“You’ll do it because it’s what he wants you to do,” I remind her as we leave the house once she grabs her backpack from where it waits by the front door.“Besides, he’s already looking better.It was a spell, that’s all.”
“A spell?”she scoffs, shaking her head.“I would expect everybody else to offer weak comfort like that, but not you.You, I expect the truth from.”
The truth is, he might be dying.
The truth is, it’s no wonder he wants to step down and let Dante take over.He can’t handle things the way he used to.A simple fight with his daughter, and he winds up with palpitations or whatever that was.
We come to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, where the car still runs.When I open the door, though, she doesn’t move.The cool breeze stirs her hair, sending vanilla-scented sweetness my way.It washes over me, lighting up parts of my brain that have been dark for too long.
“I did that to him,” she murmurs.“It was my fault.I could have killed him.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.”It’s a thoughtless response, and I regret it before she has the chance to flinch.
Her features pinch together in pain, and there’s a poison edge to her voice when she retorts, “What you call dramatic, other people call having actual human emotions.”
“What I meant was, you can’t blame yourself.He’ll be fine.And now, you know to take it easy on him.”
Is this happening?Am I coaching a Santoro through protecting a man I’ve hated my entire life?The enemy.The man in control of what should have rightfully been ours, according to Dad, anyway.
I made it my mission to destroy him, and now I’m coaching his daughter through coping with his health crisis.
That’s not the most surprising part.
Neither is the moment she turns toward me, leaning against me, her cheek touching my chest, and for one brief, sweet moment…
She doesn’t say a word.
Neither do I.
I’m too busy wrestling with the surprise of my arms wrapping around her.She fits perfectly against me, my chin touching the top of her head.We aren’t enemies now.We aren’t adversaries.She isn’t the infuriating brat who only infuriates me more by being so damned alluring.
She’s someone who needs a friend.I’m someone who understands all too well how empty life can be once friends are cut away one by one.
Yet when she raises her head and those unfathomably huge eyes find mine, friendship is the last thing on my mind.Deep, driving, primal hunger wraps itself around me and leaves me wondering what those plump, pouty lips would taste like.
My head lowers a few inches before I know what I’m doing, my mouth seeking hers.She’s here, she’s soft, she’s warm and willing, and she wants me.There’s no doubt in my mind.
Just as there’s no doubt in my mind that I’d lose my balls if one of the Santoro men saw us like this.
Amazing how suddenly desire can fizzle when castration is on the line.
“Come on,” I whisper, releasing her against my wishes since I like my balls where they are.“Let’s get moving.”It isn’t easy to ignore the hurt written across her face or the way her cheeks flush like she’s embarrassed, but it’s for the best.
One of us has to be smart about this.
I’m so lost in my conflicted thoughts that we’re halfway to the city before I remember the fight I overheard.
A fight that most likely started with her complaining about me.All weekend long, according to Rocco and Dante.She wanted to get rid of me, but the second there was trouble, who did she turn to?
And how good did that feel?
She might have had the right idea, campaigning against me.I started this shit job knowing she would drive me crazy, right?
It’s only been two weeks, and I came damn close to kissing her where anyone might have seen and strung me up for it.
9
GIULIA
