CHIARA
I couldn't sleep.
Sleep eluded me, no matter how hard I tried or how often I tossed and turned in bed. I groaned, pushing off the sheets, and climbed down. The satin thigh-length nightdress fell into place. I grabbed its matching white lightweight robe and wore it loosely. Stepping into the black open-toe furry slippers, I left the room.
It was eerily quiet. Was he asleep already? I answered myself when I heard a voice coming and fading away downstairs. There were several rooms down here too, but one had its door slightly ajar, and light seeped from inside. I peeked and saw him talking on the phone, facing the long glass window. His other hand ruffled his hair. He was about to turn when I eased back against the wall before he could see me. My heart raced. What are you doing, Chichi?
Frowning, I headed to the kitchen instead. I couldn't even tell why I was hiding. I skimmed over to the fridge, and my eyes widened at the sight of it. "What the hell." This was not a home fridge. This was a grocery store. There was everything you could think of that could be in a rich madman's fridge. Because this man was rich and mad. I spent an entire minute deciding what to take from it and ended up with two containers of ice cream because I couldn't pick between vanilla and chocolate flavor.
"You couldn't sleep either?" I shrieked, turning around, struggling to catch the containers in my hands from flying off. "Oh, God." He uttered, coming over with a concerned look. I took a deep breath, my hold tightening around the containers. I blew the hair from my face and shot him a glare. He took a step back, raising both of his hands.
"Are you planning on killing me with a heart attack?" I asked, willing my heart to calm the fuck down. I didn't even hear him coming. What was happening to me? "If it's dying, I'll prefer we do it together. But what I'm planning to do is to make you fall for me." He stated without stuttering, smirking even. Forget it. My fragile heart would never calm down in the presence of this silly, hot man. He wasn't aware of what he was doing to me. Going around saying all those stupid words.
Ugh! I turned and headed to the island. I could hear him closely behind me. I faced him. "Help me up here," I gestured to the island. He looked at me intently as if he was trying to decipher whether I was sure about what I'd said. I waited. He looked troubled, so troubled that I was about to give up. Then, without a warning, his hands grabbed my hips, sending tingling sensations, and I held my breath at the heat our closeness brought. And with so much ease, he lifted me and placed me on the island, leaving me gasping.
He looked at me dead in the eyes before retracting his hands and maintaining a short distance between us. At least he touched me. I was almost certain he wouldn't. "That's Celia's combination." He said, pointing at the containers I'd placed on the island. A smile formed on my lips. "It's perfect, I promise." I opened the lids. I was about to mention it, but he'd already gone to the cupboards and brought back a spoon for me. "Thank you." He just smiled in return.
I scooped a half spoon of vanilla and another half of chocolate and raised the spoon for him. He seemed taken aback at my action. "Come on," I urged. He leaned forward, parted his lips, and wiped it clean. I waited with a single brow raised while he processed it before he swallowed. "So?" I asked. He gave me both thumbs up and his beautiful smile. One that I'd been trying to get rid of inside my mind.
The man ended up having his own spoon as we both attacked the ice creams over a chat. He told me about his family. There was his mother, Francesca, his father…the business mogul, Marcello Conti. And then his young brother Marcel Junior, with whom I'd already had business. And his young sister, Celia, the girl I'd met in the washroom at that event. And I told him about mine. Well, there was not much to tell after all.
"Um… you have a—" he said, gesturing at my face.
"What?"
"May I?"
I nodded in response. He came closer, his one hand resting on the island, slightly touching mine, and causing that heat to rise again between us. Time went slowly as he raised his hand and wiped the corner of my lip with his thumb, before bringing it to his mouth. My heart raced, watching how his lips wrapped around it and sucked. I let out a shaky breath, causing him to take a step back, creating a distance between us. So much distance that I missed his heat.
I frowned deeply. "Why aren't you touching me?" I blurted, feeling anger rising at full speed. "What?" he asked. "You can touch me," I said. His eyes widened, and then he shook his hand. "No, I can't." A pang hit my heart. "Why can't you touch me?" I snapped. "I—You—" he stuttered. "Stop it." I raised my hand. "You did the same thing before, and now you're repeating it. Making me feel worthless. I thought you said you love me!" I stared, willing my eyes not to dare to betray me now. I hated appearing vulnerable.
If he was surprised, now he was extremely concerned. "What? Nonsense. Why would you think you're worthless?" He asked. "I asked you." He shook his head. "You're not worthless, love. You just don't know what you mean to me. I had to change myself to become worthy of you." I scoffed, "Your actions say otherwise. Ugh! This conversation is meaningless." I slid from the island and placed down the spoon with a loud thud and walked out of the kitchen.
"Chiara," he called out behind me. "Love, talk to me. Please don't leave," he said. "I don't want to talk to you." Why the hell was I so angry at this? He climbed the stairs along with me. "Just listen to me, please." He pleaded. "Leave me alone," I bit my lip hard, refusing to cry tonight.
"I didn't touch you because you told me not to!" he snapped. I paused before my door, "I said no such thing." I faced him. "Oh, but you did. The first day you arrived, you asked me not to touch you." He looked away, taking a deep breath, tugging his hair before looking at me again. "Do you have any idea how desperate and dying I was to?" There was so much sincerity in his eyes, I couldn't look away. "I was only following your words. But I also didn't want to appear lustful to you, even though I do have dirty thoughts about you every single night. I'm a grown man, Chiara. But I need more from you, more than just a mere lust." I was speechless.
"Touching is not having sex. You can touch me, Carmelo." I said. He looked at me for a second. "Say that again." I moved closer to him, removing the robe from my body and the distance between us. "You. Can. Touch. Me." I said. He let out a breathy laugh, something shining in his eyes. Then his hands reached for mine, a smile breaking on his face. His fingers grazed my skin up to my shoulder, erupting a strong sensation all the while holding gaze with.
He brought both my hands to his lips and kissed my knuckles. This wasn't the kiss I'd been expecting from a grown man, but yeah, it worked the charm. "Thank you." His hands wrapped around my waist ever so gently, pulling me in his embrace. My body stilled. He let out a breath that vibrated through our bodies. As if he was waiting for this moment his entire life.
"I want you to know you are worthy and mean so much. Never say such things to me again, love." He buried his face in the crook of my neck. My hands rested around his lower back, our hearts beating in sync. I'd never thought a hug could feel this good. I wanted to remain in his arms forever. As if he heard me, he pulled me tighter to himself. "God, this feels so good. Better than I imagined." He uttered, his hot breath burning my skin.