s just leaving his bathroom, toweling his hair.

“We had a situation in Marseille,” he says, walking toward his closet. “I tried calling you, but you weren’t answering your phone.”

I grab the back of his neck and plaster him face-first to the closet door. “What did you say to her?”

“I guess I don’t have to ask who ‘her’ is?” he mumbles into the wooden surface.

“Answer me!”

“She’s going to get you killed! I don’t get this crazy obsession you’ve developed for this girl, but when Petrov finds out, he’ll fry you!”

“What I do with my life is none of your fucking business!” I tighten my grip on his neck and lean to whisper in his ear. “If you ever upset her again, you won’t like the consequences.”

“Christ, Raff.” Guido shakes his head. “Please, let me arrange for someone to take her back home before she realizes who you are. Because we’re doomed if she does.”

I release him. “Too late for that.”