Chapter 110

He had seen those eyes before; he could swear on it. Soft blue, the color of a calm sea, they watched his every mood change, fearful and stunned. Behind that fear was calculation.

Or maybe he was overthinking it. The Mafia's security had him suspect every damn thing, including a girl in a white towel who had lost her memory.

He pushed back, his right hand flexing when he raked his fingers through his hair. "Trust me, Contessa," he said, shaking his head and mimicking regret, "You aren't my type. You shouldn't fear.

He saw a little anger in her eyes, and when he turned his stern gaze on hers, she immediately melted.

He pointed to the bed and said, "Do not wear whatever that is outside of your room; there are men out here. It won't be my fault if they don't control themselves."

The blood was working its way around her body again.

"And Contessa?' He turned, saying, "No more words about you leaving the manor. The search for who your parents