Page 130 of Dark Romeo

“Good,” he said again. On his face was a shadow of a smile.

His eyes dropped to my mouth. His thumb brushed along my bottom lip. A shiver ran through me, my nipples instantly hardening. How was it possible that one tiny touch from him was enough to fill me with such want? He knew too, the bastard. His eyes glistened with smug hunger as they rolled over my body.

I felt myself blushing. “Aren’t… Aren’t you going to show me your mother’s apartment?” I had barely registered anything when I came in.

“Later.” Roman picked me up and wrapped my legs around his waist before pressing me up against the door.

* * *

“And this?” I picked up a small photo frame made of knobby unbaked clay edged in seashells. It had been broken once into a dozen or so pieces, but it had been glued back together. It framed a photo of a stunning woman and a young boy. I recognized those eyes. This must be Roman when he’d been a boy. And his mother.

Roman laughed as he came up behind me, snatching the photo frame out of my hands and placing it back on the shelf. He spun me to face him and draped my arms around his neck. “You’re a very curious creature.”

“Only because you never like to give anything away about yourself. The surest way to stop me from asking questions is to tell me everything.”

“Never. If I do, you’ll stop being curious about me.”

“I’ll never stop being curious.”

His eyes traced down my body. He let out a low growl. “Have I told you how incredible you look wearing just my shirt?”

I laughed. “Only about a thousand times.”

“Prepare to hear it a thousand more.” He leaned down to kiss me but I dodged his lips.

“You still haven’t told me about the seashell frame.”

He let out a long sigh and wrapped his arms around me, kissing the top of my head. “I was ten. I made it for my mother using shells that I’d collected from her favorite beach. My brothers teased me for being so sentimental and broke it. I thought she had thrown the pieces away but…she must have hidden it here and glued it back together.”

“You loved her so much, didn’t you?”

“But it wasn’t enough.”

I turned to face him. “What does that mean?”

Roman’s face cracked, a deep pain flashing in his eyes. “I loved her but I couldn’t stop her from dying.”

“You couldn’t have done anything, Roman.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand.” It came out a whisper.

“Understand what?”

“The newspapers were right. I killed her.”

JULIANNA

____________

My breath turned to stone in my windpipe. “What do you mean, you killed her?”

He rubbed his face and began to turn away.

I grabbed his arms, forcing him to face me. I could not believe that Roman killed his mother. I couldn’t. “Roman. Tell me. Please?”

He inhaled sharply and dropped his hand from his face, revealing glassy eyes. “That night she was supposed to sit up on the roof of the house with me. It was our spot. Our thing, to look at stars. She had gotten a call from my father. I knew it was him because she had that look on her face when she got off the phone, tight mouth, unfocused eyes. She told me she had to go somewhere, she wouldn’t tell me why. I was upset that she was ditching me. I had yelled at her that she didn’t love me and slammed my bedroom door in her face. I heard her apologizing through my door, begging me to unlock it, to hug her before she left. But I didn’t and she gave up. I felt like such a shit. So I ran downstairs to catch her before she left.”

Roman took in a deep breath and let it out audibly. I realized then that I had been holding mine. He sat on the bed, his shoulders slumping, as if the weight of his story was so heavy he could not hold it any longer.

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