Cross Her Heart

{CAMILLA}

I woke up wrapped in a cloud of female.

The scent triggered images I couldn't untangle—confusing blurs of Italian women, dark street corners, and someone's protective embrace.

I smiled into the downy pillow and stretched my toes, surprised when they didn't bump the bed frame.

My leg stuck out from the blankets. Cold stung my knee.

I dove into the sheets that glided on my skin like silk. It was a furnace under the comforter.

What made it an oven?

I inched closer to the warmth, rolling into a woman's body.

I moved Vittorio's arm aside, squirmed onto her, and nuzzled her neck.

She was so warm, and she smelled incredible.

I picked up a clean and intimate scent, almost like white musk, instead of the usual perfumed laundry detergent.

Did she use a cologne—or was this her scent, and I'd never noticed before?

Strange.

Whatever it was, the intoxicating essence clung to her pillow.

I felt across the broad panes of her chest as my arousal sharpened.

Damn, had she been working out?

I stroked her back and swept to her jaw and chin.

She inhaled through her nose, a shallow noise. Then she released the breath with a deep groan that reverberated between my legs.

Her hand wrapped around my waist.

She slipped under my pants and brushed the swell of my ass. Then she squeezed.

Hot.

I wanted more. I pressed my mouth into her sinewy neck, her sharp jaw line, and then I pushed into her thick hair. When I nibbled her ear, she let out a short, sharp inhale.

Sexy as fuck.

I had to do it again.

A pleased sound vibrated into me. When did Vittorio turn into a feral?

Why did the scent of her make me giddy?

I kissed her throat. "I had the craziest dream." 

"Was it about me?"

Giovanna.

Her body. Her sheets. Her bed.

I stiffened as the images from last night arranged themselves.

Zip ties burned at the forefront of my brain.

I lifted my head, no longer trapped in a happy bubble of safety. She'd taken me captive, and I'd willingly snuggled beside her.

What was wrong with me?

Giovanna sprawled underneath me. Her olive skin flushed where I'd kissed her.

I ripped from her before I tamed my reaction.

Hazel slits opened as she rolled over and settled inches away. A sleepy smile staggered across her lips when she took me in, curled in a protective ball.

Oh my God. 

"Get back here."

My insides blackened at the fact I'd groped her. 

"I didn't mean to—I thought you—when did you get naked?"

Giovanna's grin widened. She pushed herself upright with a yawn.

I shoved myself to the other side of the bed, heart hammering.

"I'm wearing boxers."

The comforter fell off her shoulders as she revealed a sculpted frame that I never could've mistaken for Vittorio's.

Giovanna had a hundred times the sex appeal, especially with mussed hair and a husky voice. It was deep with exhaustion.

I'd slept with her.

I searched my surroundings. The bag and all its contents were gone.

Giovanna slipped from bed, a Greek goddess compared to Vittorio. Corded muscle rippled down her arms.

She flashed me a smile so disarming I fisted the sheets.

"I'm taking a shower. You're welcome to join."

No fucking way.

I was too frazzled to respond, but Giovanna didn't hang around. She headed into another room, where I could still see her.

Light bounced off charcoal floors as she faced the mirror. Water poured as she turned the faucet. She splashed her face and scratched her hair, her eyes struggling to open.

I admired the muscles rippling along her back, the seductive line riding her spine, and the two gorgeous dimples just above her ass.

She thumbed her boxers, the fabric dragging over her hips. Oh, she was perfectly proportioned.

Why the hell was I scoping her body?

I ripped my gaze from Giovanna.

The whirlwind of images pieced together as I swung my legs over the mattress.

She slept with me, but she must've crawled out because her slacks weren't on the floor. I couldn't find my backpack.

I stood.

A pressing question hammered my skull. Even if it gutted me, I had to know.

I followed Giovanna into a luxurious bathroom with gray tiles and white marble walls. His and hers sinks touched the left side, from which a window flooded with light.

A claw-foot tub sat on the right, and ahead, fogged glass. The nude outline of Giovanna flitted in and out of view. I glimpsed a thigh and a long, hanging shadow that sucked in my breath.

"Are you a voyeur, or do you want something?"Her voice echoed above the steam, inviting me forward.

I didn't touch a stitch of my clothes as I approached. Working up the nerve to confront a naked Giovanna was a fucking challenge.

I opened the door.

Giovanna had braced herself against the stone as the spray hit her head.

She looked different underwater. More alive with the blossoming red cheeks and neck where heat kissed her tanned skin.

When the cold draft blew in, she noticed me. Her lips curled into a tight smile, as though I kept surprising her in ways that pleased her.

"Camilla. You're overdressed." She faced me, close enough to taste the water clinging to her mouth. "Come in."

"Where were you last night?"

"Take off your clothes, and I'll answer."

"Don't play games with me. Where did you go?"

"We're not married yet. What's with the interrogation?" 

"Where did you go?"

Giovanna sighed. "Vittorio's."

She's gone.

My hand slipped.

I thought of Vittorio's welcoming arms, her kind eyes, the characteristics I admired—they'd vanished. She was dead because I visited her for twenty minutes. While I slept, Giovanna had murdered her. She'd warned me.

This was my fault.

How would I live with myself?

"After everything I told you?" Hurt laced every syllable as I ground my fingers into the glass. "How could you?"

"Camilla, relax."

"You killed her. I explained how devastated I was by violence, and you did it anyway. Are you that sick and broken? Fuck me, you are. Aren't you?"

"No."

"That's all you have to say?"

"No, I didn't kill her. I taught her a fucking lesson." 

"You're full of shit."

"Call her if you like, but don't expect her to respond. I gave her very explicit details on what would happen if she contacted you. This is for her own sake as much as yours. If you'd cared about her, you should've used your vibrator."

The relief pouring in almost buckled my knees before that final sentence chased it away.

"You're revolting."

"That might be more believable if I didn't wake up to your hands on me." 

"I thought some celebrity had slipped into my bed."

"Meaning, I'm as hot as an international sports star." 

I growled.

She laughed, her dimples widening. She allowed the spray to hit her neck, and I wished I were the drops trailing the lean muscle that seemed to extend all the way—

I snapped to her knowing grin. "Last night, I was weak. Lonely."

"Well, I can help with that." Giovanna jerked her head, inviting me inside. "I'm serious. I don't want you to be lonely."

Her honeyed words were poison. "Join me."

"No."

"You're getting an eyeful of me. Time to return the favor." 

"I can't."

"It's only fair. Come in. I'll make you feel so damn good you'll forget you hate me."

"Giovanna, I'm not—I'm not ready."

Water made rivers on the glass as she palmed the wall, her voice low and earnest. "I won't touch you. Promise."

I saw myself ripping off my shirt and climbing into the steam, but I wasn't prepared for her touching my naked skin. "Somehow, I don't believe you."

She dragged a finger over her chest, a chill riding my spine when the gesture took on a double meaning.

Cross her heart.

Hope to die.