Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Domenico removed temptation by taking the Glock 43 from me. Then Rafa shocked me by saying, “It’s a good thing I insisted you rent a two-bedroom unit because Domenico is moving in with you so that he can guard you twenty-four seven.”
“Is that really necessary?” I forced the question past stiff lips, uncertain if I should be upset by the idea because it meant more torture for me…or thrilled since being around me all day and night would hopefully make it harder for Domenico to resist temptation.
“It is,” Rafa confirmed before filling me in on Oswald’s threats. “So either Domenico stays with you, or you move back in with me.”
I was so furious that it was difficult to speak, but I needed to make sure Rafa and Domenico understood how angry I was over their deliberate failure to disclose any of this to me until now. “I get that there are lots of things you have to keep from me because I’m not involved in Family business, but Opal is my friend. Helping her was my business. Keeping me in the dark, especially when I’m the one in danger, is not okay. And I’m not moving back in with my big brother! I’m not a kid anymore, and it’s past time that both of you stop treating me like one.”
6
DOMENICO
Ithought my soul was black enough to send me to hell, but after moving in with Gabriella, I realized I was already there.
Every day, I told myself to send her to her brother’s house and end this torture, yet every damn day, I couldn’t bring myself to let her go.
“Good morning, Domenico.”
Gabriella’s soft, sleepy voice floated to my ears, and her honeysuckle and jasmine scent filled my lungs. Who needed morning coffee when they could soak up all of Gabriella’s sweetness?
Steeling myself against the lust I knew was about to slam into me, I slowly turned away from the living room window. I’d been scanning the street for anything out of place, and once again, lecturing my dick to stand the fuck down.
I nearly sighed in relief when she padded across the room toward the kitchen in a T-shirt and shorts, although they showed off far too much of her long, sexy legs. Motherfucker! Stop picturing them wrapped around your head, De Angelis!
“Buongiorno, Gabriella.”
Her brown eyes melted whenever I spoke to her in Italian, and it was a guilty pleasure that I couldn’t seem to quit.
“Aston has me building the newest exhibit at the gallery, so I’ll be meeting with several collectors and museum curators over the next week.”
Aston managed The Family’s largest art gallery and museum in Atlanta. He was also one of the world’s most talented forgers and handled all of the smuggling operations in and out of France—where he was from. His brother, Charles, still lived there and ran things from the Paris end of the operation.
“He mentioned it when we spoke yesterday.” I took a drink from my mug. “I have the list of places you need to visit.”
Gabriella’s lips twisted with annoyance, which shouldn't have looked adorable, but she managed it somehow. “I am perfectly capable of managing my life, Domenico. You’re my bodyguard, not my babysitter.”
“Fidati di me, sole, I see the woman you’ve grown into. That’s the problem.”
Gabriella’s jaw went slack as she gaped at me, and it hit me that I’d said the last part out loud. Shit.
“Go get ready, Gabriella,” I ordered gruffly.
Her mouth opened and closed a few times, and I knew she was trying to formulate a response. I couldn’t go there. Talking about my desire for her would make it real. At least this way, I could lie to myself that it was all in my head.
“Domenico—”
“We aren’t discussing this, Gabriella. Go.”
Her lips compressed into a straight line, and her eyes clouded with resentment. “You can’t avoid a discussion about us forever, Domenico.”
“There is no us, sole.”
Gabriella glared at me before spinning around and marching back to her bedroom.
I heard the shower turn on and shook my head to clear away the fantasies of her wet, naked body. Water sliding down every curve, her silky skin pressed against mine—fuck! I barely avoided throwing my mug at the nearest wall as I struggled to reclaim my self-discipline.
Clenching the cup in my hand, I stalked to the kitchen and poured the remaining contents down the sink. Then I gripped the edge of the counter and took several deep, slow breaths.
Even as a child, I’d been a master of my emotions. They were there. I wasn’t dead inside. I simply had a tight rein on them, allowing me to pick and choose the times when they were appropriate. When Gabriella returned from New York, it was the first time I felt a fissure in the walls I’d built around myself. Being so close to her every day, every minute, I felt those fractures growing into cracks. With enough pressure, I was afraid she would breach them completely.