18. Chapter 18

18

I laria climbed the stairs to her room, thoughts occupied by blue-gray eyes, a carved jaw, and thick, dark hair. She shut the door to her room, turned on the fireplace for ambiance, and eased herself into the off-white fabric sofa. She kicked off her heels and tucked her legs in.

After Galen and Soren left, she had also begged off, feeling the need for solitude. Arick and Niema took off to meet friends at a club, and Caelum headed to the private library to settle in with a book.

She was confused. About Soren. That was the appropriate way to describe it.

Two years ago, he was downright cruel in saying he wasn't interested in her. Earlier today, he reiterated that again, to the point of telling her to accept it like a mature adult and get over it.

That stung, but she acknowledged his point and made an active decision to move past it.

But his expression—almost like hunger—when she came down the stairs for dinner didn't jibe with his words. And the brief but intense look they shared at the end of dinner—his eyes gleaming and dark—belied his statements.

A video call alert sounded on her phone, interrupting her brooding. It was Noe and Emmy.

Ilaria accepted, and the faces of her two best friends popped onto her screen.

"What are you doing, picking up?" Noe demanded. "Why aren't you out?" His eyes widened. "Is that a bed behind you? Don't tell me you're settling in for the night at…what time is it over there—" He looked at his watch and did a quick mental calculation. "—9 o'clock at night." He looked appalled.

She chuckled. "Hi, guys, miss you."

"You doin' okay?" Emmy asked. "We miss you, too."

"I'm pretty good, mostly," she said. "We just had dinner, and I felt like having some alone time. It's been a long and hectic day."

"You look great, at least, from the shoulders up," Emmy encouraged.

"You look hot, so you should be out showing off your hotness," Noe groused. "But okay, since it's your first night there I'll let it pass."

"Thanks, Noe," Ilaria said, "for being so generous."

Noe laughed.

"So, tell us what's happened so far," Emmy pushed.

"Where do I even start…?" In one long breath, Ilaria told them about the drive from the airport, being saved by Soren, and saying goodbye to her parents.

Her best friends stared at her for several long moments. "I have so many questions I don't even know where to begin," Noe said.

"I'll start," Emmy declared. "Someone tried to kill you?" Her voice rose into a slight screech.

"He was most likely the guy who killed my parents," she admitted. "But we have some theories and I'm coming up with a plan."

"Jesus." Noe still looked speechless which was very atypical for him. "Can you get a bodyguard or something? I'd really hate for something else to happen to you out there."

Ilaria grimaced. "Galen insisted that Soren accompany me when I leave the house."

"Babysit?" Noe translated. "Soren's going to babysit you?"

She nodded. "Pretty much."

Her friends went silent again, working out the implications in their heads. A small grin appeared on Emmy's face. "Well, maybe that's not such a bad idea. You know, for safety purposes," she added hurriedly when Ilaria started to object.

"By the way, do you have a recent picture of him?" Noe asked. "I bet he's even hotter now that he's a mature man."

Ilaria rolled her eyes but forwarded the group photo Niema had insisted on at the start of dinner.

"Holy hotness," Noe exclaimed.

"My goodness, be still my heart," Emmy added, fanning herself.

Ilaria couldn't help but laugh but squeezed the bridge of her nose in dismay. "Now you understand what my problem is, right? I'm trying to get him out of my mind. But how am I supposed to do that when he looks like that ?"

"Sleep with him, sweetie," Noe declared. Noe's solution to almost everything was to have sex. "Just sleep with him and get him out of your system."

"I tried, remember?" she said. "He didn't want me."

Emmy frowned. "That makes absolutely no sense. I mean, he has working eyes, doesn't he? He's seen you."

"At lunch today, he told me I wasn't used to being rejected and that I should get over what happened," Ilaria said. "Granted, I was being snippy all morning."

"What a jerk," Emmy breathed.

"Asshole," Noe agreed.

"But in a way, he was right," she mused. "I've spent the last two years hating him. And where has it gotten me? So I'm letting it go once and for all." She paused, reflecting. "And yet, he was staring at me throughout dinner. And at the end, he gave me this look…" She trailed off.

"Like he wanted to tear your clothes off?" Noe supplied.

"Like he wanted to kiss you senseless and worship your body?" Emmy was the romantic one of the group.

"Exactly." Ilaria was relieved her friends understood. "That's why I'm so confused. What he says doesn't match how he looks at me." She threw up her hands in frustration. "Or maybe I'm just interpreting his looks completely wrong." She shook her head. "Yeah, maybe that's it. He's just concerned that I'm eating enough. And he gave me that hug at the morgue because I was crying."

"Aww, he gave you a hug?" Emmy swooned.

"It was probably just a friendly thing to do," Ilaria pointed out.

Noe's eyes were narrowed. "He's conflicted," he decided. "He's attracted to you but is trying to push you away, for whatever reasons."

"Ugh," Ilaria grumbled. "I'm tired of trying to guess his intentions. And if he's conflicted, he needs to keep me out of it. I'm not interested in playing games."

