Attracted to His Cold

Chapter 2

As I'm carrying the tall, 25-inch box, I attempt to balance it between my hands. Being too focused on this, I trip - over my own feet. Like I said, I'm a clutz. I feel myself begin to fall. Unable to re-stabilize myself, I close my eyes and wait for impact. 

Crash! 

Every single glass bottle shatters. But I didn't hit the ground?

No.

Instead, there was these warm, muscular arms wrap around me – giving me a strange sense of protection. Under any and all circumstances, I'd be freaking out. My PTSD has not improved at all. And yet, it felt like I could stay in his arms forever. His scent intoxicated me, filling my lungs with every breath I took. It's a combination of fresh cologne, mint, and coffee.

I look up to see a tall, mysterious man with beautifully tanned skin, perfectly matching his dark hair. He's about 6"3 if I had to guess. I'm only 5"8. He continues to embrace me for what was only a brief moment but felt like I was being held by home. I notice his ocean blue eyes staring into mine. They are intense, yet dangerous, causing this intense tension between us, not an uncomfortable tension. More like a pleasant tension that I never wanted to end.

As he releases me, I instantly notice his tux shirt tightly clinging to his bulging muscles. Despite everything about him, the thing that shocked me the most is that for the first time in such a long time, there is a man that doesn't make me feel afraid or repulsed. I don't feel the urge to run in the other direction. I don't feel the urge to kick, yell or scream. I don't feel the urge to prepare myself for the worst. I feel incredibly awkward as I realise that for the longest time, I've been staring at his lips. Not knowing what to do, I rub my arm strangely, showing my embarrassment. As I look back into his eyes, they turn cold...

He pulls out his gun from nowhere and points it straight at my head with absolutely no hesitation. I stand there, stunned, shocked, and terrified. I don't know how to react. Not wanting to seem like a threat, I do nothing.

"Fermati! Chi sei?" [Stop! Who are you?]

Of course, he would assume I'm Italian. We are in Italy after all.

"Don't hurt me, p-please", is all I can get out.

"Non te lo chiedero di nuovo dolcezza." [I will not ask you again honey.]

Not being able understand what he's saying, I start to freak out.

"Stop! I don't understand-" I scream in a panic.

As though by a miracle, Carlo walks in.

"Per l'amor di Dio, Cole, metti gui' la pistola!" [For God's sake, Cole, put the gun down!"]

"You are scaring my personal assistant!"

To my relief, Cole lowers his gun, turning to Carlo.

"Your personal what?" Cole roared.

Carlo walks towards us, as cool as a mint.

"Calm down, son" Carlo responds. 

His calm, unnerved voice calming me slightly.

Wait- Son? I didn't know he had a son...

"Have you lost your mind?" Cole's voice was so angry, it began to make my PTSD slightly take over. 

I take deep breaths, trying to calm myself down, knowing that it wasn't me being shouted at. 

"I don't want your whores around here!" I lost it.

"Excuse me?" I question him.

"Cole, she is not-" Carlo says, trying to defend me.

"You heard me, piccola!" [little one]