He let go of me.
I missed the warmth of his hand and rubbed the place where he had held it. “Well, you don’t have to quit because of me. We can stop sleeping together. Problem solved.”
“That’s easier said than done.”
My heart skipped several beats. “Why?”
He took a step closer to me. “Have you forgotten what happened yesterday?” he asked. “How it was between us?”
I was glued to the spot and I realized then, that although Angelo seemed complicated, he really was a straightforward kind of guy. What you saw was what you got. When he felt disgust, it showed, when he felt concern it also showed, and when he was angry, he let it all out. Right now, he was being honest. More honest than I was being about how I felt. He wasn’t leaving as a ploy to keep some distance between us or due to a lack of interest. He wanted to leave because he couldn’t trust himself not to touch me again.
My heart felt like it was melting in my chest.
I found the courage, lifted my hand, and placed it on his chest, just over his heart.
He leaned into me, as though he couldn’t help himself.
I heard the sharp intake of his breath. “Well, let’s keep on going then,” I whispered.
His eyebrows drew together and he stepped away. “I can’t do that. What’s mine is mine. It would kill me to see you with him.”
“Angelo, I’m not engaged,” I argued. “They may think the engagement is settled, but I haven’t accepted it yet.”
He returned his gaze to me, and I knew he was well aware, possibly even more than I was, of the inner workings of my family. I had less power than an ant when it came to altering my father’s decisions.
“Until it’s official,” I insisted stubbornly. “Until I accept we’re not together. I don’t owe him loyalty and neither does he owe me any. I won’t be surprised or care if he’s seeing someone right now.” I swallowed hard. “So we can keep going.”
“That’s not the main reason why I can’t be your bodyguard anymore,” he said. “Being intimate with you blurs the professional line that should be between us, and sometimes the vigilance from that professionalism can be the difference between life and death.”
I did not have an argument to that. “Let’s talk about this some other time,” I said. “After we’re done with training.”
“I’ve made up my mind,” he said.
Panic gripped my heart. I couldn’t let him go. Not yet. “Then let’s just do it one last time.”
He slammed the locker shut and began to walk away.
I could see the tenseness in his shoulder muscles. “Angelo,” I called.
Although it looked as if he would continue to ignore me, he stopped just as he reached the door.
The words that came out of my mouth then were incredibly difficult. “Fine. Let’s keep things professional then. You don’t have to quit.”
He turned and stared at me.
My eyes stung with the urge to tear up so I quickly turned away and sat on the bench. “I need to change,” I said. “Please leave.”
Less than a moment later, the door swung shut behind him.
I put everything I had into our round in the ring, and it was mostly because I was fuming. I felt angry with no one in particular but at my world and the inhumane sacrifice my parents were asking of me. Safety at the expense of my happiness. I wished I could run back to England … with Angelo. Going back to England without him would be even more painful than being here and unable to have him.
I swung my fists, covered with thick wraps and gloves, repeatedly at him.
I knew he restrained himself, but I didn’t hold back. I managed a couple of body blows and I was even able to make him stagger once. I cheated, by lifting my t-shirt up to wipe my forehead and distracting him with a view of my bare stomach, but a blow was a blow and he should have known after last night that I fight dirty.
The rest of the men seemed to be absolutely captivated by the fight. I no longer cared about being self-conscious at the many eyes on me, or anything else for that matter. All I could think about was that I needed to fight because if I didn’t, then I was certain I would just suffocate to death.
Chapter 32
Sienna
It was a difficult week. Angelo wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. I felt glad Charlotte would be arriving from England that day for a week’s trip. I badly needed someone I could talk to, but I was certain all the phones in the house were bugged so I had suffered in silence.
I almost cried when I saw her at the airport. Both of us spotted each other at the same time. We ran towards each other like long, lost souls. She threw her knapsack to the group and flew into my arms. It felt so good to hug her again.