5. Hannah

My trembling subsides in the tall stranger's arms as we ride up in the elevator. That takes me completely off-guard because I'm expecting the fear to kick in harder as we get closer to his room. But, for some strange, inexplicable reason, this man feels like my rescuer, not my enemy. The other men who were fighting over winning me, on the other hand, were not good news and left me terrified. They had evil intentions. Of course, maybe I'm just in denial and hoping this man who I'm clinging to won't hurt me.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Am I fool to believe him? Yes. But, I want his words to be true more than anything.

My fingers curl into his shirt, clutching at the soft cotton, and I find myself looking up to sneak a glance at his strong profile. Whoever he is, he's very handsome. Stubble covers his angular chin and he possesses high cheekbones and a straight, perfectly-shaped nose. His hair is thick and dark brown, shorter on the sides and longer on top, neatly swept back. And his eyes…simply stunning. Two bright green gems that suddenly look down and lock onto me. Very serious and full of…concern?

"Are you okay?" he asks, gaze searching my face.

I nod, unable to find the words to respond. They're caught in my throat. A part of me feels like I should tell him to put me down, but I don't want that. I want him to hold me in his arms and never let go.

The elevator door slides open and he steps out.

"I'm going to set you down now, okay?" His voice is low, almost soothing, and I reluctantly let go of his shirt, realizing I wrinkled it from holding onto him so hard.

"Sorry," I whisper as my bare feet touch the carpet, "I got you all wrinkly." Without thinking, I reach up and try to smooth the material down, unable to miss his hard chest muscles and how they feel beneath my touch.

He pulls in a breath and freezes. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

I nod and lower my hand, suddenly feeling foolish, and watch as he removes a keycard from an envelope and opens the door.

"Go ahead." He motions for me to go inside and my heart kicks up again. This man is a complete stranger and though it momentarily felt like he was saving me, should I be scared? Does he plan to use me tonight? Even though he told me he wasn't going to hurt me, can I trust him? Doubt fills me and I hesitate.

Then it hits me hard—this man just paid one-hundred and fifty six thousand dollars to spend the night with me. Of course, he's going to want something in return. Why else would he have forked out a fortune? My feet refuse to move and he looks down at me with those amazing emerald eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

Once again, words elude me. I clear my throat and cross my arms over my chest. The silkiness of the negligee reminds me that I'm standing here, wearing practically nothing.

"If you come inside," he murmurs softly, "I can give you my jacket. And we can order some room service if you're hungry."

His kindness touches me and emotion crashes over me. Lowering my face, I move past him and enter the room as tears threaten to fall. The last couple of weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster and I'm not sure how much more I can take. I've never felt so lost or alone in my entire life. Standing in the middle of the room, not sure what to do, I turn and watch him close the door. Then he shrugs his jacket off and holds it open for me. I take a tentative step closer and let him slip it over my shoulders. It's so warm and smells really good—a little citrusy, and a lot masculine. Pulling his jacket tighter around me, I look up and see him watching me closely. There's nothing in his expression that scares me or makes me wary; his bright green eyes are strangely calming and, if I'm not mistaken, hold a touch of sympathy. Or, maybe it's empathy.

"Sit," he murmurs, and I drop down on the edge of the bed. "Can we talk?"

"You just paid a ton of money for my company. I think that can be arranged."

A laugh bursts from his throat. "I did, didn't I?" Then he grows serious again, studying me closely. "You didn't belong up on that stage. I would've paid more to get you out of there."

My eyes widen and it occurs to me that he's serious. "Why?" I ask, voice barely a whisper. Who is this amazing man? And why did he come to my rescue?

His face darkens at my question. "Because I didn't like the way those men were fighting over you. Like you were some prize they could win. There's no way I was letting any of them walk out of there with you."

"But, why?" I ask again, thoroughly confused. "As much as I appreciate your help, you don't even know me. And, you certainly don't owe me anything."

He slowly lowers down on the mattress beside me. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I had the impression you didn't want to be up there."

"No, I didn't."

"How did you wind up on that stage?"

I pull in a shaky breath and think over the hell my life has been this past month. Before I can stop myself, it all pours out of me—my mom being sick, how I was unable to pay for her treatments and provide her with the level of care I wanted, and how my desperation made me accept a loan from Dexter Creed.

"I made a deal with the devil," I say, "and when he came to collect, I didn't have the money to pay him back. So his enforcer brought me back here and Creed told me I could basically have every bone in my body broken before he killed me or…"

"Or you could participate in the auction," he finishes, disgust lacing his deep voice.

I nod. "And then my debt would be paid off. Quickly and completely, and I wouldn't have to worry about running any longer."

"Your virginity was a steep price to pay."

Lowering my head, I clasp and unclasp my hands nervously. "I know. But better than dying, right?" I give him a half-hearted smile. "I'm just lucky you were there. I'll never be able to pay you back."

His knuckles brush along my jaw and he tilts my chin up. "It's all taken care of and all I ask is one thing."

