ANDREA

I storm into Stefano's apartment in California, my blood boiling with rage over his abrupt departure from Mexico. I can't believe him. Was kissing me really that terrible? And worse, after making all those promises about keeping me safe, he just up and left without a word. Fury consumes me because I know he feels the same way I do. My attraction to him is no longer one-sided, so why is he holding back?

"Stefano!" I bark, making my way to the kitchen. I had considered checking the bedroom first, but the sound of movement drew me to the kitchen instead.

As I enter, I notice a figure standing in front of the fridge. Drawing closer, I realize it's Stefano, his hand reaching for a bottle of water.

"Stefano!" I yell again, demanding his attention. He slams the fridge door shut, instinctively reaching for a knife, but he freezes the moment he sees me.

"Andrea, what the fuck?" he gasps, retracting his hand. "When the hell did you get here?" His voice is low as he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Why did you leave?" I move closer to him, my anger still simmering. "Fucking tell me." I shove my finger into his chest, and that's when I feel it - his shirt is damp. My brow furrows in confusion. Why is he sweating?

"What I decide to do is none of your fucking business. Now leave if that's the only reason you're here," he growls, pushing at my shoulder, but I barely budge since he doesn't use enough force.

"Stefano," I call softly, noticing in the dim kitchen light the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. A feverish heat radiates from his body. "Are you alright? You're sweating," I point out, concern lacing my voice as I step closer, my hand instinctively reaching out to touch his forehead. All anger towards Stefano for leaving me in Mexico evaporates in that moment.

"I'm fine," he replies hoarsely, his voice strained and unfamiliar. He swats my hand away before I can make contact. "I just finished working out."

"You just finished working out?" I repeat in disbelief, and he nods. "In your pajamas?" I challenge his lie, failing to conceal the fact that something is wrong.

"Yes, in my pajamas," he insists stubbornly, and I can't help but chuckle at his statement. Typical man, refusing to admit when something might be wrong.

"I think you are sick." Ignoring his objections, I place my hand on his neck, the heat of his skin searing my palm. "Your temperature is high; you need to take something to help bring it down."

"I am not sick." he growls, pulling away from my touch and stalking out of the kitchen, his movements unsteady.

As Stefano steps out, his steps falter, and what happens next causes a scream to rip from my throat.

"Stefano!" I rush to his side, my heart pounding in my chest as I catch him before he collapses to the ground. Panic grips me as I stare at his closed eyelids, but the slow rise and fall of his chest reassure me that he's still alive. The searing heat emanating from his body is alarming, and a sickening realization hits me - his fever must be dangerously high.

"Samuel!" I yell from my spot on the floor, my voice cracking with desperation. I need help moving Stefano upstairs, and fast. Samuel was the one who let me into the house, so he shouldn't be far.

"You called for..." Samuel begins as he arrives, but his words trail off when he sees his boss sprawled on the floor, unmoving.

"Help me take him upstairs to his room," I plead, attempting to stand while supporting Stefano's dead weight. It's an impossible task alone, but with Samuel's assistance, we manage to lift him off the cold tiles.

Samuel effortlessly scoops Stefano into his arms, cradling his limp form as he carries him up the stairs and into the bedroom. I follow close behind, my heart in my throat and my mind racing with worst-case scenarios.

The darkness of his bedroom envelops us, the monochromatic decor doing little to alleviate the gloom. Shades of grey and black dominate the space, with the ash-colored curtains serving as the sole source of muted brightness. Gently, Samuel lays him on the bed, easing him down onto the mattress.

"Samuel, please bring me a bowl of cool water and some clean towels," I instruct, surprised by the steadiness in my voice despite the terror coursing through my veins. "And see if you can find a thermometer. We need to monitor his temperature closely."

As Samuel hurries off to gather the requested items, I turn my attention back to Stefano, I rush to his side and gently brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead. "You're going to be okay," I whisper, as much to reassure myself as him. "I'm here, and I'm going to make sure of it."

Samuel returns swiftly, the porcelain bowl of cool water sloshing slightly in his hands. I waste no time dipping the plush towel he hands me into the refreshing liquid, wringing out the excess droplets before gently laying it across Stefano's burning forehead, my fingers lingering on his feverish skin for a moment.

"You can go, Samuel. I'll let you know if anything changes," I say, turning to face him, my voice steady despite the worry churning in my gut.

