I nod before shutting the door behind me, leaving her in the room. For a moment, I lean against the cool wood, hoping it will calm the storm raging within me, but it’s no use. I sigh, making my way to my bedroom to grab the sweats and tee for her. Just the thought of her draped in my clothes has my body aching. But I tamp it down and grab the items.
When I return to her, she’s not in the room, but I notice the bathroom door is shut, and I hear the shower. Setting the clothing on the bed, I leave, heading straight for the living room and the whiskey bottle awaiting me. My body is tense, my shoulders tight with the awareness of her presence.
I haven’t been alone with a woman in this house since Shay, and the thought of Nea sleeping only a couple of doors down from me has me on edge. I sip my drink, opening the patio doors to clear the air in the house. Being such an old building, I find that at times it feels claustrophobic, but perhaps it has something to do with the dark-haired beauty.
I settle on the bench overlooking the vast gardens. With my mind not entirely here, I don’t hear Nea coming out since she’s barefoot. Feeling her presence is what has me turning my head, and my breath gets caught in my throat.
She’s practically drowning in my clothes, and her wet hair makes her look like she’s been caught in the rain. Her skin is a soft pink from what I’m guessing was hot water from the shower, her cheeks rosy, and her plump lips full and inviting. I want to feel them once more, but I’d love to also see them wrapped around my dick.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask after clearing my throat.
She smiles, and my chest tightens. She’s utterly breathtaking. “Yes, please,” she tells me as she settles on the bench, folding her legs underneath her ass.
I hand her my glass. “Hold this. I’ll grab something for you. Any preference?”
She lifts the tumbler to her nose and scrunches it. “Anything but this,” she tells me, making me laugh out loud. I nod and head back into the house with my mind racing a million miles a minute.
Chapter 15
Nea
When Julian returns, he’s carrying a large glass of white wine. Thankfully. I’m not a massive fan of hard liquor, so the thought of drinking what he’s had makes me tense. He hands me the glass, but there’s something flitting in his gaze as he takes me in once more.
“You look good in those,” he tells me as he settles beside me on the bench.
“Yeah, thankfully, I don’t look like a drowning whale,” I tell him without thinking, but my head snaps up when he laughs out loud. The sound vibrating through me. It’s a genuine smile on his face, which warms my chest. “Sorry, that’s what Phee and I used to say.”
“Phee?”
“Phoebe, my best friend. She’s still in Italy for another two weeks or so,” I tell him. “She followed me out there and then ended up with a longer internship than I had.”
“What made you come back? I mean, Rome is gorgeous.”
I sip my drink, pondering that because if I had to be honest, I could’ve stayed another few months. But instead, here I am, sitting on a porch with my new boss drinking wine while wearing his clothes.
“I needed to be here,” I tell him finally. “My mother was raised in New Orleans; she grew up on these streets, and I needed to connect with her. Being in Rome was magical, but deep down, I knew I had to find myself here.”
“I understand that. I think that’s why I never sold the house and gallery.” Julian’s words hold a certain sadness, one I’ve felt far too many times over the years since losing my mother. “Dad always told me one day I’d realize why he left the place to me.”
“Have you? Realized why?” I look at Julian over the rim of my glass, focusing on his expression as it changes from sadness to contemplation. And I notice that he really is breathtaking.
“I have.” His voice is rough, emotion lacing his words. “I needed to be here for you to arrive.” My heart skitters against my ribs at his confession, then he turns to me. “I have to be honest with you, Nea. When you first walked into my house last week, I didn’t think this would work.”
“And now?”
“Now, the only thing I can think about day and night is kissing you, but that’s unprofessional, and I always try to be a good person.”
“Even when you’re a grumpy asshole?” I counter, the question causing him to chuckle. I decide I like that sound, and I want to hear more of it.
“Even then.” He nods in agreement. Somehow, I think he’s come to terms with who he is, and I respect that. Pain makes us who we are, and if we can’t accept it, then we’ll never be fulfilled.
“So, I’m not fired?”
He snaps his gaze to mine, searching my face, possibly for an answer as to why I would ask him that. “What on earth would make you think I would fire you?”
“For my insolence, and for answering back, but I can’t not speak up when I feel I need to.”
“You speak your mind, Nea.” He smiles that stupid smile again, and my heart pitter-patters in my chest. “I can respect that because I wouldn’t want a doormat to run my gallery. And to be honest, you did an incredible job setting the event up. If I fired you, I’d be shooting myself in the foot.”
“So, you’re keeping me around then?” I arch a brow at Julian, and I can’t help but grin at the smirk he’s offering me. My stomach flutters from the
