Chapter 3 I Know You Want Me

VALENTINA

For the first time in my life, I had absolutely no idea what to say.

Roman was still crouched in front of me, his honey-colored eyes holding mine with an infuriating calmness that made me want to slap him and kiss him in equal measure.

Neither option was acceptable.

Especially the second one.

I swallowed hard.

"I'm your employer."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "I know."

"You're my bodyguard."

"I know that too."

"And I'm engaged."

That finally wiped the amusement from his face.

His gaze dropped briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes.

"I know, Valentina."

Hearing my first name roll off his tongue felt infinitely more intimate than it had any right to.

With him this close, I couldn't help noticing just how good-looking he was. I'd always known Roman was attractive, but staring at him from this distance was different.

Far too different.

There was something about the way his eyes held mine, the quiet confidence in his expression, the sheer proximity of him that made looking away feel almost impossible.

Even though I knew damn well I should.

I was supposed to walk away.

That was the obvious thing to do.

Stand up. Pull the towel into place. Walk out of the sauna. Call Evelyn. Fire Roman in the morning.

Simple.

Very simple.

Except my body refused to cooperate.

Roman's eyes remained locked on mine, patiently waiting for an answer.

I lifted my chin, forcing every ounce of ice into my voice.

"I don't know what kind of game you think you're playing, Roman, but you're dangerously close to forgetting who you're talking to."

He studied my face for a long moment.

Then a slow, infuriating smile tugged at his lips.

"You know," he murmured, leaning forward just enough for the warmth of his body to brush against my skin, "if you truly hated this, you would have ordered me to leave five minutes ago."

His eyes held mine.

"But you haven't said the word, Valentina."

My pulse stumbled.

Fuck.

I opened my mouth to respond, but he smoothly cut me off.

"Let's make this simple for both of us."

He rose to his full height, his broad frame suddenly looming over me.

"Lie still and let me give you the massage."

"Oh." I scoffed, shifting so I could look up at him. "You think you're calling the shots now?"

Before I could move, his broad hand settled firmly on my shoulder, keeping me in place.

"I think you're exhausted."

"I'm always exhausted," I shot back. "It's a side effect of dealing with useless, entitled idiots all day."

"Right."

His answer was so smooth it only irritated me further.

From the corner of my eye, I caught the glint of the amber bottle as he poured massage oil into his palms. He rubbed his hands together, releasing the warm scent of cedar into the air.

"I can't imagine what it takes to manage people like that every day," he murmured.

His thumbs pressed into the base of my neck, working slowly into the tension there before dragging down in long, deliberate strokes.

A sharp shudder traveled down my spine.

Against my better judgment, the tension in my shoulders began to melt beneath his hands.

"Don't talk like you know a single thing about me," I snapped, desperately trying to hide how quickly my body was relaxing beneath his touch.

"I know you, Valentina," he said quietly.

His thumbs found another tight knot near my spine.

"What the fuck do you think you know about me, Roman?" I demanded, throwing up every wall I had left.

Roman leaned closer.

His voice dropped into a low, dangerous murmur beside my ear.

"I know you want me."

A sharp gasp caught in my throat.

Heat rushed to my face as I lifted my head and glared at him.

"You must be completely out of your goddamn mind to think that."

Roman laughed softly.

"You shouldn't lie while getting a massage, Ms. Rhodes. The muscles in your neck just locked up completely. You give yourself away every single time."

I bit the inside of my lip, my body tensing with irritation and something far more dangerous.

For a fleeting second, I wanted to shove him away.

Then I remembered I was wearing nothing but the towel wrapped loosely around me, and the last thing I needed was to risk losing it.

So I forced myself to lie still.

I couldn't help marveling at how skilled his hands were, firm enough to work out every knot yet gentle enough not to hurt.

"Where did you learn to do this?" I asked, my voice muffled against my folded arms.

"I had some sports training years ago," he replied smoothly.

The faint sound of oil being poured filled the quiet sauna.

"Are you enjoying the service, ma'am?"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes against the vinyl padding.

"Don't flatter yourself, Roman."

Even with my face buried in my arms, I could practically feel the smug curve of his lips.

His hands returned to my shoulders and upper arms, slick with warm oil, kneading away the lingering tension of the day.

I exhaled softly and closed my eyes, allowing myself to surrender to the rare sensation of being cared for.

I hated how good it felt.

I hated that my bodyguard was the only person in this city who could make me feel safe enough to let my guard down.

Five more minutes.

Five minutes, then I'd tell him to leave, take a shower, put on my robe, and go upstairs to bed.

That was the plan.

Then his hands left my back.

I opened my eyes, tilting my head just in time to see him move toward the end of the table.

Without warning, his warm, broad hands closed gently around my ankle, his thumbs pressing into the arch of my foot.

I gasped, an involuntary laugh slipping through my lips.

"Hey! I'm ticklish there!"

"My apologies," he murmured, amusement evident in his voice. "I'll be gentle."

He ran a finger along the delicate arch of my foot, making me squirm against the vinyl. His broad hands lifted my foot, meticulously working over each of my toes before easing their way back toward my ankles.

My body began to relax again.

I tried to ignore the terrifying fact that I was enjoying this far more than I should.

Roman took his time.

When he finally finished with my feet, his hands moved to my calves, his touch steady and practiced. The warmth of the room seemed to intensify with every passing second, until I could barely tell whether the heat came from the steam or from him.

My nipples were already hard, pressing painfully against the padded table every time I drew a breath.

His calloused palms worked over the sensitive skin behind my knees, his fingers sliding higher until they brushed the fraying edge of my towel.

I sucked in a breath, suddenly hyper-aware of how close his hands were to my bare backside. Every stroke along my thighs left a burning trail of heat in its wake.

This ends now, I decided, clinging to the last shred of my sanity.

He had finished my shoulders, my back, and my legs.

I lay rigid, waiting for him to step back, wipe his hands, and tell me he was done.

But he didn't.

Instead, I felt cool air brush against my lower back as his fingers slowly parted the towel, leaving me completely naked.

"What the hell?!" I snapped, my hand shooting out to grab the towel, but Roman was faster.

With one smooth flick of his wrist, he tossed the damp cotton onto the cedar floorboards.

Heat rushed across my skin as the warm steam enveloped my bare back. I twisted around to glare up at him.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Relax," Roman said calmly. "You'd let a professional masseuse handle you without a towel, wouldn't you? What's the difference?"

"There's a hell of a difference, Roman, and you know it!" I gritted out, my jaw tightening. "You know what? We're done here. Get out."

He didn't move.

He simply stood at the foot of the table, his eyes holding mine with an infuriating calmness.

I narrowed my eyes. "Are you deaf? I said get the fuck out of my house."

"No."

My heart gave a sudden, violent jolt.

"What the fuck do you mean, no?"

"I'm not done with you, Valentina," he murmured.

He stepped toward the side of the table and planted both palms against the vinyl, leaning down until his broad, bare chest blocked out the light.

"Turn over."