"Okay, ma'am," he replies with a slight bow before leaving the room.

I give a small nod and turn back to Stefano, worry gnawing at my core as I study his face. His chiseled features are flushed crimson, beads of sweat glistening across his chest. This cold compress is not enough - I need to find something stronger to combat this raging fever.

I hurry to the marble bathroom, relief washing over me when I locate a bottle of fever-reducing medication in the cabinet. Armed with the pills and a fresh glass of ice water, I return to his bedside. Gently shaking his shoulder, I try rousing him. To my relief, his eyes slowly flutter open, glazed with confusion for a moment before I explain. He accepts the pill and gulps down the water without protest.

As I rise to fetch him another glass, his clammy hand shoots out, gripping my wrist with surprising strength. "Stay," he rasps, his deep voice laced with a vulnerability I've never heard from him before.

I turn back, my breath catching in my throat. In this moment, all his walls are down, the cold, ruthless exterior melting away to reveal the tender man beneath. My heart swells at the trust he's placing in me, baring his true self and not hiding that he needs me right now. I sink back into the chair, but his next words make my pulse quicken.

"Here," he murmurs huskily, pulling back the silken sheets to reveal the empty space beside him. I stare at it, eyes wide with shock. After what happened in Mexico, this is the last thing I expected. But not thinking too deeply about it, I slip off my shoes and gingerly climb into the bed, my heart thundering in my ears.

Stefano instantly wraps his strong arms around my waist, pulling me flush against his solid frame. He buries his face into the crook of my neck, muttering something in breathless Italian that sounds like "amazing." I freeze, unsure how to respond to this unexpected intimacy. I've longed for his touch, but now that it's happening, I'm lost, my mind reeling.

The tickle of his raven locks against my chin brings me back to reality. Unconsciously, my fingers thread through his silken hair, gently massaging his scalp. A low rumble of approval vibrates against my skin as Stefano tightens his hold, encouraging my tender motions.

Then, something warm and wet grazes my neck, sending a shockwave of electricity down my spine. I glance down, eyes widening until they're saucers. Stefano is peppering my sensitive skin with scorching, lingering kisses that weaken my knees and ignite a trembling heat within me.

I gasp sharply as his hand roams up my back, his calloused palm igniting a trail of liquid fire everywhere it touches. My eyes flutter closed as I moan softly, my body feeling as though it's been plunged into a searing furnace of desire.

Stefano continues worshipping the column of my neck with his sinful lips, each electrifying kiss branding me, marking me as his. My hands instinctively grip his powerful shoulders to anchor myself as the world blurs into a heady haze of sensations.

Every scorching caress, every molten brush of his lips, sears me to my soul. My mind whirls with a tempest of emotions - desire, anticipation, a tantalizing hint of fear - all blending into an intoxicating cyclone. Yet at this moment, cocooned in Stefano's arms with his mouth blazing a path across my flushed skin, only one question roams my head: Where is this all coming from? And another: What happens tomorrow when he's better? So many questions swirl in my mind, but I try to push them away and enjoy the feel of his lips against my skin.

His husky voice caresses my ear with a melodic murmur of Italian endearments, the rich timbre resonating through my very core. The sound, combined with the way he holds me - gentle yet possessive - sends waves of dizzying pleasure crashing over me. I arch helplessly into his solid frame, shallow pants escaping my parted lips as his kisses grow more fervent, more demanding.

Just as the intensity reaches a dizzying peak, Stefano's motions begin to slow, his grip loosening as his movements grow languid and heavy. Confused, I pull back slightly, only to find his eyes already drifting shut, the fever medication pulling him into a deep, healing slumber. He presses one last, feather-light kiss to my cheek before his head lolls against the pillow, features finally relaxing into peaceful repose.

I watch him for a long moment, mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the thick fan of ebony lashes sweeping his chiseled cheekbones. My heart still thunders within my ribcage, yet there is a newfound serenity as well. Tenderly, I brush away the damp strands clinging to his forehead and place the gentlest of kisses there.

"Good night, Stefano," I whisper, my voice barely audible over his steady breathing.

Cradled in his arms,I revel in the warmth of his body against mine, the lingering echoes of hispassionate caresses still tingling across my skin. As I slowly surrender to thelulling rhythm of his heartbeat, I know this moment will forever be seared intomy memory - a scorching brand upon my soul that can never be erased.