All I've Never Wanted(87)

I swallowed. “Every guy will love it, you look gorgeous,” I admitted truthfully, trying not to envy her perfect looks.

Sure, Solange wasn’t the smartest girl in the world, but most guys, especially ones like Roman, didn’t like smart girls. They preferred the hot ones who’d do anything they asked, who didn’t slap them or yell at them or—

Stop it! He’s not worth thinking about.

“Really?” Solange turned to face me, her face lighting up. “I like Roman. He’s...er, how you say…different. From other men.”

I smiled tensely. If by different she meant bipolar, then she was so right. “Well, you should get going. I don’t want you to, uh, lose that Gucci purse.”

Solange beamed at me. “You’re so sweet.” She waggled her fingers at me. “See you soon?”

“Sure.” The word tasted bitter on my tongue. As she swished out of the room, I couldn’t help but think how good she and Roman looked together. They certainly made a picture-perfect couple.


Which was totally fine. If he wanted her, he could have her. I don’t care. Or at least, I won’t care as soon as I moved out of here and forgot all about Roman Fiori.

* * *

“Wow, this is the guesthouse?” I breathed, my eyes widening as I gazed at the massive two-story structure in front of me. “That’s amazing.”

Carlo chuckled. “After the Fioris’ residence, I’m surprised you’re even shocked by my humble abode.”

I snorted. If you called an indoor pools, fifteen bedrooms, three tennis courts, and a garage that could be converted into a martial arts dojo with the flip of a switch humble.

“Your luggage is already in the master bedroom on the second floor,” Carlo said, opening the door. “The butler brought it up for you. The guesthouse has its own bathrooms, kitchen, living room, and an intercom system that links to the main house. Whenever you need anything, just let the staff know and they’ll take care of it for you.”

We stepped into the elegantly decorated house. It was less lavish than the Fioris’ suite, but I actually liked it better. It was more welcoming.

“Thank you, really,” I said softly, looking around. “You’ve been such a great friend.”

Carlo smiled gently at me. “You said it yourself. I’m your friend, and what are friends for?” He handed me the key. “I have something I need to take care of, but I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home. Just one thing.”

I stared at him curiously.

Carlo hesitated a bit, a more serious expression crossing his face. “It’s probably best if you stay out of the main house for a bit. Just as a—precaution.”

A precaution? Against what? But the look on his face told me he wouldn’t tell me anyway, so I just nodded. “Ok.”

The seriousness faded, and he smiled once more. “Dinner’s at seven, I’ll come eat with you here. How does Thai sound?”

My stomach rumbled at the thought of pad Thai.“Perfect.”

He laughed. “See you later then.”

For the next hour or so, I explored the guesthouse, which was about twice the size of any regular house in any other part of America. I could feel myself relaxing, just from being away from the Fiori residence, even though it was only two streets away. It almost seemed as though yesterday had been a bad dream.

I pushed open the curtains of my room, delighted to find I had a perfect view of the Tevascos’ giant lagoon pool. Today was fairly warm for a fall afternoon, and the water looked so inviting…

Making up my mind, I threw on my favorite black bikini, grabbed a towel, and flip-flopped down to the pool.

When I got there, though, I was surprised to see someone had beat me to it. From the back, he looked an awful lot like Carlo, except a bit taller and broader, and his hair was longer.

He turned when he heard my footsteps, and my eyes widened.

Whoa. He looked almost exactly like Carlo, only different, if that made sense. The coloring was identical, and their facial structures were similar, only the guy standing in front of me had thinner lips and a nose that looked like it’d been broken more than a few times. The most startling difference though, was his eyes. Whereas Carlo’s were warm and soulful, his were harder, more cynical.

“Well, hello, darling,” he said, eyeing me head-to-toe in a way that made me shiver. “And who might you be?”

I held the towel in front of me, wishing I’d worn a cover up. His lips tugged into a smirk at my action.

“I’m Maya. Carlo’s friend,” I said, my voice surprisingly clear and steady. “Who are you?”

He chuckled. “Rico. Carlo’s brother.”

My jaw dropped. Carlo had a brother? And he never told me? A frisson of hurt snaked its way through my system.

“Don’t worry if he never mentioned me,” Rico drawled. “He rarely does.” His eyes burned through my towel, and I clutched it tighter to me.

“Oh. W-why?”

There was something about Rico that made me incredibly nervous. Forget swimming. Just go back in the guesthouse! my mind screamed.

Rico smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” There was a strange inflection in his voice, but before I could do anything, another voice cut in.

“Rico! What are you doing here?”