26. Zola

Chapter 26

Zola

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. My arm flailed out and hit something unfamiliar. My eyes snapped open and the fog of sleep disappeared. Ah, I was in London, in a hotel room.

Last night I did … um … things with Dante.

I hadn’t been completely drunk but at the same time I hadn’t been completely sober so I could very clearly recall the extent to which we went. There had been no penetration though.

The phone continued its shrill ring. I ran my gaze across the room in search of it and realized it was probably in my jacket. I rolled out of bed and made my way towards it.

“Where the hell are you?” Antoine demanded the moment I picked up. “I was about to send the police after you.”

“Don’t do that,” I said as I sat back against the headboard.

“What do you expect me to do when you suddenly disappear and refuse to answer my call?”

“You’ve only just called,” I pointed out.

“And I’ve sent you a bazillion texts.”

“I was asleep. Switch to video, I need to multitask,” I said, taking the phone with me to the bathroom. His worried face filled the screen.

“Where are you anyway?” Antoine asked.

“London.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“It’s a long story,” I replied, as I positioned the phone against the vanity mirror. I put a T-shirt on and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked like a hot mess.

“Tell it.”

“Let me brush my teeth first,” I said as I grabbed a toothbrush.

“No, tell me, and then brush your teeth while I ponder on how to fix your bad decisions.”

This made me smile so I obliged, and by the time I was done, he had both eyebrows raised.

“Hold on,” he got up and took the phone with him as he went to the kitchen. “I need a snack for this.”

He retrieved a tub of ice cream and jabbed a spoon in.

“That’s communal,” I reminded.

“It was two days ago, but not anymore now that you’ve run off to London,” he reminded.

Grabbing my toothbrush, I began to squeeze toothpaste across the bristles.

“So technically, you didn’t have sex.”

“Isn’t oral sex, sex?” I asked.

“Nope. Penetration is sex. Everything else is foreplay. For instance, this is the first thing I’m having since I got up, but is this a meal or is it dessert? The fact that it’s going into my mouth the same way that breakfast will doesn’t make it a meal.”

“It’s too early in the morning,” I groaned.

But then he kept staring at me with an odd smile on his face.

“What?” I asked defensively.

“I’m glad,” he said.

“Well, as you said, it is nothing without penetration,” I countered.

“Are you going to return in his jet or go commercial? I still can’t believe you flew in a jet or that you know someone who has one and I wasn't invited. I feel betrayed.”

I smiled. “I’m sorry, but you can’t be anywhere around me right now.”

“But he can?”

“Yes. He has guns.”

“And a thick dick apparently.” He shoved ice cream into his mouth while I cringed.

“Please stop. My head is still a bit sore,” I pleaded.

But he was having a blast. “Can you send a picture next time? You know I’m an expert at dick adjudication.”

“You're ridiculous,” I said and began to brush my teeth.

He laughed. “On a serious note, how are things going to be between you two from now on? I recall he wasn’t exactly your favorite person.”

“He still isn’t,” I muttered.

He shoved another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. “But he makes you feel safe.”

I spat and rinsed my toothbrush. “Yes. I don’t know why, but he does, otherwise, I would never have allowed him to come close to me for any reason.”

“I’ve always loved a good romance,” he said dreamily.

“Look, I have to go,” I said.

“Okay, honey, but keep me updated?”

I ended the call, ran a hairbrush through my hair, and headed into the shower. The warm water was soothing and I luxuriated in it a lot longer than I usually did. Wrapped in a big fluffy towel, I returned to my room, opened the thick drapes, and let in bright yellow sunshine.

Wow! How different the buildings outside were. There was a red phone booth below and people walking on the sidewalk. Suddenly, I was excited to explore this new city. Just then my phone pinged with a message from Dante.

I’ve sent one of my men up to your room to escort you down if you’re interested in joining me for breakfast.

Before I could answer, another message came in. It was from Antoine.

Don’t avoid him. He might be a good distraction for you.

I was still smiling at the message as I got dressed quickly. Indeed, one of his big burly men was standing outside the door as I emerged.

“Good morning,” I greeted.

He nodded politely and silently began to walk so I followed closely behind. It was an old hotel with great charm and a far cry from modern hotels. We arrived at the hotel’s restaurant, but to my surprise, we weren’t having breakfast with the other patrons. Instead, I was shown to a private area dotted by his men. And over in a corner overlooking London’s distinctive skyline was the current object of my distraction. With the sunshine behind him, he looked regal, his suit the color of cold steel, his eyes polished aquamarine, and his jaw stern.

There was nothing in his grim expression or mannerism that alluded to the memory of the whirlwind that happened between us last night. As I settled into the chair across from him, it was almost easier to convince myself it didn’t happen, that I’d dreamed it all than to convince myself it did.