Uh oh.Here it comes. The real reason he paid all that money and swept me out of there. Swallowing hard, I look into his deep, green eyes. "What?" I manage to force out.

"What's your name? I highly doubt it's Mary," he adds dryly.

My name?Frowning in confusion, I wait for him to demand something more in return, but he doesn't. He just looks at me expectantly. "Um, it's Hannah," I tell him. "Hannah Everson."

"It's nice to meet you, Hannah. I'm Vin Rossi."

"Vin?" I echo. "As in Vincent?"

He shakes his head. "No. Vincentius. But, nobody calls me that—except my mom."

Vin gives me an adorable lopsided grin and my stomach dips precariously. He's so good-looking and it's a little discombobulating. Yet something about him puts me at ease. "When you're in trouble?" I ask, a small smile curving my mouth upward.

"Exactly."

For a long moment, we just look at each other, smiling, and then his attention dips, focusing a moment too long on my lips. Without meaning to, I lick them and he clears his throat and shifts his attention over to the table where the room service menu lays.

"How about some food?" he suggests.

I'm sure the prices are outrageous and I hesitate.

"My treat," he quickly adds.

"Oh, no, I couldn't?—"

"I insist." His tone is firm and brooks no argument.

Now that the influx of adrenaline has worn off, I am hungry. I can't remember the last time I ate. Other than a glass of Coke and half a bagel at the diner during my break, I haven't eaten since yesterday. "Okay, thank you," I whisper.

"What do you have a taste for?" He flips the pages and I pull my feet up onto the bed, tucking them beneath me.

"Anything."

"You gotta give me more than that. Cheeseburger, fries, salad, pizza, steak?"

"A grilled cheese and french fries sound good," I tell him, feeling shy all of a sudden. "Oh, and a Coke."

"Done."

I sit back and listen as he places the order, watching the way his throat moves as he talks and how his large hand holds the phone to his ear. His fingers are long and elegant-looking. The green button down shirt he's wearing fits his broad shoulders perfectly, pulling a little, and I can't help but notice the way the material hugs his muscled arms. Or, the way the color makes his amazing green eyes pop. My gaze tracks downward over his torso, and the shirt is tucked into a pair of nice, black dress pants. When I realize I'm looking at his crotch, I pull my lower lip into my mouth, and move my eyes downward to his thick, muscled thighs. My goodness, his legs are long and I swallow hard.

Vincentius Rossi is every woman's dream man. Suddenly, I'm so damn curious about my savior. After he hangs up, I tilt my head and meet those incredible green eyes of his. "How old are you?" I ask bluntly.

"Thirty-two," he answers without hesitation. "How about you?"

Oh, I didn't expect him to be so much older. Although, I should've known. He's very refined and mature. "I'm twenty-two."

Vin coughs behind his hand and moves away from me slightly. I wonder if I just freaked him out. Ten years is a lot, but I'm not a minor or anything. Not that it matters. We're just up here and going to eat dinner. That's all.

That's all. Right?

"I don't think I thanked you properly," I say and his head whips over. "Thank you…so very much. Tonight could've ended…well, very badly for me."

"You don't have to thank me. Creed is a disgusting human being to make you do that."

"Can I ask you a question?" He nods. "Why were you at the auction? It doesn't seem like your scene."

"It's not," he quickly replies. "My brother gave me the invite. He had no idea what it was about. He just thought it was a party and that I needed to, ah, get out and have some fun."

"Oh, I see." I look down at my fingernail and pick at the chipped, pink polish. "Can I ask you something else?"

"You can ask me anything you want if it makes you feel more comfortable," he tells me, face so serious that any lingering fear seems to melt away.

"Are we spending the night here? Or are you going to take me home?"

He seems to be considering my question carefully before answering. "I think we should stay here until morning. Just in case anyone is keeping tabs."

"Why would they keep tabs?"

He shrugs a shoulder. "Honestly, they probably aren't, but I don't know how this whole thing works and if we leave early, it might draw attention. And I don't want you back in the spotlight for any reason. I'd much rather we lay low for the rest of the night, stay under the radar, and leave bright and early. Is that okay with you?"

"I think so," I answer quietly.

"You can trust me, Hannah. I know you have no reason to, but I won't hurt you. I swear it."

I want to tell him that I believe him and trust in his promise, but the words feel like glue in my mouth, all stuck together and unable to come out. He's a stranger and I don't trust easily. Plus, I keep remembering how much money he paid for me. How can anyone just be able to afford to throw that amount of money away and not even blink?

"Are you really rich?" I blurt out. I probably sound rude and I instantly backtrack. "Sorry."

His mouth edges up and I shift on the bed, trying to find the right words.

"I'm just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact you basically flushed all that money down the toilet. Yet, you don't seem to care at all."

"First off, I think that money went to a very good cause. Don't you?"

"I guess so," I say slowly.

"And, second, to answer your question—yes, I have enough money that it doesn't matter."

"Oh," I whisper. He must be a millionaire. "Can I ask what you do?"

