Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
My fingers moved under her chin, and I lifted her mouth to mine. I planted a soft kiss there, an embrace that was gentler than any other. I kept my eyes open as I looked into hers, watching the emotion enter her gaze as the kiss continued. When I pulled away, it didn’t seem like she wanted the kiss to end. “Me neither.”
16
Siena
When I finished work at the gallery, I stepped outside and prepared to walk to the restaurant where we were meeting. Instead, a black car pulled up, all the windows tinted and bulletproof.
The man in the passenger seat got out of the car then opened the back door for me.
I knew who was waiting in the back seat.
I sat down and saw Cato beside me, his knees apart and his hands resting on his thighs. He wore a different suit than he had that morning. Now it was navy blue and crisp like it’d just been pressed. His blue eyes were more stunning when he wore the color on his hard physique. The more time I spent with him, the more terrified I felt. All of this was just a ploy to get what I wanted, and now that I actually liked the guy, I was so conflicted.
“Baby.” He grabbed my hand and rested it on his thigh, holding me like a man held his wife. His thumb brushed over my knuckles, and he held me delicately, his enormous hand having the power to crush mine.
The words died in my throat.
The car took us to the restaurant, and we walked inside. Like last time, we sat in a private section away from the rest of the public. It was quiet, only the sound of the music overhead audible. I couldn’t even hear the other guests from the restaurant.
Cato looked at his menu. “Something wrong?”
My pulse quickened in my neck. “Just hungry.”
“Then what are you having? Something with cheese, I’m guessing?” He placed the menu to the side, a playful look in his eyes.
I forced a smile even though my stomach was full of acid. “You know me so well.” I set my menu down and sipped my wine. Something about the way he’d left that morning made the guilt suffocate me. I thought about my father every single day, but now that I spent most of my time with this man, I felt torn. Betraying him didn’t feel right anymore. Maybe he did criminal things, but he seemed like a decent human being to me.
He stared at me for a long time, his powerful gaze drilling into mine without a single blink. If this was how he stared down his clients, it was no surprise he always got what he wanted. A man was truly powerful if he could negotiate in silence. That was something I learned from my father, but Cato was a better example of it. “How was work?”
My job at the gallery was so simple it was boring sometimes. “Good. I’ve found a few pieces for your home. I’ll show you the next time you’re available.”
“I’m always available for you.”
My pulse quickened even more. “I’ll bring them by tomorrow afternoon, then.”
“Alright. Pack a bag.”
The only time I’d slept over had been awkward. I was in a hurry to get out of there, but he wanted me to stay. I’d remained detached and indifferent, and that attitude worked well. It made Cato more interested. Perhaps if I hadn’t been that way, I never would have been special to him. “Should I just barge in?”
When he smiled, he looked so ridiculously handsome. It was a rare sight because he hardly ever grinned, and when he did, it was breathtaking. Made him look more like a man than a villain. When we first met, he was such an asshole, but when he dropped his arrogant exterior, he was charming. It was the real him—and it was obvious he didn’t show that version to anyone. “I think that’s fair.”
I took a sip of my wine then examined the bottle. “Barsetti Vineyards again.”
“Can’t go wrong.”
“Do you know the Barsetti family?”
“I met Crow Barsetti once. It was a few years ago.”
“Were you buying wine from him?”
“No. It was related to business.” He didn’t elaborate, no doubt because it involved money and threats. He didn’t share that information with me, probably because he just didn’t want to talk about it.
“How was your day?” I asked to be polite, not because I expected a real answer.
“It was another day,” he said noncommittally. “I have a lot of projects going on right now, and I’m keeping everyone in line.”
“You’re probably going to be pissed at me for saying this—”
“Then don’t say it.” His voice was as cold as ice. His blue eyes shared the same arctic temperature.
I stilled at the subtle way he threatened me, and I was reminded who I was dealing with. “Life is too short not to be happy. You’re so rich that you don’t have to do any of this anymore. Do you ever think about handing everything over to your brother and just walking away?” I shouldn’t care about his safety, but there were dozens of men who wanted him dead at any moment in time. How could he sleep at night?