His eyes flick to me again, then back to the road. “Right now I’m overwhelmed because you’re making me feel things I’ve never experienced before.”
Is that good or bad?
Before I can ask, he continues to say, “I’m really trying to be gentler with you, but I can’t change who I am.”
Not sure what he’s saying, I give him a questioning look, but he doesn’t see it, so I ask, “What do you mean?”
“I have an image to uphold in my world. If I show any sign of weakness, I’m dead. My work demands that I be brutal at all times.”
I’m still a little confused, but I don’t mention it. While Enzo was talking, it popped into my mind that he’s not from here, so I ask, “Where is your home?”
“I don’t have one, but I have many houses all over the world. I’m from Portugal, though, and spend a lot of time in Lisbon.”
My tongue darts out to wet my lips and worry creeps into my heart. “What will happen when you go back to Portugal?”
Earlier today, after Enzo swept me off my feet and kissed me, I fell in love with him. The brand-new emotions scare me because I don’t want to lose them, but I have no power over anything where Enzo is concerned.
“You come with me.”
His reply has my jaw going slack. “What?”
“I’m taking you with me, Jenna. I thought I made this clear the past two days.” Enzo’s eyes meet mine, and there’s so much authority in his tone, it almost makes me reply, ‘Yes, sir.’
“But…” I stare at him as my heart starts beating faster. “Really?”
“Where I go, you go.” He brings the SUV to a stop, and it’s only then that I realize we’re in front of a big building. “We’ll talk more once we’ve checked in.”
Checked in? Where?
Enzo gets out of the vehicle, and as I take off my seat belt, he walks around the front and says something to a man who’s approaching the SUV before he opens my door.
I climb out and glance around us, trying to figure out where exactly we are.
Enzo takes my hand, and as we walk toward the entrance, and I see other people inside, I lower my head and move a littlecloser to him. My heart begins to beat faster as my anxiety spikes from being out in public.
We stop at a long counter where a man says, “Welcome. Do you have a reservation?”
Enzo’s tone is biting as he replies, “Oliveira.”
“Mr. Oliveira! Your suite is ready.” I peek through my bangs and watch as the man picks up two cards and says, “This way.”
I take hold of Enzo’s arm and practically strangle it as we walk to an elevator, and when we step inside, I try to hide partially behind him.
“Your room is number ten-twenty. Just scan this keycard and it–”
“I know what to do,” Enzo says. “Give me the cards. You don’t have to come up with us.”
“Oh.” When the man gets out again, Enzo presses for the doors to close. “Enjoy your stay, and if you need anything…” The rest of the man’s sentence is cut off when the doors shut.
The elevator goes all the way to the top, and when it opens, Enzo leads me to our suite, where he scans the card. He pushes the door open, and as we go inside, my lips part on a gasp.
Holy cow. It’s an entire apartment!
“I just want to take a break for half an hour, then we can go shopping,” Enzo says, his tone gentle again.
He lets go of my hand and walks to the kitchen, where a bottle of champagne stands beside a basket of fruit and nuts.
“Do you want some?” he asks, as he begins to open the bottle. The cork pops, and when he pours some of the bubbly liquid into one of the glasses, he glances at me. “Jenna?”