"My family owns a very prosperous vineyard in Sicily and I'm in charge of running the American division headquartered here in New York."

My brows go up. "Wow. That sounds like a very important job. I can see why you get paid the big bucks."

Vin barks out a laugh. "Well, if I'm being completely honest, I'm technically not starting my new position as president until Monday morning."

"Are you excited?"

He shrugs a shoulder. "Excited isn't the right word. But, I look forward to having something to do."

I'm not sure when I became so curious, but I can't stop asking this man questions. "Do you get to visit Sicily a lot?"

"I go back at least a couple of times a year. My parents still live on the island."

"Oh, that must be nice. I've never been there." I tilt my head, studying his dark Italian good looks. The man is ridiculously attractive and when he looks at me with those stunning green eyes, my ovaries flutter. "Can you speak Italian?"

He nods then leans closer and says a string of beautiful, foreign words in his deep, low, intoxicating voice. And, if my ovaries fluttered before? Now, they just burst. Holy hell, hearing him speak in Italian is so freaking sexy. For a moment, I'm not sure how to respond.

"What did you say?" I finally manage to ask, feeling more than a little flustered.

He sends me a panty-melting smile. "I said I'm glad you're safe, in here with me and, despite the earlier circumstances, I'm happy that we have this time to get to know each other better."

"Ohh." My heart does a weird little flip-flop in my chest and, when I switch my position on the mattress, there's no denying it. My panties are wet.

Before I can say anything else, our food arrives. The moment I get a whiff of it, my stomach growls in anticipation. Vin tips the server then carries two covered plates over to the bed. I pull the lid off and breathe deeply. A grilled cheese and fries never looked so good. I grab a half, sink my teeth into the gooey deliciousness and and moan with undisguised delight and appreciation. "This is the best grilled cheese I've ever had. Thank you, Vin." He pauses before biting into his hamburger and has the oddest look on his face. "What?"

"Nothing," he murmurs and takes a bite, watching me closely as he chews.

It doesn't take me long to devour my sandwich and attack my fries. Swiping one through a pile of ketchup, I munch happily, studying my savior. And, to my surprise and delight, he's studying me right back. Caught staring at each other, we both smile and my face instantly flushes.

"So, Hannah, what do you do? Are you in school?"

I shake my head. "No, I work at a diner."

He stops chewing and swallows the food down. "Do you like it?"

"No, I hate being on my feet all day. But I tell myself I'm lucky to have a job because not everyone does, right?"

"Right," he says slowly. "I suppose that's a good way to look at it."

But, for whatever reason, he doesn't look happy to learn where I work.

"So, what else do you do?" I ask, wanting to learn more about the man who rescued me tonight and then fed me dinner with zero expectations other than a friendly chat.

"My brothers and I run the other family businesses."

"Businesses?" I echo and take a sip of my Coke. Wow. He must have a ton of money. I'm not surprised, though. Vin Rossi looks like the kind of man who sits behind a big desk in a corner office in some fancy highrise. He exudes a calm, cool control that I find fascinating and I'm pretty willing to bet he knows how to handle just about any situation with aplomb.

He nods, but he doesn't go into any details. I've never been able to talk so freely with a man before and, for whatever reason, Vin makes me feel safe and secure. And that's something I haven't felt in a very long time. Hell, maybe ever. I've always been the one taking care of my mom and making sure everything was done. So it's really nice to have someone look out for me.

Stifling a yawn, I set my empty plate aside.

"Tired?" Vin asks.

"Exhausted," I admit. "It's been a long…I would say day, but it's been more like a long few months."

"I'm sure. And I'm sorry about your mother."

"Thank you," I whisper. "She was my best friend."

Once again, his knuckles caress along my jawline and then his hand moves to cup my chin. "You're going to be okay, Hannah. From now on, everything is going to be okay. I promise."

"Why do you care?" I can't help but ask the question.

"I don't know," he answers honestly and shrugs. "But, I do."

I'm not sure how long we stare at each other before I say, "Can I ask you another question."

He nods.

"Why did you spend so much money to buy me—er, my virginity—and you don't want to sleep with me?"

His green eyes darken a shade. "I never said I don't want to sleep with you," he says in a low, gruff voice and my pulse thunders madly in my ears. "But I won't take something that isn't freely given. And I've never paid for sex."

"Oh," I simply say, not sure how exactly to respond to that. Then, before I even realize what's happening, Vin leans in and lightly presses his lips against mine. The kiss is over before I can even process it.

"Go to sleep, Hannah," Vin says softly. "You're safe."

When he pulls his hand away, I immediately miss its warmth. With a nod, I scoot backwards and crawl under the covers. I don't even have the energy to go to the bathroom. Even though I'm in a hotel room with a complete stranger, it only takes me a few minutes to fall asleep. Because some part of me knows that I can trust Vin with my life, that he'd never harm me. Only protect me. My savior.

At some point, the mattress beside me sinks and I know he's lying down, too. And, I've never felt so very safe or slept so soundly in my entire life.