Julianna

Nobody followed me that night. I made sure of it. I doubled back and went a circuitous way to make sure. I slipped inside a small nondescript building on the edge of downtown Verona.

What am I doing here? My feet padded on the old worn carpet of the lobby. This was a far cry from Roman's real apartment. The handler working for the man who tried to kidnap me works for the Tyrells.

Usedto. He might not work for the Tyrells anymore. Think of how surprised Roman was to hear his name. If Giovanni Tyrell was after you, Roman had nothing to do with it.

Stupid girl. You really are so na?ve and foolish.

I rode the elevator and stepped out onto the landing of the fourth floor before making my way to the faded gray door marked 17, the fluorescent light above me flickering ominously. I was here to confront Roman. I had to look him in the eyes when I told him what I knew. I had to watch his reaction. Then I'd know for sure.

I knocked. He answered the door within seconds.

For a moment, he just stared at me from the doorway, relief clear in his eyes. He pulled me into the apartment, locking the door behind us. He wrapped his arms around me, his face burying into my neck. "Fuck, you smell so damn good. I thought I might go mad today wondering if you'd come. I wanted to stay until you woke this morning but…"

I didn't move to hug him back. He pulled back, one of his hands pushing back the hair from my face. "What's wrong?" He searched my face. His own cracked into an icy mask. "You've come here to tell me that we are a mistake, haven't you?"

"Tito ‘Goldfish' Brevio," I said simply.

Roman tensed against me. "I wanted to tell you…"

"But you were afraid at how it'd look?" I finished for him.

He paused. "Yes."

"Did you know?" My voice had turned to ice. "Was this some kind of ruse to gain my trust?"

"No!" he said, his features twisting. "How could you even think…?" His lip curled up. "No, I understand exactly why you would think that. There's no reason why you should trust me."

I let out a small breath of relief. I knew from his reaction, Roman hadn't been in on it. "Is Tito still working for your father? Am I in danger from your family?"

His nostrils flared with rage. Before I could back away he grabbed my face in his hands. His touch was firm, bordering on painful. The power in his grip, raw and coiled, triggered a deer-like reaction in me and I froze with a gasp.

"I will never ever let anyone hurt you, least of all my own fucking family. I would kill them all, my cousins, my brother, even my own damn father, before I let them touch a single hair on your head. Do you understand me?"

I. Couldn't. Breathe.

I could barely think. My mind had gone.

Fuck, I think even my heart stopped.

He took a deep, shaky breath. When he spoke again his voice was calmer. "Do you understand me?"

I nodded. Or at least I thought I did.

"Words, Julianna. I need to hear them."

"Yes," I croaked out. I had to clear my throat, it had gotten so dry. "I understand."

"Good." His grip relaxed but he didn't let go of my face. "You don't need to be scared of me. Ever."

"I'm not," I lied. The truth was, I was scared. I was downright terrified. But not because I might lose my life…

I was scared I'd lose my heart.

I was terrified at how hard I seemed to be falling for him, even though it didn't make any rational, logical sense, and that I just didn't seem to care about the consequences.

Most of all, I feared the day that we'd be torn apart.

"Good," he said again. On his face was a shadow of a smile.

His eyes dropped to my mouth. His thumb brushed along my bottom lip. A shiver ran through me, my nipples instantly hardening. How was it possible that one tiny touch from him was enough to fill me with such want? He knew too, the bastard. His eyes glistened with smug hunger as they rolled over my body.

I felt myself blushing. "Aren't… Aren't you going to show me your mother's apartment?" I had barely registered anything when I came in.

"Later." Roman picked me up and wrapped my legs around his waist before pressing me up against the door.

* * *

"And this?"I picked up a small photo frame made of knobby unbaked clay edged in seashells. It had been broken once into a dozen or so pieces, but it had been glued back together. It framed a photo of a stunning woman and a young boy. I recognized those eyes. This must be Roman when he'd been a boy. And his mother.

Roman laughed as he came up behind me, snatching the photo frame out of my hands and placing it back on the shelf. He spun me to face him and draped my arms around his neck. "You're a very curious creature."

"Only because you never like to give anything away about yourself. The surest way to stop me from asking questions is to tell me everything."

"Never. If I do, you'll stop being curious about me."

"I'll never stop being curious."

His eyes traced down my body. He let out a low growl. "Have I told you how incredible you look wearing just my shirt?"

I laughed. "Only about a thousand times."

"Prepare to hear it a thousand more." He leaned down to kiss me but I dodged his lips.

"You still haven't told me about the seashell frame."

He let out a long sigh and wrapped his arms around me, kissing the top of my head. "I was ten. I made it for my mother using shells that I'd collected from her favorite beach. My brothers teased me for being so sentimental and broke it. I thought she had thrown the pieces away but…she must have hidden it here and glued it back together."

"You loved her so much, didn't you?"

"But it wasn't enough."

I turned to face him. "What does that mean?"

Roman's face cracked, a deep pain flashing in his eyes. "I loved her but I couldn't stop her from dying."

"You couldn't have done anything, Roman."

He shook his head. "You don't understand." It came out a whisper.

"Understand what?"

"The newspapers were right. I killed her."