All I've Never Wanted(89)

The minute she did, Roman peeled away from the curb. God, dealing with Solange for an entire day was insufferable. Trying to have a normal, intelligent conversation with her was like trying to pull teeth.

If it weren’t for Maya, I wouldn’t even have to deal with her, Roman thought angrily, slamming his foot on the brake at a stop sign.

He’d only brought Solange back to the house yesterday because he thought Maya might be up, but she wasn’t. Then, the model had downed an entire bottle of wine by herself, babbling about shopping the whole time until he finally told her he’d take her to the mall today just to shut her up. Solange ended up spilling some of the wine on her dress in her excitement, hence why he’d reluctantly let her borrow a shirt. And on top of all that, she’d passed out before he could call a cab to take her home.

Roman had planned to make up an “emergency” so he could get out of the shopping trip, but then freakin’ Maya had waltz into the kitchen. He certainly wasn’t about to cancel in front of her.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he thought back to the kitchen scene.

“He really was the perfect date. I’m going to have to find some…method of making it up to him.”

No need to ask what her “method” entailed.

A low growl erupted from his throat as he pulled up in front of his house, tires squealing.

Carlo, Carlo, Carlo. Of course Carlo could do no wrong. He was perfect.

Roman stomped angrily into the house, his boots echoing loudly in the marble halls. What did Carlo have that he didn’t anyway? Did girls seriously like that oh-so-sensitive bullshit?

It was wimpy as hell, in his opinion.

Of course, what really galled him was the fact that seeing him with Solange seemed to have no effect on Maya whatsoever. Just picturing her sitting there at the kitchen table that morning, calmly eating her stupid muffin, made his blood boil. She wasn’t supposed to be so nonchalant!

Well, what did you expect? a voice asked smugly inside his head. Did you really think she could like you?

“What’s there not to like?” Roman growled out loud. “I’m Roman Fiori!”

Yes, but that doesn’t mean a thing to her. Honestly, she’s better off with someone else. Someone like…Carlo.

“Shut up!” Roman roared, causing a passing maid to shoot him an alarmed look and scuttle into the closest room as fast as her feet could take her.

Why do you care so much anyway? Could you possibly have feelings—

“No way,” Roman muttered furiously. “I’m just mad because she’s the only girl who isn’t fawning over me the way. She’s. Supposed. To!”

He yanked open the door to his room and slammed it shut behind him.

He only took two steps before he stopped, turned, and stormed across the hall to her room. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say to her, but he had a feeling she was lying about being sick yesterday.

At least, he hoped she’d been lying. She seemed pretty upset when she saw him kissing Solange.

Roman scowled even more at the memory of the kiss. It had been a necessary evil, or so he’d thought. Now, it just seemed like it had all been for nothing.

“Maya!”

He stepped into the Greek suite, searching for a glimpse of her dark hair. Roman’s eyes scanned the empty room, puzzled.

Her bed was perfectly made, and he couldn’t hear any noises. That was weird. She was usually back by this time.

“Maya?”

No response.

His heart speeding up a bit, Roman thoroughly checked the bedroom. Something was off, but he couldn’t tell what. By the time he’d gone through the dressing rooms, bathroom, study area, and the rest of the suite, he was full-on panicking.

Where the hell was she? Had she been mugged? Kidnapped?

His heart tugged violently at the thought.

Roman quickly pressed the intercom button, and the head housekeeper answered immediately.

“Gloria, where’s Maya?” he barked.

The housekeeper paused. “I don’t believe I’ve seen Miss Lindberg all day, Mr. Fiori.”

“Well, she’s not here!”

“Perhaps she went out?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, where could she possibly have gone?” he snapped. “Find her!”


“I—“ Before Gloria had a chance to answer, Roman released the button.

He whipped out his phone, calling Parker, Adri, and Zack in succession. None of them knew where she was, which left him no choice.

Roman reluctantly speed-dialed Carlo, and the Colombian picked up after three rings.

“Hello?”

“Have you seen her?” he demanded without preamble.

“Seen who?” Carlo asked calmly.

“Maya!”

“Yes.”

Relief filled Roman’s lungs. “Where is she? She’s not here!”

“I know. She’s here, with me.”

And just like that, the relief was replaced with roaring jealousy. Roman’s grip tightened on his phone. “Where is ‘here’, and why the hell is she there at this time of night?”

“She’s in my guesthouse.” Carlo sounded almost amused. “Didn’t she tell you? She’s staying here for the next two weeks.”

Roman froze, ice filling his veins. “What?” His voice was hoarse.