Page 66 of Born into Sin

I hear his soft laugh, but he gives me what I want. Still carrying me, he walks over and shuts off the light before standing in the middle of the room. We’re still in the city, but Dominic has enough space here to allow for an unobstructed view of the sky. It doesn’t look like the night sky at the farmhouse, but it’s still beautiful and giving me a view of the stars and the crescent moon that looks like it’s smiling down on us.

“This is amazing. Why was the door shut? Don’t you spend any time in here?”

“Not really,” he says.

I look back down at him. “But it’s gorgeous in here.” I look around at the nearly empty room. “You need one of those hammock chairs, though, so you can get comfy and watch the sky.”

The corner of his mouth lifts up in an easy smile. “This may come as a shock, but I’m kind of a workaholic, and I don’t really get comfy.”

He says the last two words like they’re completely foreign to him. I give him another quick kiss before he sets me down in one of the chairs.

“We’re going to need to work on that,” I tell him.

He just laughs and leaves to go grab the food. My mouth starts to water as soon as he comes back and the smell of lasagna and garlic bread hits me. He turns a lamp on in the corner so there’s enough light for us to eat with, but not so bright that I can’t still see the stars and moon above us.

Setting out the food, he hands me my plate and then lets out a deep sigh before holding out the plastic fork it came with.

I grab it and smile. “Don’t be such a snob.”

He raises a dark brow at me and grabs his own plastic fork. I reach over and put a large piece of garlic bread on his plate.

“That’s the best part.” Too excited to eat, I sit still and watch him. “Try it.”

He laughs at my enthusiasm and grabs the piece of bread. Looking at it, he gives it a sniff, and when I roll my eyes at him, he laughs again and finally takes a big bite. He chews slowly, and the second I see his eyes widen ever so slightly, I know I’ve won. I sit back and stab a piece of lasagna onto my fork.

“I’ll be expecting that apology soon.”

He keeps chewing, trying like hell to not show how much he’s enjoying the bread, but when he takes a bite of lasagna, there’s no denying the groan of appreciation. I laugh and take another bite of my own food.

“I don’t understand,” he says in between a few more bites. “How the hell is this so good and I never knew about it?”

“You were too busy dropping hundreds of dollars at your fancy-pants restaurant.” I reach for my drink and take a big sip. “Let me guess, they have valet and a gorgeous hostess that meets you at the door like you’re the most special guest in the whole damn restaurant, maybe she even has an Italian name to make it all seem more authentic?”

“The food is good there,” he says, refusing to admit it might be subpar.

“But not as good as this,” I say, holding up my fork, the plastic tines stuffed with lasagna. “I dare you to deny it with a straight face.”

He tries, I’ll give him that. His sexy mouth tries like hell to not lift, but when I don’t back down from the stare-off, he finally relents with a big smile and a soft laugh.

“Yeah, it’s pretty damn good and better than Mangia Bene.” He points a finger at me and adds, “But I won’t say it’s better than Lucia’s cooking.”

“I would never ask you to,” I tell him, secretly loving his loyalty to the woman who’s been cooking for him since he was a kid. “And I’m not sure it’s better than hers anyway, but it’s a close second.”

He takes another big bite and closes his eyes in appreciation.

“A hidden gem.”

He opens his eyes just enough to give me a quick wink before he goes back to savoring the meal he was convinced wouldn’t satisfy his Italian tastebuds. We eat in a comfortable silence, and I can’t take my eyes off him. There’s something about seeing him so casual that makes my heart fill with affection for him. This man consumes me when he’s near. He takes over all my senses, pushing everything else aside until I’m left with only him.

Sensing me staring at him, he smiles and turns his brown eyes to mine. “You’re gloating, principessa.”

I laugh and shake my head. “I am not. I knew I was right all along, so there’s really no reason to gloat.”

“So modest,” he teases before finishing off the last of his garlic bread.

I use my stuffed fork to point at him. “I like you like this. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the Armani suits, and you look sexy as hell in them, but I like this too.”

He gives me one of his full smiles. “Sexy as hell, huh?”

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