“It’s up to you Anita.” I admitted. My deals meant nothing when she would easily stamp the words into dust under her stubborn heel. That didn’t mean I was giving up. I would never stop trying to fix what was between us.
“I don’t want to be even.” Her words seemed to surprise her as she glanced up, lashes framing her wide eyes.
My chin hit my chest, and I closed my eyes. For a second, I thought she was going to give me something. That she would see this for what it really was. Not a bargain. But the only choice I had. Because I would do anything and everything for Anita. The soft swell of her breasts crushed against my chest. My eyes flew open as her lips fused to mine. She kept me immobile with her iron grip on my tie, not that I would have moved for anything.
She wasn’t soft in pleasure. She was a decadent danger. Tension thrummed through me as I anticipated the claim of her teeth. There was a familiar sharpness. An urgency and sharp hunger that only amplified when I felt the light scrape of her teeth on my bottom lip.
But then it was over. Too soon. She stumbled two steps backward, her fingers flying to her lips.
“There, now you’re in my debt again,” her voice was thick.
I didn’t respond. My head spun, and my heart thundered as if she’d thrown me off the edge of a cliff. Her legs blurred as she fled the room, but I continued to fall. My stomach flipped with shock and awe.
I knew I’d made the right choice.
21
Age 19
“I want to go home.” I dropped my full champagne glass on a side table. Paolo let out a sigh so loud that a group of women looked over and tittered. I smoothed down my layered skirt, wishing I’d worn something more modern. The women returned to their animated conversation, and I admired their patterned column dresses. I didn’t want to be here at the annual meeting of all the families that worked under the Orazios’ umbrella. Paolo insisted I attend, and I’d stayed long enough to be noted. Now, I wanted to go home to my plants.
“You can’t go, I need to introduce you to someone.” Paolo herded me with an arm and marched me over to a tall man. He was leaning over the balcony of the Orazio’s house, looking out over their manicured garden. Cicadas chittered in the thick bushes, breaking the silence. When he turned, my stomach dropped, and I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth.
Romeo Orazio?
“Paolo…” I fought against my cousin’s insistent grip until we were standing right in front of Romeo. Everyone knew who he was. He was anOrazio,for Pete’s sake.
“This is my cousin, Anita Bianco. Anita, this is Romeo Orazio.”
He reached out and brought my hand up to press his warm lips to my knuckles. His eyes were glittering warm crystals. My heart fluttered like a bird trapped in my ribcage. I was going to kill Paolo when I got out of here.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Anita.”
Romeo was difficult to look away from. It was the elegant curl of his lips, the length of his fingers as he tapped against his knee. The way he unhooked a solitary button on his shirt. Teasing me with a sliver of sculpted chest. It was an affliction, a stress response. I’d latched onto something familiar as I flailed against his confessions.
He was defying his father. For me.
My stomach fluttered, and my knees felt suspiciously soft. It was unacceptable. The tingle of his lips lingered like an illicit tattoo. Why had I done that? Now he would think his advances were working, that I’d forgive him. Still, my gaze roved, drinking in the inky shadow of his dark hair, the way his shoulders claimed the back of the settee. My heart raced, unhitched from its confines. The kiss had unraveled the careful work I’d done ofdismantling my girlish crush on Romeo. Now, my skin prickled at his proximity. I could reach out and taste him again, sink my teeth into his lower lip, and collect the moans he made.
“Anita?” Paolo nudged me with his elbow. “Are you listening?”
I ducked my head with a scowl. Caught gawking. It was untenable. I’d fled Romeo after the disastrous decision to kiss him but had to slink back, eventually. I’d made him wait a day to discuss our plans, my mortification overriding logic. Romeo’s eyes glinted like sea glass, and my tongue thickened in my mouth.
“While we’re here, there is something I need to tell you.” Romeo leaned forward. “I didn’t intend to keep this from you, but with your illness and this mess.” He blew out a frustrated breath. It piqued my curiosity.
“It couldn’t be more important than this, surely?” Paolo passed me a glass of water, and I took a sip. Hoping it would melt the knot lodged there.
“It is,” Romeo bit out, unfolding to stand. He chewed on his lower lip as he paced, unable to elaborate. The tension in his body sent warning careening through me. What could he possibly have to say that would elicit such a reaction? He stared at me. My body burned with the force of emotion that agonized in the lines of his face. “I can’t tell you. You have to see it to believe it.”
Without waiting for a response, he strode to the entryway. Paolo and I exchanged a perplexed look. Romeo waited for us, tossing a hat and heavy coat at Paolo.
“Put this on and keep your head down,” he ordered. He’d used my absence yesterday to inform his dad that he’d done as he’d asked. Romeo had told him he was busy dealing with the body today.
“Shouldn’t I stay here? Wouldn’t that be safest?” he argued, and Romeo shook his head. His hands curled into fists.
“Anita will need you.” With that cryptic comment, he turned on his heel. He shrugged off my attempts to get him to speak. I resorted to glaring out the window, discombobulated by the tumultuous emotions in my stomach. My irrational paranoia played a myriad of worst-case scenarios until my stomach cramped. Vision blurred as we turned down a secluded trail far from town. The road was overgrown with foliage, a giant hole sunk in the dirt road rocked the car off-kilter. Romeo gripped the wheel, coaxing the car through the overhanging growth.
“What is this place?” Paolo asked, wariness deepening his tone. I couldn’t blame him. Romeo had dropped shocking news on us both and driven us to an abandoned cottage. There was a wooden fence surrounding the area, but it’d been stripped by time and weather. Gray and flaked, a sad accompaniment to the small, dilapidated cottage. There were boards nailed to the windows, and a crawling vine had claimed one side. Making it sag under its heavy weight.
