Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“I—I just assumed this was casual—”
“Answer the question.”
“I would, but you keep interrupting me.”
He remained serious, but a slow smirk moved over his lips.
“I assumed this was casual. I assumed something beyond tomorrow was off the table.”
“Why?”
“Have you seen you?” I asked incredulously. “Men like you don’t stick around.”
“Men like me?” He cocked his head, furrowing his eyebrows. “What’s that mean?”
“Ridiculously hot. Wealthy. Smart. You wait until the very last minute to settle down with a girl, usually in your forties, and then you’ll marry a twenty-five-year-old. I assumed we wouldn’t see each other after the holiday was over. Seems presumptuous to assume anything else.”
That smirk deepened. “This is the part where you tell me what you want. Or do I have to ask again?”
“Of course I want you, Constantine.” Of course I wanted this to continue, but this man could rip my heart out of my chest and kill me instantly—physically and emotionally. “But truth is, I just got out of a relationship, and I should probably heal first. What I’ve been doing this week is just . . . pretending the pain isn’t there.”
He watched me with those hard eyes.
“But yes, I still want to keep seeing you.”
That seemed to be the answer he wanted, because he sat back in his chair. “You can stay with me when we return to Rome.”
“What do you mean, stay with you?”
“You have to move out of your old apartment, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Stay with me until you find your new place.”
This man was too good to be true. I had to be missing something. Something that was right in front of my fucking face. “What aren’t you telling me?”
His eyes narrowed at the question. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
“They say if something is too good to be true, then it probably is. Knowing this was going to end made it easy not to think about anything too hard, but now I have to question everything. Because you can’t be this perfect. It can’t be this easy.” It just can’t. “So, what am I missing?”
He considered the question for a long time before he found an answer. “You’re a smart woman. I can tell you’ve pieced things together.”
I knew he was talking about his job.
“I’m in a dangerous and violent line of business. The most dangerous business you could possibly be in. I would never let anything happen to you, but I won’t lie to you. Being associated with me puts you at risk. That’s the catch.”
It was my opportunity to ask the questions that sat heavily in my mind, but my tongue wouldn’t move. I suspected his criminal affairs, but I wasn’t sure how to confront them.
“I understand if I’m not worth that risk.” He grabbed his glass and took a drink, like he didn’t just dump a mountain of stress on my shoulders.
“Are—are you in Cosa Nostra?”
“No. But I’m well acquainted.” He said it unapologetically, not sheathing parts of the truth or mincing words. “Take your time. Think it over.”
“Have you had other relationships while . . . in this line of business?”
“No.”
“Because they were too afraid?”
His eyes flicked back and forth between mine. “Because I’ve never wanted anyone more than a night. The last nine years of my life have been filled with one-night stands, hookups, casual situationships, and prostitutes.”
“Prostitutes.” I repeated the word because I couldn’t believe he’d said it.
“Yes,” he said like he was answering a question.
“What does a man like you need a prostitute for?”
He gave a shrug. “Sometimes it’s just easier. Just say what you want. Get off the way you want. Transaction complete.”
I couldn’t believe he’d said that to me—point blank.
“You look disappointed.”
“I—I just wasn’t expecting that.”
“I don’t like to sugarcoat things. I’d rather get straight to the point. If you have a problem with it, then it’s better I tell you now before we go any further down this road. Walk away if you want. I’ll never lie to make a woman stay.”
I was taken aback by his honesty. So much so that I didn’t know what to say. “You just didn’t need to tell me that. I didn’t ask if you slept with prostitutes. So you wouldn’t have lied.”
“Not directly, but by omission,” he said. “I don’t do that either.”
I was still a bit flustered by all this.
“Would you rather be with a man who gives it to you straight? Or be with a man who lies, drags out the truth, wastes your time? I thought I knew the answer to that, but maybe I don’t.”
“I’m sorry, you just caught me off guard. Offered to let me stay with you and then told me you were a criminal who fucks prostitutes. It’s a lot to absorb in the span of a few minutes.”
He smirked. “I wouldn’t call myself a criminal.”
“You kill people, don’t you?” We probably shouldn’t be having this conversation on the outdoor terrace of a small bar, but once it started, it just rolled.