No Strings Attached

Chapter Three

Holy shit.

I gape, quickly standing on shaky legs. Giovanni rises with me.

"What are you doing here?"

"You left your coat in the restaurant," he says, handing me my wallet. I take it, shoving it ungracefully into my bag.

"I mean, how do you know where I'm staying?"

"I asked your very confused driver. The receptionist told me your room number. I've been waiting."

I hold out my hand for the coat, inhaling in frustration when he doesn't hand it over right away.

"I'd like to apologize if you'd permit me inside for a moment."

"You really don't need to. I'd like to leave all of this behind us."

"You cannot even look into my eyes, Scarlett. Let me apologize," he insists. I remain silent for a moment, pondering whether I should storm by him, punch him, or let him in. I eventually decide on the last one, knowing we do need to clear this up if he's going to remain my client.

I walk past him, sticking the room key into the slot, and hear the loud beep. I pull open the door and hold it wider for him. He actually hesitates before he moves, striding past me into the bedroom.

I shut the door, trying to get ahold of myself as I deposit my things on the bed. I turn to him, refusing to show him an ounce of the storm within me at this moment.

He sets down my coat, exhaling.

"I am mortified at how I've treated you, Scarlett. I swear, I don't mean to say these horrible things, but I just feel strange around you for some reason... intimidated."

"I'm intimidating?"

"And beautiful. You are smart and professional. You're blunt, too, as I am."

"Stop."

"I mean it."

"I could care less if you mean it. You are my client. It doesn't matter if you find me attractive. It doesn't matter if I find you attractive."

"You care. You wouldn't have run from me in that restaurant if you didn't. And I care, or I wouldn't have run after you."

That leaves me speechless. My eyes flutter blankly.

Jesus Christ, what is happening? How is he already speaking to me this way? All of this is already so twisted. And normally, I'd have stopped this man dead in his tracks. Why am I allowing this?

He steps closer. "You're beautiful, Scarlett... not because you try to be. You dress like you're colorblind. You wear clothing that is two sizes too large for you. You don't do your hair, your makeup... but you are effortlessly pretty. And to me, that is strange and completely enticing."

My heart is pounding through my chest. I'm sure he can see it.

I'm confused, startled, flattered, angry.

"Why are you saying this to me? Huh?" I scowl fiercely. "What are you hoping for? That I'll be the next notch in your bedpost? That I'll jump into bed with you like your previous publicist?"

"I'm trying to apologize," he replies, his tone soft, even sounding slightly embarrassed.

"Well, you have. You are forgiven. All of this bullshit doesn't need to be said. You don't have to do this!"

"Why are you so stubborn? You cannot be so blinded and caught up in this mechanical façade you put on to not be able to feel what I feel."

My mouth literally hangs open at his brazen bluntness.