Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
"Filia! What's wrong?" he asks.
"I think I'm over tired." I laugh to take the seriousness out of the moment and try to push away from Marco. The instant I do my knees become custard. "Oh!" Again he catches me, tighter than before.
"You've been on your feet for too long, Filia. Let's get you to the hotel."
"No, no, I want to see more of Rome."
"You need rest." He speaks bluntly, no room for argument. His commanding tone sends a shiver running down my spine and the backs of my thighs. I focus on the intensity of his eyes and know he won't give in. It thrills me.
Sighing, I let him help me down the sidewalk. "Okay, fine."
It's good that he forced my hand; three steps and I can barely walk at all. Marco scoops his big forearm around my middle, lifting me, hauling me with such ease, nearly carrying me but doing it in a subtle way to allow me my dignity. God, he's strong. I've always had a weakness for muscular men. Something about the raw power they control gets my body hot.
His fingers grip at my waist where the skin is sensitive, his arm is firm and tense behind me. I feel held and secure, but also helpless, like he could do anything he wanted with me. I just might let him…
As we walk back to the hotel, I can feel Marco's muscles tense and relax under his shirt as he carries me. I try to focus on the city around us, the way the light is starting to fade into oranges and pinks, but all I can think about is the heat radiating off of him. It's like I'm pressed up against a furnace, and I can't help but feel a thrill of excitement.
When we arrive at the hotel, Marco sets me gently on my feet and helps me up to my room. Once inside, I flop down on the bed with a sigh of relief. "Thanks for carrying me back," I say, feeling a little embarrassed for being so weak.
"It was no trouble," Marco says, his eyes scanning my body. "You're beautiful when you're tired."
“Thanks.” I feel my cheeks flush and look down at my hands, noticing how my shirt has lifted just enough to show a little skin. I quickly pull the hem down. “I don't usually look my best when I'm exhausted."
"I bet you’d be beautiful covered in mud."
I stare at him, my jaw open wide. He doesn’t flinch. He’s confident in every compliment he hands out, no hesitation, no time wasted backtracking. It makes me wonder if I’m dizzy from exhaustion or arousal now.
“I’ll be right back.” As he disappears into the bathroom, I can't help but feel a sense of longing wash over me. There's something about Marco that draws me in, something that makes me feel alive in a way that I haven't felt in a long time. I lean back against the firm matress, the silk pillowcase soft under my head, and press a hand to my chest.
When he comes back,he hands me a wet face cloth, and I press it to my temple. The hotel isn’t a cheap place but the AC isn’t doing much for the warmth. Maybe because the warmth is coming from inside of me? Marco offers me a glass bottle of mineral water from the suite’s kitchenette. The cool liquid soothes my parched throat. He sits down next to me on the bed, his eyes searching mine.
"You know, Filia," he says in a low voice, "It's strange."
I swallow. "What is?"
He hesitates, then smiles crookedly, a hand running along his neck. "I had too much fun flirting with you on that flight. When it was over, I was disappointed. The chances of us ever meeting by chance again, of you actually calling my number, were so low they might as well have been a fantasy. And yet here you are." He studies me closely. "So beautiful, so close. What are the odds?"
My pulse picks up as his words wash over me and his forearm grazed my thigh. There's something thrilling about being with a man who's not afraid to speak his mind, who's not afraid to take what he wants.
"If I was good at running the odds," I whisper, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "I'd have seen Drew getting me fired from my job from a mile away."
Marco tenses. Shit, I said something gloomy and ruined the mood. Parting my lips, I rush to get an excuse off my tongue, a way to apologize and bring the topic back around to how beautiful he thinks I am, and how lucky we are that we’ve had this second chance. Should I tell him how handsome I think he is too? Should I tell him about the desire blooming inside me?