Capello Brothers 2 Command My Heart Read Online Free Page A

sleep
preoccupied by thoughts of her. I hadn't been this tired in years,
but with the studio progressing at break-neck speed I had to get
the sleep whenever I could.
    Even now as I
lay desperately seeking sleep inside my office, the thought that
she’d chosen the very couch I was now resting on had me wide-awake
despite my overwhelming tiredness. Looking around, she’d chosen
furniture that suited me perfectly—sleek and intimidating pieces
that commanded your attention without you even realising it. She
felt a connection as well; there was no other way to explain
it.
    If only I could
grab a few hours sleep now, I’d be able to get back up and tackle
the paperwork I’d not gotten to earlier. But as tired as I was,
sleep was eluding me and I somehow knew that until I had Inta
getting sleep and rest would be an ongoing challenge.
     
     
    The knock on
the door came quietly, looking at my watch; I'd been asleep for a
couple of hours yet it felt like I'd only just closed my eyes.
Sleep had come but it’d been restless and filled with intertwining
and confusing thoughts of Inta and happier times with my family in
Italy. The fusion of the thoughts left me reeling. As I woke, I
knew deep down, I saw Inta as part of my future, knew I needed her
in my life.
    "Come in" I
called, slowly sitting up on the couch, rubbing my eyes awake and
reaching for my shirt. And as if I’d conjured it myself, in she
walked.
    “Inta, what can
I do for you?” I asked, standing to pull my shirt on.
    I watched as
her eyes skirted across my chest and shoulders, as though she was
mentally taking stock of my features and tatts. I waited as her
eyes slowly made their way north to mine, and she turned a deeper
shade of red as she realised I’d caught her checking me out. Not
that I was bothered at all; if Inta’s attention was my reward for a
decade of pumping weights and downing protein shakes, I was more
than happy.
    “The compass—“
she murmured.
    “Roman designed
it” I replied, knowing she was talking about the tattoo Roman had
designed and inked on my chest. The design was typical Roman—strong
lines with painstakingly delicate and deliberate detailing. I’d
always considered Roman’s designs untouchable, right up until a
couple weeks ago when I first saw Inta’s work.
    “Dominic, do
you mind—can I see it again?” she asked.
    I reached for
the hem of my shirt and pulled it over it my head; I wasn’t
complaining or wasting time if Inta wanted me shirtless, but I also
had no doubt in my mind that she was interested purely from a
professional perspective.
    “Wow” she
breathed, inspecting each line and detail of the tattoo, “Dominic,
wow. This is amazing” she spoke softly.
    She was so
close that I could feel the rhythmic exhale of her breath against
my skin, could smell the delicate scent of her shampoo, could feel
her energy shifting my own sense of gravity and pulling me closer
and deeper into her world.
    Looking down at
her, she’d become lost in the design. It was the same glazed-over
look she got when she was deep in concentration and having that
level of intensity directed at me was scintillating.
    Closing my eyes
and breathing in her attention, my senses heightened. Never had a
woman drawn me so deeply into her without a single word or touch. I
needed her. Wanted her intensity.
    Then, without
warning, her fingertips gently slid across my skin, tracing the
lines of the tattoo as if silently committing each detail to
memory. I felt my breath catch in my throat as goosebumps spread
across my entire body. Opening my eyes, I found her already looking
up at me. Her beautiful round eyes drinking in my response to the
effect she was having on me. I could barely hold it together; I
wanted to pull her in close, to devour her mouth in mine.
    Sensing the
shift, she quickly withdrew her hand from my skin.
    “Inta, don't
pull away from me “ I pleaded.
    “Dominic, I’m
sorry, I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry—“ she said before