Page 20 of Lost Prince
This book is a romance, which I usually avoid. Not that I don’t like or believe in love, because I do. But romances remind me of how alone I am. Plus, they’re so far-fetched. But I suppose all books are. I mean, in all my travels, I’ve never met a wizard or a dragon or a vampire.
I read until my eyes start to droop. I put on my shorts and tank top I sleep in, brush my teeth and wash my face in my cramped bathroom, and then climb into bed. I’m on the edge of sleep when a thunderous pounding on my door jolts me awake. My heart races as I bolt upright. For a split second, I wonder if I imagined it. Then it comes again, more insistent this time.
I hesitate, my mind spinning through possibilities. Who could be at my door at this hour? I don’t know anyone except theD’Amatos and my work colleagues. None of them would show up in the middle of the night, would they?
Curiosity wins out over caution. I slip out of bed, padding barefoot across the floor. My hand trembles slightly as I reach for the doorknob. I take a deep breath, steeling myself, and pull it open.
Lazaro D'Amato looms in my doorway, his broad shoulders nearly filling the frame. His eyes are dark and intense, his jaw clenched tight. He looks dangerous, every inch the man people whisper about in fear.
But I feel no fear. My heart races, yes, but not from fright. It's something else entirely.
"Lazaro? What are you?—"
He doesn't wait for an invitation, brushing past me into my tiny apartment. His presence fills every corner of the room, making the space feel even smaller. I'm acutely aware of him—the scent of motor oil still clinging to his skin, the way his muscles shift beneath his shirt as he moves.
I close the door, turning to face him. "Is everything okay? Did something happen with your family?"
Lazaro's gaze roams the sparse room before settling on me. The intensity in his eyes makes me shiver. Tension radiates off him in waves. Whatever drove him here, it's clear he's struggling with something intense.
"What's going on? Are you okay?"
He starts pacing, and I wait, giving him space to gather his thoughts, thinking he’s come because he needs to talk. As I watch, I get the sense that he wants to say something and at the same time is a second away from bolting out the door.
Knowing that food often calms him when he comes to the kitchen, I decide to offer him the sandwich I’d made earlier. “I don’t have cookies, but I made a sandwich I think you’ll like. Would you like me to get it for you?”
He stops pacing, his intense gaze settling on me again, making my breath catch. The air between us grows heavy, charged with electricity. My heart races as Lazaro takes a step toward me, then another, his presence looming large over me. I back up until I hit the wall. I’m not afraid, per se. Just unsure. I tilt my head back to meet his gaze. Those hazel eyes are dark, stormy with emotions I can't decipher.
I should be scared. This man has a reputation for violence, for unpredictability. I swallow hard, acutely aware of how close he is, of the heat radiating from his body. The air between us crackles with an intensity that both thrills and terrifies me.
"I can't stop thinking about you," he says, his voice low and rough. "Since the moment I laid eyes on you, you’ve been lodged in my head.”
Uh… I’m not sure how to respond to that. I can’t tell if it’s a good thing or bad. Am I like an annoying song constantly replaying?
“When I'm with you, everything feels… easier. Like I can breathe again."
That doesn’t sound like I’m annoying. “I’m glad I put you at ease. Is that why you’re here? You need to talk?—”
“You fucking drove off,” he snaps.
I flinch. “What?”
“You just drove away after dropping me off. Disappeared. Vanished.” His tone is bitter, but I see vulnerability in his eyes.
“You were home. With Lana. I didn’t want to intrude.”
He shakes his head like I'm missing the point. "You wouldn't have been intruding. You're the only one who makes me feel like myself. Not who I used to be or who they want me to be. Just… me."
Warmth fills my chest. This brusque man is opening up to me, and in doing so is making me feel a connection to him.
His gaze drifts down to my mouth, and my breath catches as I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. He leans in, and my heart hammers in my chest at the anticipation. The moment draws out until my mind is screaming,kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.
Without warning, Lazaro's eyes darken and he takes a step back. The loss of his warmth leaves me cold.
"No," he growls, running a hand through his hair. "This is wrong. You need to stay away from me."
His words sting, but confusion quickly overtakes the hurt. "What? You're mad that I left and now you're telling me to stay away. Which, by the way, this is my place. You came here?—”
He lets out a growl. “Fuck! You need to stay away.”