~ Niamh ~
I swallowed hard, the sound loud in the quiet of the hallway as I watched Massimo's broad back.
Every step I took toward him felt like I was crossing a battlefield, my heart pounding with a rhythmic, frantic beat that only grew louder the closer I got.
By the time I stood just inches away from him, the air around us felt thin, and I felt as though I had just run a thousand-mile race without a single break.
His scent hit me then—that dark, spicy aroma of cedar and bay that was uniquely his—and it wrapped around me like a physical touch, shooting a sharp bolt of desire straight to my core.
Massimo finally turned to face me with that same unreadable expression he wore so well.
"Massimo," I whispered, my voice steadier than I felt. "I wanted to say thank you."
He leaned one shoulder against the doorframe of his bedroom, his dark eyes tracking the movement of my lips. "For what?"