"Yeah…" Noe hedged. "Sounds great and all. The problem is, you have feelings for him."

Ilaria put her face in her hands. "Goddammit."

There was no use denying it anymore. Soren made her feel things, things she had never felt for anyone else. She'd had a crush on him since they were teenagers, which she expected to fade over time. But her crush only grew stronger.

Which was why she had been thrilled when he kissed her, she admitted to herself now. And why his rejection had shattered her, so much so that she held onto that bitterness for too long.

"I sure know how to pick ‘em," she muttered.

"What are you going to do?" Emmy asked in a sympathetic tone.

Ilaria considered for a moment. She despised indecision and lost respect for people who couldn't make up their minds. Decide what you want and then go after it, or else let it go without regrets. That was what she lived by.

Maybe Soren was conflicted. But she could only go by what he said to her, what he wanted her to believe. She refused to attach any meaning to his intense gazes. And from his words alone, he was not attracted to her, had rejected her advances, and she needed to take responsibility for her life and move on.

"I'm going to move on," she decided. "I don't pine after anyone."

"There you go," Emmy cheered.

"Yeah, fuck him," Noe added. "Ilaria Carosi pines for no man!"

They all laughed.

"I'm sorry, we've only been talking about me," Ilaria apologized. "Noe, how's your client campaign going?"

His face brightened. "Well, since you asked…the campaign is killing it. We should be hitting the client's revenue goals any day now."

"I'm so proud of you," Ilaria cheered. "Promotion, here comes Noe."

He pretended to bow. "Thank you, thank you. When you get back, I'll get the official news, and then we can celebrate."

"Not that you haven't already been unofficially celebrating," Emmy said with a sly smile.

"Celebrating how?" Ilaria asked.

Noe waved his hand in dismissal. "It's no big deal. I just met someone last week."

"And you've gone out with him three times," Emmy filled in. "Including a sleepover."

Ilaria's eyes widened. Noe rarely went out with anyone a second time, insisting that the bachelor life was more suited for him. "Wow, he must be special."

"Would you look at the time," Noe interrupted. "It is really late in Scotland. You really should get some rest."

Ilaria and Emmy gave each other knowing grins.

"Fine, but we're revisiting this when I'm back home," Ilaria insisted. She changed the subject. "Emmy, you look a little tired. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I've just been working a lot," she grumbled. "The brother of my boss has been in town, and he's a slave driver. Not even sure why I'm doing more work for him than for my actual boss."

Emmy worked as an executive assistant to the CEO at an interior design firm. She had a degree in interior design but had taken this job as a way to earn money and learn the business.

"Maybe because he's hot and you can't say no to him," Noe supplied helpfully.

Emmy rubbed her eyes. "He is…pretty good-looking."

"And rich," Noe added with a grin.

"But he's downright rude which makes him very unattractive," Emmy frowned. Emmy was the sweetest person Ilaria knew and didn't even like to label others in a critical way. So this guy must have been a real jerk for her best friend to consider him rude.

"Why don't you tell Bennett that his brother is asking you to do work that's not even yours?" Ilaria suggested.

"Because he hires me to solve problems, not complain about them," Emmy groused. "I'll give it to the end of the week and then I'll say something if it doesn't get better." Her face brightened. "And when you get back, hopefully we'll all have something to celebrate."

"I think I'll head home the day after tomorrow," Ilaria thought out loud. "I've already talked to Galen and worked through the logistics of getting my parents' bodies home. I've done what I came here to do."

"Then it'll be the start of your new life," Noe said.

"A better life," Emmy piped in. "And we'll support you all the way."

"You guys are the best," Ilaria sniffled. "I love you."

"Love you," her friends echoed. "See you soon."

Ilaria hung up and immediately logged into her account to move up her flight return. Then, feeling as if she was finally taking control of her life, she changed into her pajamas and settled into the plush bed with the latest ebook loaded into her phone. Even though her own romantic life was mostly nonexistent, she was still a sucker for happily ever afters.

She read through a third of the book and realized she still wasn't tired, partly because she was still on Chicago time and partly because the book was too juicy to stop. She got to a steamy scene and slowly savored it, feeling twinges of desire in her nether regions.

When was the last time she had orgasmed? Not even with a partner, which was so long ago it was embarrassing, but by herself. Too long ago that she couldn't even remember. And reading these books wasn't helping when she didn't have her own Prince Charming to satisfy her desires.

She grumbled as she sat up in bed, reaching for her water. Empty. Maybe after she got some cold water she'd be tired by then.

Ilaria crept down the stairs in a pair of flip-flops, then laughed at herself, feeling slightly ridiculous that she was trying to be quiet. Everyone else was likely still up and out of the house.

The kitchen was dark other than a nightlight above the stove. It was enough to see her way around. She went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of cold water. She opened it and took a long drink, feeling her body relax.

The full moon illuminating the pool was bright, and with the ambient light throughout the patio and pool deck, Ilaria felt herself relax even more.

"Why are you still awake?"

She spun around. Soren. Dammit.

