“Why do you do that?”
My eyes flicked back up to his, my heart in my throat like I’d been caught red handed robbing a bank.
He brought his glass to his lips and took a drink.
“Do what?”
“Pull away.”
“I was just looking at the menu.”
A smile moved over his lips, but it wasn’t the kind he’d worn before. It was knowing, sinister, his eyes suddenly turning a little sharp. “All right, sweetheart.” He took another drink of wine but continued to stare at me.
I felt a little weak at the comment, even more uncertain of myself now. I felt like I’d stepped into a poker match with a shit hand.
The waiter approached our table and placed a wooden table beside it. He returned to the kitchen and came back with a large tray piled with fresh fish before he set it beside us. “Our fresh catch of the day, sea bass. We can prepare it Sicilian way, baked with potatoes, tomatoes, vegetables, and oil. Is this something you’re interested in?” He glanced to me, then back to Constantine.
Constantine looked across the table. “Would you like fish tonight, or did you prefer something else?”
I set the menu down. “You’re the tour guide ...”
I expected him to smile, but he didn’t. He turned back to the waiter. “We’ll split this one.” He selected one of the fish that was presented on the tray. “Sicilian style.”
The waiter nodded before he carried the fish back into the kitchen.
Constantine took another drink of his wine before he returned his glass to the table. “One of the things I like about this place. You get the freshest catch prepared authentically by people who take pride in their cooking.”
“I’m sure it’ll be delicious.” I grabbed the glass he’d poured for me and took a drink. I let the previous tension fade away at the change of subject. I felt grateful for it, because the way he’d looked at me ... I’d never forget it.
I felt like I’d just met a different version of him. “So, where do you live in Rome?” I didn’t want to invade his privacy too much, but now that we’d spent the last couple days together, I felt like I could ask him.
He answered right away. “The Parioli area.”
“That’s a nice neighborhood.” Which convinced me even more that he was wealthy. Really wealthy. Like significantly richer than a millionaire. I didn’t have a ton of evidence for it except for the watch and the room he rented at the hotel, but his presence implied it.
“What about you?”
“The Prati area.” I was just across the river from the Pantheon and the Trevi Fountain. I could also see the dome of Saint Peter’s Basilica through my living room window. Well, myoldliving room, because I’d be moving out the second this fuck-cation was over.
“Also a nice area. You must do well with your photography.”
“Not really,” I said with a laugh. “I can only afford it because—” I swallowed, realizing the corner I’d just backed myself into. “Because I have a roommate.” Because Enzo made good money working at his hedge fund company. I reached for my wineglass and took a drink, needing the bile of memory to be washed away.
Constantine said nothing. He just stared at me across the table like I might say more.
I cleared my throat. “How long have you lived there?”
He didn’t answer the question right away. He continued his stare like his mind was elsewhere, so far away that it took time for him to come back to me. “Five years. You?”
“All my life.” All the historic sites of that ancient city were second nature to me. Millions of tourists came to the Eternal City every year to see what I got to enjoy every single day. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d done a shoot at the Colosseum or the Trevi Fountain. Ancient Roman history was just ... history to me.
“What’s your family like?”
“Well, I don’t really have a family. Just a few friends.”
He didn’t press further with his words, but his eyes dug into me.
“My dad took off when I was young. Being a parent wasn’t for him. And then my mom died.”
