CHAPTER 5: A Thorn In My Flesh

MARA'S POV

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Vescari, but could I use the bathroom?”

Isabella smiles immediately. “Of course, darling. Upstairs, second door on the left. You can take your time.”

“Thank you, ma'am.”

I push my chair back, trying very hard not to look toward the staircase where Damian disappeared a few minutes ago.

But I catch myself glancing up. He is nowhere around. That's good. I turn away before Adrian notices me staring towards the staircase.

“I'll be right back,” I whisper into Adrian's ear.

He smiles and nods. “Take your time.”

I make it halfway up the stairs before I finally breathe properly. What the hell is wrong with me?

I reach the bathroom and close the door behind me, then lean against it with both palms pressed flat against the cool wood.

My reflection stares back at me from the enormous mirror. My cheeks are still warm from the drama. “This is ridiculous.”

I turn on the tap and splash cold water over my face, I stare at myself. The man I've spent years quietly loving is the younger brother to the man who kissed me last night.

Of all the men in this city, of all the families, of all the possible jobs, why this one?

I wipe my face and take another breath. Nothing happened. Last night was an accident, a very inappropriate, completely insane accident involving a criminal, a gunfight, and the most infuriatingly good-looking man I've ever seen. That's all, it's not deep, so don't overthink it.

I straighten my blouse and whisper the words to myself as I stare at my reflection.

“I am going downstairs, I will finish lunch, I will get the gardening job, I will go home, and I will never think about Damian Vescari again.”

I take a deep breath and reach for the door. A hand stops it from opening, and my breath catches. The door pushes inward, and Damien steps inside wearing that gorgeous, infuriating look. His hands run through his perfect dark hair, his dark, sexy eyes locking onto mine as he closes the door behind him. My face goes pale, my legs weaken, and I stumble backward.

“What are you doing here?”

He doesn't answer. He simply walks toward me, I keep retreating until the backs of my legs hit the wooden cabinet beside the washer and dryer tucked into the guest utility section.

He stops in front of me. My fingers curl against the edge of the counter. I hate that they are trembling, and I hate even more that he notices. His mouth curves, that smile, that damn smile again.

“Thank heavens you're here,” I say as I try to keep my voice steady.

His eyebrows rise.

I point at him. “Listen to me.”

He folds his arms across his chest, then waits patiently, like a man who has all the time in the world and has just found something entertaining to watch.

I take a breath still pointing to his face. “What happened last night was a total misunderstanding.”

His mouth twitches.

I continue, my voice firm. “I didn't know you were Adrian's brother, and I certainly wasn't expecting some crazy man to burst into my flower shop while being chased and end up kissing me to cover up for him.”

He leans forward, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. My legs almost give out, but I force the words out of my throat anyway.

“So, we're going to forget last night happened, and we're going to move on with our lives. It's not a big deal after all, so we are good. But please Adrian doesn't have to know about what happened, I wouldn't want him thinking I am some cheap, classless lady.”

His eyes travel slowly over my face. Then he says, “You have beautiful eyes.”

I stare at him. “What?”

He leans forward leaving me completely breathless, “They sparkle when you speak.”

For a second, I genuinely wonder if he has some kind of head injury. “What the fuck?”

His smile widens.

My eyes burn with fury. “Did you even listen to anything I said?”

“Oh, yes, I did.” He pushes away from the wall.

“You said I shouldn't forget how beautiful and soft your lips were last night and how much you craved for more.”

My jaw drops. He continues, wearing that confident smile. “Hell no, butterfly. I won't dare forget.”

My face burns. “You are so unbelievable and totally full of yourself.”

He throws his head back and laughs hard. He is actually enjoying whatever this nonsense is.

I point a finger at him. “First of all, I never craved your lips.”

My traitorous mind immediately supplies me with the truth. I did. Oh God, I actually did. I dreamed about them last night and woke up thinking about them.

I remembered the way his mouth moved against mine, and the way his hair felt beneath my fingers when I grabbed him during the chaos.

And apparently, my brain has decided to keep replaying the memory whenever it gets bored.

I push the thought away. “Secondly,” I continue, “whatever sick game this is, I am done playing it.”

He leans closer, staring into my eyes.

I continue, my voice steady and firm. “I am devoted to Adrian, and that is it.”

Silence stretches between us for a few seconds, then Damian laughs. It is not the charming laugh he gave his mother a while ago.

He laughs like I've just told him the funniest thing he's heard all week. He bends his head, one hand coming up to cover his mouth, his shoulders shaking.

“What's so funny?” I quirk an eyebrow.

He tries to compose himself, but his composure lasts for two seconds.

“Did you just say devoted?”

His eyes meet mine, and there are tears almost gathering at the corners from laughing.

My fist clenches beside me. “Yes, I am. What's the problem?”

“You have been devoted to him since God knows when.”

His smile fades slightly. “Where has that gotten you? Oh you think I don't know about your sick fantasy about Adrian?”

The question hits a nerve. I swallow and look away, did Adrian ever figure out I was in love with him? Did he tell Damian about it?.

Lots of questions drown my mind, my heart pounds loudly in my ears. Truly, loving Adrian had gotten me nowhere. Years of watching Adrian notice women who look nothing like me, years of pretending I don't care when he tells me about some beautiful woman he met.

Years of being the friend he calls when he needs help, advice, notes, someone to listen, loving him quietly because having him in my life as a friend feels better than losing him completely.

My throat tightens. I straighten my dress, my voice snapping back into place. “Whatever.”

I push past Damian. “Stay out of my way. I am warning you.”

I reach for the door, but his hand catches my waist. I gasp. He pulls me back, my back pressing against his chest for half a second before he turns me around.

His hand remains firm around my waist. I look up at him, he is much too close, so close that I can feel the heat of him through my clothes.

My heart starts pounding so hard that I am convinced he can hear it. Why is he looking at me like that?

His eyes drop to my mouth, then return to my eyes. The expression on his face makes my stomach tighten.

It isn't the smug amusement from downstairs. There is something darker there, and it makes my fingers curl against his jacket.

I shouldn't be touching him, I don't move my hand, his gaze flickers toward it, then he looks back at me. I swallow, keeping a steady face.

His voice drops to a soft, husky murmur, sending a warm shiver down my spine. “You just told me to stay away from you.” He pauses, studying my eyes, his finger brushing gently along my cheek. “Why are your cheeks flushed, butterfly?”

I swallow hard as a slow heat spreads through my skin.

“Listen to me,” he says quietly. “I'm only going to say this once.”

His thumb presses lightly against my waist. I gasp.

“Prepare to get rid of me.”

I blink. “What?”

He continues, completely trapping me against his side. “You're going to see more of me.” His mouth curves. “I am going to pester the daylight out of you. I would be with you everywhere, even in your dreams.”

My heart clenches. I struggle to breathe. “Damian—” My voice trembles as I struggle to pull free. “You're insane.”

“Probably.”

He pulls me closer, my breath catching as his face lowers toward mine. I know what he's going to do. I should push him away, I should slap him again, I should tell him that I am Adrian's best friend and that whatever twisted game he thinks he's playing needs to end right now.

Instead, I stare at his mouth. Damn it, his lips are getting closer, and I can feel his breath against mine. My fingers tighten around his jacket as he tilts my chin upward.

Then, a knock at the door. I freeze, and Damian stops.

Another knock lands against the door.

“Mara?”

It's Adrian. My entire body goes rigid.