“We can only hope,” I said drily. Then, I added with unease, “Does his girlfriend live here?”

That amused her. “I’m sure hell will freeze over before Ronan is monogamous.” She paused to look me over, her gaze settling on my neck, which I knew was marked with a hickey. “But then again . . . this makes me feel a little optimistic.”

I didn’t think she was kidding.

I would hate to see how she and her husband got together.

“I thought Nadia was his girlfriend,” I said slowly.

She wrinkled her nose. “No, thankfully. She would make an awful sister-in-law. I can just imagine the dinner conversation.”

A modicum of relief filled me at the knowledge I hadn’t fooled around with someone’s boyfriend. The idea only added to the sickness of the situation. However, that was the least of my worries right now.

“I try to stay out of my husband and his brother’s business, but sometimes, eavesdropping gets the best of me. Ronan has an issue with your papa, not you.” She tugged at the rope with an Italian curse. “I’m sure it won’t be long until he concedes, and this is all sorted out.”

She seemed indifferent to the fact concede meant my papa’s head would decorate Ronan’s mantel. The hopelessness of this situation pulled on my chest while I stared at the ceiling.

“My papa already agreed to trade himself for me.”

She raised a brow. “Then why does Ronan still need you?”

“Torture.”

She laughed and then sobered when she realized I was serious. “Well . . . that’s interesting.”

Being sane and all, I had different words for the situation.

The other rope fell free, and I rolled off the bed. “Thank you. I just have to—”

“Go. I’ll find you some clothes.”

Thankfully, the cracked door led into a bathroom, and I released a sigh as I relieved myself. I washed my hands and face with a bar of soap and then found a spare toothbrush in the vanity drawer that I made use of, scrubbing the acidic taste of last night’s festivities from my mouth.

I returned to the room, suddenly feeling very, very naked.

Gianna sat on the bed with an article of clothing in her hand. “Here you go.”

I thanked her before slipping it on. The black, oversized T-shirt had Elvis Presley’s face on it, and it reached only to the tops of my thighs.

“Sorry,” she said. “The shirt was all I could get. Ronan gave me a growly look that swore retribution.”

My expression conveyed alarm for her.

She smiled. “He’s more bark than bite, I promise.”

“I saw him cut off a man’s finger, and he’s going to kill my papa.”

“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose. “I guess that puts him in an awkward light, doesn’t it?”

Bad light, I corrected in my head.

I was that person.

“I’m sorry about your papa. I am. But you’ve been thrown into the underworld, and here, things aren’t always black and white.”

I contemplated her words while she moved to the door.

“I have to go. My husband gave me a look that said we won’t be staying for dinner. Which is a shame because Polina makes the best medovik.” She rubbed a hand over her pregnant belly. “Anyway, I’m sure next time we meet, there’ll be less ropes and more clothes.”

Tags: Danielle Lori Made Erotic
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