Except for the swollen state of my sex.

And the craving. The crazy, uncontrollable craving for him. I finally had to admit to the aching need to finish what we started, preferably before we returned because then everything would return to grimness and desolation again. And having to deal with the dreaded idea of leaving everything I knew and starting all over again.

I pushed the painful thought away and tried my best to relax as I spread the napkin over my lap and perused the assortment of food on the table and cart beside us.

“This is a lot,” I said.

All of his attention was on me, and it was so intense my hand instinctively reached up to my hair. I’d changed my hairstyle into a half-up and half-down do. It wasn’t in its usual ponytail. I’d put on red lipstick for some life and color, and applied some mascara.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

God, even his voice made the air between us crash and burn.

“Good morning,” I mumbled, as I grabbed a croissant and two miniature apricot jam bottles. I cut the croissant in half and spread so much jam on it, that his eyes widened with surprise

“You’ll be heading out for some sightseeing?” he asked as he leaned back and lifted his cup of coffee to his lips.

“Yes, I was planning to. It should be okay, shouldn’t it? We’re in London and no one knows I’m here. Except Antoine.”

He frowned and his eyes were suddenly sharp as they slid to me.

I took a bite of my croissant and shook my head. “Don’t worry. I’ve known Antoine for years. He’d rather die than betray me.”

“Everything is under control and I’d like it to stay that way. We don’t want to put Antoine’s loyalty to the test,” he said, and the hardness in his tone sent chills down my spine.

I dabbed the corners of my mouth with my napkin. “So, can I, or can’t I go?”

“You can. Just let me know where you’d like to go and my men will take you there and keep watch over you.”

“Hang on,” I said. “I’m asking this out of pure curiosity, but don’t you need to be protected as well? Aren’t you at risk too? Ugo can attack you too, right?”

“He can,” he replied coldly, “but I can take care of myself.”

“Ah,” I replied sarcastically. “But I can’t.”

“Can you?”

Although my words had been laced with sarcasm, I couldn’t deny he had raised a very valid point. The undeniable truth was I couldn’t.

I pressed the croissant and watched the jam ooze out of it. “I hate the idea of being followed and watched, but if I have to be then could they not be too obvious? I’d really like to enjoy the city as much as I can since I don’t know when or if I’ll ever return.”

He lifted his cup to his lips once again. “Yes, I can arrange for them to be as unobtrusive as possible.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “And how much will this protection cost? Whatever their service costs, I'd like to pay for it. As well as my stay here.”

His eyes became chips of ice. He had retreated behind a cold wall, but his voice, when he spoke was even. “I’ll send all the relevant bills to you at the end of the trip.”

I felt confused. This was not the man who asked me to sit on his face. The man who let me come in his mouth. I took a deep breath. “Good. Thank you. I want to learn how to shoot properly. Take some basic lessons. Do you know any shooting ranges nearby?”

“There are none nearby, but yes it can be arranged,” he said. “I’ll test you when we return.”

I almost spilled the juice I had been lifting to my lips for a sip. “What?”

“I imagine they can't really teach you what you need to know. So go ahead and hear the basics and I’ll add to the lesson when I return tonight.”

What he said made sense, but I didn’t just want to agree to whatever he said.

I set the glass down and moved my attention to a chocolate muffin that seemed to have blueberries in it.

“Do you know where else you’d like to visit?” he asked.

“Not really,” I replied. “I thought maybe, London Bridge and Madame Tussauds. Or maybe just some shopping.”

I didn’t really want to go shopping but it might be a great way to pass the time. Maybe a coffee shop near Harrods?

“How long are we going to be here?” I asked.

“A week,” he replied.

His phone rang and he looked at it and said, “Please excuse me, I have to go.”

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

“No, there is no problem. Enjoy your day.”

I watched him walk away and felt so confused. We weren’t platonic strangers anymore, but his aloof behavior was as if last night never happened.

There was no way I could have made a dent in the food on the table. After tasting everything, I guiltily set my fork down. If only I could pack everything up and take it back to Antoine. With a sigh, I got to my feet and headed out to the entrance. Obviously, Dante had arranged security for me although I didn’t have any details about it.

But as soon as I emerged out from the hotel entrance, an SUV stopped right in front of me. A suited man got out and introduced himself before he opened the backdoor for me.

“We’ll take you to the gun range, Miss Leone,” he said.

“Oh, thank you,” I replied. I glanced back at the hotel, wondering if Dante had left for the day or if he was still around. I wouldn’t mind one more glimpse of him, but he’d probably already left.

I got into the car and began my first day in London.