“It’s not a big deal, okay?” he says, but it’s kind of a big deal for me.
“I don’t want you to pay my way, Roman.” The truth is, while I appreciate him wanting me to live in comfort—because he has some obligation to my brother—I don’t want to rely on anyone. Outside of my brother, I can’t ever let myself get used to someone else caring for me. Self-preservation has taught me to rely only on my small family of two. I just can’t set myself up for that kind of heartache. I don’t think I could survive being chewed up and spit out again—especially not by this man.
His head dips and those dark eyes of his narrow on me. His smile is slow and sincere. My stomach tightens as the hardness in his dark eyes melts, reminding me of a steaming mug of hot chocolate on a cold winter’s night—the kind of warmth that comes close to thawing the chill in my bones, but never quite succeeds.
“Okay,” he says. “You can pay me back.”
I nod and my tightly strung muscles relax, slightly. “Good.”
“Can we go to bed now?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Roman
PEYTON’S GREEN EYES widen at my slip and I quickly backtrack. “I mean, we should get some sleep. It’s been a long day. Tomorrow will be busy for you. You have to meet the children, the teachers and the school’s principal, and we need to be ready to make a good impression.” Okay, Roman, you can stop rambling any time now, and while you’re at it stop picturing Peyton naked.
“True,” she says, and pushes her hair from her face to expose the pink flush on her cheeks. “Sleep is a good idea. Which room do you want?” she asks as we head inside. She starts down the narrow stairs and I follow behind.
“Why don’t you take the master suite,” I say, the room I normally take when I come to Malta to unwind. If I told her I owned this place, that my family owns many villas on Malta, it might set off another argument, and I’d have to quiet her with a kiss, which can’t happen again. Her brother is my best friend. That doesn’t stop my dick from hardening at the thought of kissing her a second time today. “I’m fine in the smaller room.”
She nods and glances at me over her shoulder, her jaw set, a stubbornness about her. “I do plan to pay you back, Roman.”
I smile, liking that about her. Not her stubborn streak—that’s just plain annoying—but I like that she’s a girl who wants to pay her own way through life, even when she doesn’t have to. She’s always refusing her brother’s financial help, and this is my villa—already bought and paid for.
“I know you do,” I say quietly.
“I just...it might take a while.”
“Or we could find another form of payment,” I say, and when she reaches the landing her gaze flies to mine. No doubt she’s thinking I’m talking sexual favors here. I’m not. I want her to want me regardless of what I do for her. Wait, no, I don’t want her to want me. What am I thinking?
Dammit.
“Such as?”
“You could cook for me.” I rub my stomach as I remember Cason’s amazing seafood pasta. “If you cook anything like your brother, then that’s all the payment I need.”
“I’m a good cook,” she says, and folds her arms across her body, a small quiver going through her. I make a mental note to adjust the air-conditioning. “I actually enjoy being in the kitchen.”
“I hate it.”
She glances down and a small smile touches her lips, like she’s remembering happier times. “Cason and I did a lot of cooking together.” She chuckles lightly. “I used to wear swimming goggles when I cut up onions. That always cracked him up.”
I laugh. “Really?”
“Yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “I was a weirdo. You don’t have to say it.”
“Nah, not a weirdo. That’s genius-level intellect, my friend.”
She chuckles and it curls around me, warms my soul. I like seeing her smile. I’d love to see her do it more often, but the world has not given this sweet girl much to smile about over the years.
She puts her hand on me and gives me a little shove. “You don’t have to be a smart-ass.”
“I’m serious, and you’re the smart-ass, not me.” I join her on the landing and throw an arm around her shoulders, nudging her chin with my fist. “No, I’m the one who’s older and wiser, so you’re going to have to trust me on that.”
Her body tightens beneath my arm, and that’s when I realize just how close I’ve pulled her, just how nicely her body fits with mine.
“I... I don’t really trust too many people, Roman,” she admits, a heaviness overtaking her as her eyes narrow, and I could kick myself. I didn’t mean to dredge up demons from her past.
I give her a comforting squeeze before I pull my arm back. “I know. I don’t either,” I say, not wanting her to feel alone in this. “Not anymore, anyway.”
She shakes her head, a bit of the tightness in her muscles gone. “I guess that’s one thing we have in common.”
“What a pair we make. You’ll cook for me, then?”
She waves one hand around the long hallway. “You’re here in Malta, away from your work, your friends and your beloved New York, helping me get a job. Cooking is the least I could do, don’t you think?”
“It’s a nice break from reality for a while and for the record, none of this is a hardship, Peyton.” Nope, not a hardship at all. But that’s not to say it’s not hard, and when I say hard, I’m talking about my dick, of course.
She laughs. “Funny, Carly said something like that to me yesterday. She also told me I should be exercising my marital rights, pretend marriage or not.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, her eyes widen. “I didn’t mean... I wasn’t suggesting we should do that.” She gives a fast shake of her head. “That was before I even knew it was you, anyway.”
“You mean you considered it before you knew it was me.”
“No,” she blurts out, a little too quickly. With the tip of her finger she pokes my chest and I wish to God she’d stop touching me. “Now that I do know, that’s not happening. Ever.”
“Yeah, we’re not going to do that,” I agree. I’m only going to think about doing it, repeatedly, while using my hand.
She exhales, and that’s when I realize how weary she looks. She pushes her hair from her face. “I don’t even know why I said it.”
“You’re tired,” I say, giving her an out.