“What?” Rome asks with a grin, casting quick glances at me as he drives away from the sidewalk and into the lunchtime traffic.
“I didn’t peg you as a pop fan,” I tell him, referring to the song playing.
He laughs out loud, the sound once more gripping my heart, making me feel at ease beside him. I want this to be normal. I want Rome and me to make this work. My gut churns when a glimpse of a reminder of the life I left behind comes to the forefront of my mind.
“I like all kinds of music, sweetheart,” he tells me. When we stop at a traffic light, he turns to look at me. “Why? What’s your favorite music?”
I shrug, suddenly nervous about being put on the spot. Because I’m certain he’ll laugh at my choice.
“Tell me,” he coaxes. “I want to learn all there is to know about you, Elisabet,” he tells me earnestly, and I see it shining in his eyes.
“I’m a classical girl,” I tell him, ignoring the second part of his affirmation. He can’t want to learn about me. I don’t want him to, because my secrets are not something that I’m proud of.
“Mmm,” he murmurs as he pulls away from the green light. “Yeah, I can see that. But when you’re in the bakery, when you’re lost in creating sweet things, what music do you have pumping through the speakers? It can’t be classical.”
I shrug.
He laughs.
I smile.
He places his hand on my thigh and offers it a squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me everything. Not yet. But I like learning about you, knowing what makes you tick.”
I cast a glance his way, taking in his profile. The lightly stubbled angular jaw. The prominent features that remind me of a carved statue. He is everything a woman could want, and he could have any woman who crosses his path. And yet, here he is with me.
“I like pop music as well,” I tell him, feeling the blush on my cheeks. “And I sing along.”
“I knew it!” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I can’t wait to hear you sing.”
“Oh no, I only do it when I’m alone, or in the shower,” I admit, smiling at the light-hearted banter. “And if you ever hear me sing, you may change your mind about wanting to know me.”
His expression falls serious before he admits, “Nothing could make me not want to know you, sweetheart.”
Chapter 13
Rome
I don’t know why I said that, but I ignore her reaction as I pull up to the building. Killing the engine, I turn to look at her again.
“Let’s go see your new apartment,” I tell her before opening my door and exiting the vehicle. By the time I reach her door, I feel more confident at my admission. The war that’s raging within me is taking hold. I hate lies and secrets, but I also want her so much I can’t stop thinking about her.
What I told her earlier was true. I couldn’t get her off my mind. Even as I walked into the office this morning, all I could think about was being near her. When Bianca told me she had the apartment showing today, I jumped at the opportunity to see Elisabet’s face when she saw her new home for the first time.
I lead her through the foyer toward the elevator. The silver doors slide open, we step inside, and the sexual tension between us spikes. Being alone in a confined space does nothing to lower my need for this woman.
My cock is still hard. My veins are simmering with desire and lust to pin her against the wall and consume her, but I behave. For now. When we reach the third floor, the doors open, and I wait for her to exit first.
“I hope you’ll like this place,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice sounding neutral and not at all the husky growl it usually sounds like when I’m turned on. Focus, Rome. Focus.
“I like the building; it’s secure. Is there a security guard all day?”
“Yes, the doorman is here until six, and then you’ll have a guard downstairs until the early morning. Nobody is allowed up without signing in, and if you’d like, you can have them buzz the apartment with the name of the person visiting.”
She smiles, relief evident on her features, and I wonder who she’s afraid of. Perhaps this has something to do with her past. Maybe she’s on the run. The thought jolts me as I unlock the door and push it open.
Waving my hand, I gesture for her to enter. I follow behind, closing the door. I lean against it, watching her take in the space. It’s mostly open plan. The kitchen and living room are a large room, broken into two by the breakfast bar. The living room has floor-to-ceiling windows which overlook the city, and, in the distance, you can see the river.