He had changed from his outfit at dinner. Fitted black T-shirt that molded to his broad shoulders. Green tactical cargo pants belted around his trim waist. Heavy black boots. A light sweat on his face and forearms. He looked as if he had taken care of some business. He looked dangerous.

Meanwhile, she was in her usual pajama outfit: braless under a small, cropped gray t-shirt and white cropped shorts. She felt small and vulnerable, and yet a tiny grain of pure excitement thrummed through her.

He walked into the kitchen and stood on the other side of the island counter, seemingly taking up all the space. His eyes gleamed, his brows furrowed, and he didn't look pleased to see her.

Ilaria considered making an unintelligible sound and walking out quickly to avoid conversation. Then she felt a flash of annoyance. Only he could make jet lag sound as if it were her fault. And anyway, she was here first.

She lifted her chin. "Couldn't sleep. Needed water. Now going to bed." She turned toward the exit, mentally patting herself on the back for keeping it short but polite. Moving on, she reminded herself.

Soren smoothly walked around the island, long strides allowing him to intercept her, standing three feet in front of her.

She sighed. "What is it, MacGregor? You harped on me earlier about sleep, and that's what I'm trying to do now."

She watched his eyes slowly roam down her body and back up. In the dim lighting, she knew it was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra, but she didn't care. His eyes met hers again. If anything, he looked even more annoyed now.

"What are you wearing?" he growled.

Her annoyance was quickly escalating into anger. "Clothes," she snapped. "If you don't like what you see then just leave. Better yet, I'll leave." She went to step around him but he snaked out a hand and circled her arm. A charge shot through her entire body.

Calm down. Don't read more than what's there.

"Ilaria." His voice was raspy. A muscle clenched in his jaw.

She glanced down at his hand. Then she looked up at his face and her breath caught. Slate-gray eyes pinned her to the spot, and she couldn't move, couldn't think. A distant alarm in the back of her head sounded urgently, but nothing else registered. Only his eyes blazing a path of heat on her face, his sinful lips moving closer to hers, and his masculine scent dissolving all reason.

No. She would not be the one humiliated again, interpreting desire in his gazes and actions only to be told she was wrong.

"What do you want, Soren?" She hardened her voice to cover up the shakiness.

He blinked, the desire in his gaze banking slightly, then cleared his throat. "I…just want to say that I'm glad to see you safe. Despite my earlier words, which may have been harsher than necessary, I really do care about you."

Ilaria's eyebrows raised. "As friends, you mean?"

His eyes narrowed, and he watched her for a moment, assessing. She didn't blink. He gave a curt nod in agreement.

As friends, there was no need to touch her. She dragged her arm out of his grasp and stepped back two paces.

"Thank you, I appreciate you telling me that," she responded, her voice even. "I care about you as well. As friends. Just like I care about Niema, Caelum, and Arick. I want the best for all of you."

Something passed over Soren's face, which he schooled into impassiveness. He nodded. "I didn't mean to hurt you. The last time you were here."

Ilaria tilted her head as she studied him. The man had an expert poker face. Probably why he was so good at his job. "You were right, though." A spur of the moment decision to be brutally honest. She was sick of the games and no longer wanted to play.

His brows quirked up a fraction.

"I'm not used to rejection." Her tone was matter-of-fact. "I resented you for too long. But, as you said, it's time for me to take responsibility for my part in what happened."

His eyes grew darker as he frowned.

"So I'm listening to you, for once," she continued lightly. "I'm letting it go and moving on."

He scowled even harder.

"That's what we both want, isn't it?" She paused to let it sink in.

Soren continued to stare at her, not answering.

"Well, I'm off to bed." Ilaria stepped around him.

"Ilaria." His tone had a warning ring to it.

She spun toward him, chest tight. She laid a hand on his forearm. "Soren, I'm beat. I assume that whatever else you want to say isn't urgent, or you would have said it by now." Her voice sounded calmer than what she was feeling. "Which means it can be said tomorrow, in the light of day."

His eyes dimmed. He stepped back to let her pass, raking his hand through his hair. Frustration was evident in his posture, his face. "Good night, then."

"Good night." She forced herself to walk calmly up the stairs. When she got to her room and shut the door behind her, she realized she was shaking.

Thatta girl, she congratulated herself, taking several deep breaths. Moving on.

But sleep was a long time in coming.

***

Nerves frazzled, Soren leaned a hand on the wall of the shower and let the hot water run over his back.

He had not expected to run into Ilaria when he got home, half dressed, and in fact was half hoping she would have run out of the room immediately once she saw him.

But she didn't. Didn't look afraid, and even gave him snark. So he stopped her from leaving, wanting to be near her. Torturing himself.

He knew he was being an idiot, saying one thing and doing another. She was the only one who had this effect on him. Nowhere else in his life were his feelings and actions so uncontrolled.

And she had taken his words to heart, to his chagrin, apparently making a decision, drawing a line in the sand. It was the right thing for both of them, but he hated it.

Resigning himself to his fate, and feeling great contempt for himself, he fisted his cock and stroked himself quickly. When his release came, he muffled any sound and wouldn't allow himself the satisfaction of even a grunt.