Sam gripped his forearm and shook him. “Alessandro?”
Gripping his neck, he shook his head. “I do remember being in love,” he said softly, shocking her anew. A fleeting flash of warmth made his gray eyes pop before they defaulted to blankness. “Feeling as if I couldn’t stop smiling. As if the world was a symphony of colors and sensations. But reckless and foolish and out of touch with reality…no. I never had that luxury.”
For the first time since they’d met, Sam felt the awareness between them shift and morph, fractured by something so painful that she instinctively hated it. Curiosity about his past and the fear of what she’d find battled it out inside her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I’m not so delicate that your paltry insults wound me, Ms. Fischer.” He leaned forward over the table, pinning her under his weighty gaze. “Now I have a question for you.”
She waited.
“Did you run away from home?”
Sam sighed. Of course he’d overheard her angry call with her mother yesterday. “Iamtwenty-three so the wholerunning awayidea sounds wrong. But yes. How old are you?”
His nostrils flared.
Sam flushed. God, he knew what direction her thoughts were going in.
There was no mockery, no satisfaction when he said, “Thirty-eight.”
Instead of serving as a deterrent, his age only made her more curious. Who was the woman he’d been talking about when he said he’d been in love? Why wasn’t he with her now? Or perhaps he was in a relationship even as she had filthy dreams about him?
“Do you—” his jaw clenched “—need protection from your parents? Are they abusive?”
“What? Jeez, no.” Her laughter cut off at his serious expression. “If anything, they’re extra protective. Like pumped-up-on-steroids extra. They love me too much, if we can call it that. Beyond common sense and reason.” His continued frown made her elaborate. “I grew up pretty sheltered. This is the first time I’ve ever traveled without either of them watching over me, checking my every… And I did it without telling them.”
“What if Matteo had been—”
“A horrible villain who took advantage of poor old me?” she said, irritation replacing the earlier warmth. “Is there no Off button to you?”
“I’m the one who cleans up his messes.”
After three days with him, Sam could see the situation objectively.
Matteo was charming, fun, larger-than-life. But she hadn’t missed that he drifted into the easiest paths in life. “I’ve known Matteo for nearly five years,” she said, wanting Alessandro to understand. “Yes, he lied to me. Yes, he started dating Angelina while we were not yet over. Yes, he got engaged to her and didn’t even have the decency to tell me. But that doesn’t make the entirety of our relationship a lie. I know the distinction.”
“Do you? You admit your upbringing was sheltered.”
Her temper flared. “Either you respect me enough to know my own mind or you don’t. If it’s the second, please get out.”
Gray eyes gleamed with humor. “I’ve never been dismissed with such politeness before.”
Her anger vanished as fast as it came. “I wonder anyone ever dared dismiss you at all.”
He dipped his head, and a thick lock of hair flopped onto his forehead. Combined with his grin, he looked younger, much more relaxed. “So your parents do not know where you are.”
God, the man had tunnel vision. “They didn’t know until yesterday when I told them on the phone. They didn’t know I have a valid passport and a visitor’s visa. This trip was my step toward freedom.”
Getting everything ready for the trip, calling the hospitals nearby, getting her travel medical insurance sorted, making sure she had enough medication for the trip, shopping for essentials, contacting friends of friends to establish a network of reliable people if the need should arise—all of it had been a big step toward trusting herself. Toward flying out of the safety of her nest. With her next step toward college all mapped out for the summer.
And she’d succeeded too.
She was here. And she hadn’t fallen apart at the news of Matteo’s engagement.
“Your parents were asking after Matteo on the call,” Mr. Ricci prompted, deflating her imaginary fist bump.
Leaning her forearms on the table, she glared at him. “Did you listen to the entire conversation?”
“Your mother’s voice was loud.”
