The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Chapter 57

I must have fallen asleep quickly as I wake to noise, only half aware of Camilla telling me she is going out and then fall back into oblivion after the door slams shut in the outer living area. I think I drift off again into oblivion because everything becomes confusing and time seems to drift away.

I jump up with the pounding noise coming from what seems to be all around me, disorientated, and immediately terrified; it takes a moment to realize the ‘thud, thud, thud’ is coming from the outer living room, and I’m in semi-darkness.

I get up warily, realizing I must have been out for a while as it’s later in the evening, even though the clock tells me it’s still well before midnight. I venture into the open plan area slowly and fearfully; aware someone is pounding on the apartment door and I sigh with relief and trudge towards it casually.

“I’m coming, keep your hair on!” I yell out as I try to cool the hammering of my heart to a steadier pace, still foggy headed from sleep, trembling from my rude awakening and realizing I never even picked up a robe to cover myself.

Camilla’s delivery no doubt.

Guy sure is keen to deliver a parcel.

Without hesitation, or even checking the peephole, I open the safety lock and ease the heavy fire door, just enough to pop my head round to see who is making all that infernal, impatient noise, with an irritated sigh.

my body instantly met with a cold wave and heart dropping lurch when faced with one casually dressed, and obviously majorly pissed off, Arrick

me back into the apartment and storms in,

I’m so taken aback, that I inhale sharply, wounded child making

skimpy tank, that is slightly transparent, and lace panties that are meant more for seduction than walking around the Livingroom. Realizing where his gaze has landed, I immediately turn to make

Sophie.” He tugs me back harshly, so I’m pulled to within an inch of his bristling body, igniting my inner

to shrug free, not really sure how to navigate this version of him and being overcome by the instinctive fight-or-flight impulse I have. He is bubbling hostility, and instead of his normal sexy tailored clothes, he’s in sweats a hoody, and sneakers, as though he’s been running or fight training before coming here. His short-cropped hair is messily cute, but his face is raw rage that I have only ever seen on him mid arena fight, and crazily intimidating. My heart threatens to break

height and strong chest, and I instantly feel feeble and weak, fear flowing through me that in this mode, I have no power against him at all. I have never seen him like this, and he’s scaring me. All the childhood warning bells, even though it’s him, even though I know he wouldn’t hit me. They’re firing hard and fear’s coursing through

you even find me here?” Is the only thing I can whisper, averting my eyes to stop the way he’s eating into my soul with that penetrative death glare. Trying to bring calm to my jellified legs

matters is that I’m taking you home. Right now! You have no fucking choice!” He’s seething, gritting teeth, and a tone he never uses on anyone. I lose the last dredges of my bravado and instead slowly turn into a puddle

childish and churlish, voice weak, and feeble, tears prickling my eyes, but still that stubborn bottom lip jutting

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