“Eavesdropping is defined as secretly listening without the other party’s knowledge. I’m pretty sure that your father’s shouts could be heard all the way in Catania.”
“Semantics,” I grumble.
“What did he mean by ‘this is the fourth time’ that Bratva has been searching for you?”
“I have a record of periodically running away from home for a handful of days. The last time I did it, I was seventeen.”
“Your way of trying to draw attention to yourself?”
“I wasn’t trying to get attention.” I sigh. “My father is an overprotective, controlling, and utterly paranoid man who loves his children more than anything in this world. The way he shows that love, however, can be a bit too much to process. Sometimes, it makes me feel as if I’m suffocating. When I was younger, I didn’t know how to deal with it. So a few times, I slipped away and spent a couple of days with one of my friends to decompress.”
”Did it help?”
“Somewhat. It’s not as if I could confide in anyone. You know, I have no idea why I told you all of this.”
“Because you’re drunk.”
“Maybe.” I pick up a small pebble from the ground and throw it toward the sea. It doesn’t reach it, of course, just rolls down the rocky hill, coming to rest buried somewhere in the grass. “Don’t hurt my family. Please.”
“Keep your part of our deal, and I won’t.”
“They didn’t do anything to you. Why should they bear the consequences of my deeds?”
“Because when you’re engaged in a high-stakes game, vespetta, you’re never alone on that playing field.”
Another sigh leaves my lips. “Will you let me call them again?”
“Yes. If I’m not here, you can ask Guido.”
“I would rather avoid all contact with your brother unless there isn’t another choice.”
We aren’t even touching, yet I instantly feel the moment Rafael stills behind me. “What did he do?” The words sound strained.
“Nothing. He just made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t want me here.” I slowly scramble to my feet, needing to distance myself from this man. His closeness is so much more pleasing than it should be. “We have that in common since I don’t want to be here, either.”
The ground seems to be moving under my feet, making me stumble as I take a step forward. A thick male arm wraps around my middle, crushing me to a hard-muscled chest.
“Let go,” I mumble, while everything around me seems to be spinning.
“And watch you take a nosedive?” His cheek brushes my temple as he speaks next to my ear. “I don’t think so.”
“I won’t—”
A yelp escapes me when Rafael slides his other hand under my knees and lifts me into his arms. Since the moment he sat behind me, my heart has been beating double-time, but now, it feels like it’s going to explode. My awareness of him is so consuming that my mind blanks on everything else. I don’t even try arguing. We’re so close that I can feel his breath on my lips. At this distance, I can make out a little more of his face—the short stubble along his chin and the prominent eyebrows over his shaded eyes—but his overall features remain hidden, veiled by the night.
The scent of cypress and oranges tingles my nostrils as Rafael carries me up the uneven stone steps that lead to the mansion. Olive trees line the trail on either side, creating a natural canopy and a tunnel-like atmosphere over the winding path. Once in a while, moonlight breaks through the overhead branches and casts sharp angular shadows that dance across his face. With mere inches between us, I can feel every movement of his powerful frame. The vibrations send an electric current zipping through all of my cells directly to my spine.
And lower.
It shouldn’t feel this good, being snuggled into him like this. But it does. Maybe it’s the wine. I don’t feel that drunk, but I don’t see any other explanation for why I enjoy being held by him so much.
“If I say I’m sorry for being a shitty host, will you accept my gift?”
I raise an eyebrow. “I’ll certainly consider it. But you’d need to actually say it.”
A deep, thunderous roar fills the darkness as he laughs.
“I’m sorry for my insolence,” he says, amusement still lingering in his tone. “And for the treatment you received from my men. Hank has been sent back to Chicago, so he won’t bother you again.” These words carry none of the mirth of the earlier statement.
“Alone? What about his sidekick, Vinny?”
“Vinny . . . has been dismissed.”
“You fired him?”
“Mm-hmm. I guess you could say that.” He bends as we pass under one of the lower branches, and his cheek brushes my forehead. “I’ll have someone drive you to Taormina tomorrow so you can buy whatever clothes you need.” His cologne tingles my nostrils, but not in that irritating way that makes me want to sneeze. Oh no. It beckons me, urging me to get closer and take another sniff.
“Can’t you take me?” I blurt out.
Rafael halts. I can feel his chest rise and fall.
“I can,” he says, his voice sounding clipped as he resumes his stride. “But if you change your mind, I’ll have Otto drive you.”
“Why would I change my mind?”
He does not answer.
We emerge from the rock garden and approach the mansion across the immaculate lawn. There are no more trees around us, just fresh-smelling grass and fragrant flower beds, bathed in the soft light of the moon. Those lines on Rafael’s face which I thought were dancing shadows? They stay in place, despite the lack of branches above our heads.
