I’d put my sleep pants back on after my shower, not wanting to be naked if I needed to leave the room again. Moving as quietly as I could, I stepped out of the bedroom.
“I’m in the kitchen,” Giorgio called before I’d even set foot in the hall.
“How did you hear me?” I’d been absolutely silent.
“Practice,” he said.
I was going to have to face him sooner or later, so I might as well get it over with. My stomach growled as if in agreement.
He turned toward me when I entered the kitchen. “I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to wake up.”
It wasn’t even nine o’clock. “I thought you were leaving.”
“My boss vetoed that plan. Again.”
And I’d apparently forgotten my plan to ignore him. My eyes skimmed over his shirtless form. Fuck, I still wanted him.
I expected him to be smirking at me when my gaze returned to his face. Instead, he wore the perfectly neutral expression he’d worn when my mother and I had met with him.
I brushed past him, got a mug from the cabinet, and filled it with coffee he must have made earlier.
I knew I should thank him for leaving me some, but I didn’t say a word. I just opened the fridge and looked for creamer. There didn’t seem to be any. If I had to start this day without decent coffee, I wasn’t going to make it.
“I want the car keys so I can go get some real coffee.”
I frowned and looked at my mug. “That coffee is perfectly real, princess.”
“There’s no creamer. Is there even sugar?”
“Not unless some was left here.”
“Of course you take your coffee black. How manly of you.”
“I don’t tie my masculinity to my coffee choice, but yes, I do take mine black.”
“‘I’m stuck here with you being an ass in a cabin that’s falling down around us with no space to get my work done. I can’t do this without real coffee.”
Everything crashed in on me then—the reality of the trouble Alan was causing me, the fact I could be in real danger, and the reality of being stuck in the middle of nowhere for God knew how long with a man who refused to acknowledge the chemistry between us.
I had to get the pieces done for my showing, which meant I was going to have to move the broken couch aside and set up in the tiny living room while Giorgio watched me, or I’d have to tell him to fuck off and risk my life in my apartment alone. I was suddenly so angry I wanted to tear everything apart, and I didn’t mind starting with Giorgio.
“You can’t make me stay here. I’m not a fucking prisoner.”
“You are my responsibility. I am not letting anything happen to you.”
“Do you only care because it’s your fucking job? Or is there more to it?”
Giorgio stared at me. I couldn’t read him. How could he be so fucking cold after the previous night?
I couldn’t take it anymore. I yanked open the front door and ran. I heard Giorgio behind me, and that only made me run faster. I had no idea where I was going. It wasn’t like I could run all the way back to my apartment. I didn’t even have my keys. I didn’t have anything, but I couldn’t stay in that cabin with Giorgio for one more minute.
I didn’t think there was any way I could outrun him. I didn’t even know if I wanted to, but I couldn’t make myself stop. He caught me halfway down the driveway, grabbed hold of my arm, and spun me around.
As I stared at him, my breath hitched. I slapped a hand over my mouth as a sob escaped. I struggled, trying to make him let go, but he wouldn’t. I was angry, sad, and embarrassed. I didn’t know what to do, and my emotions overwhelmed me. I dropped to my knees in the dirt and let myself cry.
I thought Giorgio would yell at me or drag me back to my feet and force me to go back to the cabin, but he didn’t do any of that. He sat down beside me and laid a hand on my back. I leaned into his touch, and he wrapped his arms around me, letting me cry on his shoulder. When the tears stopped, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to talk. I was way too embarrassed.
Finally I pulled away and wiped my eyes. I shivered and realized I was freezing. All I had on were sleep pants and slippers. Giorgio was also shirtless, but his body had been warm as I’d clung to him. Maybe he was impervious to the weather.
He touched my arm gently. “Come back inside. Work on getting your art set up, and I’ll make some breakfast.”