Page 25 of Dark Romeo

He shook his head. “Looks like I’m eating the rabbit food.” He grabbed the bowl of berries, yogurt, and granola. “I’ll know not to order you a salad for dinner.”

Dinner?

I stopped chewing. “I’m not staying for dinner.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“Roman, you can’t keep me here.”

“I’m not. Feel free to leave. Without your clothes.”

Damn him. He had me there. I lowered my fork and crossed my arms over my chest. “If we’re going to spend the day with each other, we need some rules.”

He grinned. “It’s a bit late for hard limits, Jules.”

I fought a rising flush. “No personal questions.” If we kept things impersonal, then it would stop me from getting too attached. Right?

“What do you mean by ‘personal’ questions?”

“You know, family, work…personal stuff.”

“If I asked you if you liked maple syrup, is that too personal?” He indicated the small pot of maple syrup sitting beside the stack of pancakes.

I shifted in my chair. “No.”

“That’s good to know.” He dug into his bowl of granola.

I frowned. I was missing something. “Why is that good to know?”

“Because you’re going to suck it off my cock.”

My eyes dropped to his briefs. He was already hard. Again.

Dear God, this man was going to be the death of me.

* * *

Hours later, we lay naked and sticky from maple syrup on the plush rug on the carpet of the living area, a few cushions strewn about, a soft jazz playing from the radio. I had long since given up fighting him. I had given up trying to leave because deep down I didn’t want to. I was here, staying with him for as long as he’d let me.

“Why did you move to London eight years ago?” I asked Roman as I traced his bare chest with my finger.

He had one hand behind his head and the other brushing my side. “I thought you said no personal questions.”

I pouted. “I may have been a bit harsh.”

He studied me before saying, “Let’s make a deal. I’ll answer a personal question for every one of mine that you answer.”

I swallowed down a knot of apprehension. “Deal. So…why did you move?”

He inhaled deeply. “My father is a difficult man. My family is…complicated. We have a family business and the politics… The politics are killer. I didn’t want to be a part of it. I wanted to be my own person.”

“That’s very brave of you.”

He let out a humorless laugh. “Or desperate.”

I shook my head. “Brave,” I confirmed. “I don’t know if I could ever get the courage to leave Verona, even though…even though part of me wants to. To get out from my father’s shadow.”

He shifted closer and brushed a lock of hair from my cheek. “Why don’t you?”

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