She narrowed her eyes. “Please tell me they’re not mafia related.”
He chuckled, brushing her fingers in a way that set her pulse stuttering. “Not that.”
“Then what?”
“Darling,you deserve beautiful things. Even if you have a habit of throwing stilettos at them.”
“No fine print?” she pressed, her voice low and unsteady.
“You can take it and never look back.”
She glanced at the door. Was that what she wanted? To take the bag and bolt? “Just for fun—are there any other options?”
“You could stay.” His eyes held hers steady. “Put me through my paces. Make me prove I’ve changed. That I’m not the same asshole who tried to control you.”
Her heart loved that option so much it practically launched itself across the table and kissed him. Thank God the rest of her body had more restraint. “That doesn’t sound unbearable. But why would I waste my redemption energy on you?”
“Because I love you.” His voice cracked. “And I know I don’t deserve you. But I’m hoping you’ll let me prove I can be worthy of you. Francesca B…” His throat worked. “I’m so sorry.”
I’m sorry!
Damn it. He had to go and say the one thing that proved he didn’t get her at all. Who was she if not gloriously, unapologetically unforgiving?
“Why’d you have to go and ruin everything with an apology?”
“Because you deserve one.”
“Apologies are for the lily-livered.”
He gave a small smile, eyes warm. “Cut me open, and I’m sure there’s a lily in there somewhere. But I’m hoping you’ll look past that.”
“Why would I do that?” she demanded.
“I’m glad you asked.” His grin turned pure cocky bastard. “Let’s just say my skill at foreplay more than makes up for a faulty liver.”
She gave a faux-bored yawn. “Does it now? I can’t seem to remember.”
He chuckled, low and dangerous. “I suspected you might say that. So here’s my last argument. One you can accept or not.”
“Better be brilliant. I hate winning easy.” Her heart thudded a warning: make it count, or she’d walk away without a backward glance.
“Damaged livers can heal,” he said steadily. “Mine’s flawed. But give me time to prove I love you, and it’ll work itself out. If a pickled liver can heal, then surely a liliefied one can too.”
“Liliefied? Did you just make that up?” She arched a brow. “You can’t slap flowers onto body parts and call it romance.”
“Agree to disagree.”
“Please tell me you have more to add to this conversation than that pithy phrase.”
A wry smile tugged at his lips. “I know fixing my egregious apology flaw won’t be as easy as flipping a switch…one day a lily-liver, the next a Frankie-approved boyfriend. But I’m willing to do the work.”
She tapped a nail against her lip, stalling even as her chest pulled tighter. “How long is that going to take? I’m not exactly known for my patience.”
He winked. “While you’ve mastered perfection, I may stumble. So how about this? We build in a few hundred screwups I’m allowed while I learn how to deserve you.”
She mock-shuddered. “And I’m supposed to trust you’re worth this great sacrifice on my part?”
“In and out of the bedroom,” he husked, flashing a smile that made her toes curl inside her heels.
