Maybe I just caught him thinking about whatever it is that’s been weighing so heavy on his mind.Because there is something, I know it, and it has nothing to do with me.I’d made all sorts of plans on how I’m going to get it out of him and help him deal with it during the night.
And I’ve never been someone that’s easily deterred.I get that from my dad.
So I grab my beach bag, tell my sisters I’ll see them later and leave the apartment before either of them can ask any questions.Chiara was going to, but Lidia just waved to me without lifting her eyes off the book.
“I want to go to the beach,” I say as soon as I’m out in the hallway, alone with Matteo.
His gaze glides over me, making me feel like I’m still wearing all silk and not an ivory pants suit that’s the closest to gold outfit I have that’s also suitable for the beach.I’m also wearing my big sun hat, with a black ribbon, a black belt that accentuates my waist and my curves, and platform shoes, which I hope will not be impossible to walk in on the sand.And if they are, I’ll just take them off and carry them.Or he can carry me.
The darkness is mostly gone from his eyes as he finally meets mine.
“Well, you’re dressed for it,” he says, the tiniest semblance of a grin on his lips.
I bet he’d be the most beautiful man alive if he smiled.Too bad he’s probably never going to at the rate he’s going.
“And you’re not, but you’re taking me anyway,” I say.“Maybe we can pick you up a T-shirt on the way.”
He narrows his eyes at me, hateful darkness flooding them again.
“There you go giving me orders again, Princess,” he says quietly, menacingly.“I don’t like that.”
“And I don’t like you calling me Princess,” I counter.“I prefer Goldie.”
I smile to try and soften this sharp turn in the master/servant territory conversation is taking, but it does absolutely nothing to soften the black anger on his.It’s funny.Dark, angry, rough men like him usually scare me.He should scare me most of all, because he’s a stranger and the roughest, most rage and hate filled man I’ve ever met.But I have absolutely no problem talking back to him, bantering with him, or poking at him.I was more scared of him while I was sitting in my bedroom alone than I am now, standing in front of him with only a couple of inches of air between his dark gaze and me.
I’m pretty sure he’s thinking he doesn’t care at all what I’d prefer right now, but what he says is.“So how do you usually get to the beach?”
“Someone drives me,” I say.“And today, it’s going to be you.”
His face doesn’t change at all yet somehow, I can still tell he hates that idea more than hell itself.I must be insane even wanting to go anywhere with him.But the idea gripped me the moment I woke up this morning and it’s been pulling me forward since, right up to this moment where I’m standing here begging to be taken to the beach.
But it’s him.He’s pulling me to him like a magnet.I have no hope of fighting it.I’ll know no peace until I…
Until I what?Kiss him?Sleep with him?That’s not how I usually think.What is happening to me?
And going by the darkness in his face it’s the last thing he’s thinking.The very last.
Luckily, Rafaelle walks out of the rooms adjacent to my parents’ penthouse which they use as their security HQ.
“Good morning, Ms.Gianna,” he says.“Do you want to go for another outing?”
It’s impossible to tell what he thinks about that idea from the tonelessness of his voice.I definitely liked him a lot better when he was my brother’s second.He had life in him then.Could even be fun.Now he’s just this walking statue.Always proper, always calm, always boring.
“To the beach, actually,” I say.“I want to go to the beach.”
The barest hint of annoyance flickers in Rafaelle’s eyes, but then he’s calm again.
“Good, I’ll take you,” he says.
I glance at Matteo.“I thought he was going to take me.”
Rafaelle actually scoffs.“He can’t be trusted to take you.Yet.”
I actually feel the air around Matteo get sucked into him like a vortex of rage and hate.He mutters something too, low enough that I can’t make out the words.And a good thing too.Because I’m sure I wouldn’t like them.
“But yesterday he could come with me.What changed?”I protest.
“Yesterday was a test,” Rafaelle says.
