The Spanish Love Deception

Chapter 72

Okay, I’ll stay. And I burrowed into the chest, ready to lose myself to the exhaustion rocking my body.

“Eyes open, please.”

Somehow, I complied. I let them fall on a shoulder that looked terribly familiar as we moved. And gradually, my vision

eventually cleared. My head, no longer whirling, locked back on my shoulders. The sweat on my skin cooled down. NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

My eyes roamed around as recollection of what had happened spilled down my mind. I fainted, for not eating enough.

Like a total dumbass. Sighing, I looked up, my gaze zeroing in on a chin that stretched into a jaw that was topped by

lips that were pressed tightly.

“Aaron,” I whispered.

Blue eyes met mine for an instant. “Hold on. Almost there.”

I was in Aaron’s arms. His left arm around my legs, hand spreading on my thigh. His right one around my back, his

long fingers splayed across my hip. Before I could delve into that or on the comforting and amazing warmth

emanating off him and into my skin, he was putting me down.

Confused, I looked around me. My gaze stumbled upon that horrible, disturbing framed piece of art of a kid with huge

eyes. I had always hated it, and I knew exactly where it belonged. We could only be in Jeff’s office. He was the only

person I knew personally who didn’t find that frightening.

My ass settled on a plush surface, and my back followed, resting on something that felt a lot like a pillow. I placed my

hands on my sides, noticing the fabric beneath my fingers. Leather. A sofa. Jeff had one in his office. It was one of

those leather settees that looked all pretentious and classy.

Aaron’s palm brushed my face again, and my attention returned to him. He was close, really close. Kneeling on the

floor in front of me. His touch was comforting, but his expression didn’t match the soothing quality of his fingers

against my skin.

“Do you want to lean back?” he asked, an edge on his voice.

“No, I’m okay.” I willed my voice to convey the strength I wasn’t feeling. His eyebrows draw into a scowl. “You look so

mad.” It was an observation that should have been kept as a thought probably, but I guessed that, given the

circumstances, I wasn’t in the disposition to be picky with what left my mouth. “Why are you mad?”

“When was the last time you ate, Catalina?” His scowl deepened, and he shifted on his knees, straightening his back.

I watched him pull something out of his pocket.

I grimaced. “Lunch? I think. Maybe more like brunch because I didn’t have time to get breakfast, so I just had

something at around eleven.”

His hand froze midair in front of me, allowing me to see that something he was holding. It was wrapped in white wax

paper. “Jesus, Catalina.” He shot me a look that would make anyone else cower. One that would definitely help with

his soon-to-be new position.

But even if my tank was literally empty, I wasn’t anyone else.

“I’m fine, Mr. Robot.”

“No, you are not,” he shot back. Then, he very carefully placed on my lap what I already knew was a delicious Aaron

Blackford homemade granola bar. “You fainted, Catalina. That’s really far from being fine. Eat this.”

“Thanks. But I’m okay now.” I looked down, my gaze getting acquainted with the gifted snack one more time. With

shaky hands, I snatched it. Unwrapped it with clumsy fingers. “Do you always carry these on you?” I hesitated, my

stomach complaining for some reason.

“Eat, please.”

So odd, how he could say please and make it sound like a threat.

“Jeez.” I took a bite. Then, I spoke with a mouthful—because who cared? He had literally just picked me off the floor,

white-lipped, sweaty, and on my way to dramatically passing out—“I said I’m okay.”

“No,” he thundered. Pinning me down with a warning. “What you are is a dumbass.”

I frowned, wanting to be upset but agreeing with him. He didn’t need to know I was on his side.

“Stubborn woman,” he muttered under his breath.

I stopped chewing, making an attempt to stand up and stomp out of that office. He stopped me with oddly gentle

hands on my shoulders.

“Do not test me right now.” That damn scowl was back with a vengeance.

I gave up under the soft vise of his large palms and let my body fall back.

“Eat the bar, Catalina. It’s not nearly enough, but it’ll do for now.”

Feeling the ghost of his hands on the skin covering my shoulders, I shivered. “I’m eating. No need to boss me

around.” I averted my eyes and resumed chewing, trying not to think of how much I wanted those palms back on my

skin. Or those long and big arms around me. I needed the comfort. My body felt stretched too long, my skin chilled,

my muscles overworked.

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