A small grin came to my face at the thought, and Nazzareno’s eyes went straight to my lips before they did a slow rise back to my eyes.
My heart started to beat faster, and I had to steady my breaths.
It felt like a moment adrenaline junkies live for.
Skydiving.
Mountain climbing.
Jumping into shark-infested waters.
Kissing a Fausti.
His cellphone went off, and we both turned in opposite directions. He answered it by greeting whoever was on the other end of the line with his name. “Nazza-reno.”
Send help, if his looks and body didn’t kill me, that voice would. It was deep, gritty, and the most sensual thing I’d ever heard, especially with his accent. I had to stop myself from thinking about what his tongue did to the lettersRandLorImight form a puddle beneath me.
I could hear a muffled male voice coming from the speaker and glanced over my shoulder at his profile. Nazzareno glanced at me at the same time, and instead of holding my eyes, he stood and looked out of the taxi, giving me his back.
It was like the world came into focus in that second and I realized how unkempt he looked, how tired, and how stained the white parts of his tux was.
His father was…I didn’t know if he was alive or not, but the amount of blood…the state of his health couldn’t be good. And Luca…he was so cordial, as charming as the night before.
The man could sing too!
Luca didn’t seem like he had any regrets from the night before, and even though Nazzareno had showed up at the palazzo, probably because someone had called him after I’d asked for him, he had to be conflicted. His uncle had either killed his father or severely damaged him. I was no expert, but the amount of blood had to be caused by a serious weapon.
Knowing how romantic they could be, probably a sword.
From the outside looking in, this was exactly the break I’d always wanted. Something so ruthless, but at the same time romantic, to share with the world. The headline wasn’t solid, because I had no idea what had been done, but it would have been eye catching.
Gazing at Nazzareno’s back, though, I thought he seemed so human, even if otherworldly gorgeous.
His father might be dead by his uncle’s hands.
The entire time he’d been quiet, listening, and then a second passed before he hung up. He held the phone in his hand, watching as a watery world passed us by. A few seconds later, he turned and took a seat across from me.
I took a deep breath and gathered the courage to say something. “I’m sorry about your dad,” I whispered. And I realized…it was the first time I’d ever spoken to him. Had reached out and broke the filled silence with empty noise. My apology was sincere, but whatever was going on between us felt…loud, but only between the two of us.
He took a knee in front of me, and because I was not expecting him to grab my leg, I was too late to pull back. He removed one of the boots I’d haphazardly slipped on without socks. I hadn’t even had the time or energy to scrub all the blood clean. I barely had time to change out of the dress and into a sweater and jeans.
He examined my foot, turning it from left to right, gazing at the blood stains in the creases of my skin. My nails were painted black, and it looked like dirt had gotten underneath my nails. But we both knew it was more dried blood.
I tried to pull back, but his grip was tight, and I could feel the tremble in his hand, even though it wasn’t shaking. After a tense second, he looked up into my eyes. And in that moment, I remembered something Edna and I had discussed about Rocco Fausti.
His eyes were light, like Nazzareno’s, and just as beguiling. Which made them just as dangerous as dark eyes, like Brando Fausti’s, because both colors hid the monsters lurking beneath the surface.
Nazzareno had his own monster.
I went to scoot back some but didn’t want to make it obvious. There was nowhere to run to anyway. My heart started to beat overtime, my palms slick, but from something different this time.
I wasn’t afraid he would try to keep me. I was afraid he’d try to send me away.
No. No. No.
Fucking NO!
That was even more terrifying than being kept.
