Page 41 of Reckless Vow

“Why do you know so much about guns?”

It feels like a challenge, like he’s daring me to share a part of me. Am I ready to tell him about my secret career? It’s the easiest of my secrets to unravel.

I want to tell the boy I used to love, but I don’t want to share with the man who calls me sis. The rest of my family doesn’t know.

Avoiding the question, I take the Glock from him. It’s heavier than I expected.

“Are you sure you trust me with a gun around you?” I know it isn’t loaded, but the weight of it in my hands gives me a weird sense of power.

He licks his lip, and now I’m thinking about kissing him.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, he smirks. “When it comes to trusting you, Brook, the jury is still out.”

He traces the outline of my jaw with his hand and I lean into his palm, starved for his touch. My whole body comes alive under his caress.

Goosebumps spread across my skin. Heat burns in my lower belly. I’m having a really hard time breathing.

He looks at me with hunger and something akin to adoration, but I’m sure that’s just wishful thinking.

Regardless, my body thrums with the need to be held. To be loved. To be owned by this man.

With a primal need for the second chance we never got. Perhaps it’s just a need for closure, but it’s visceral and relentless.

A whimper or a sigh escapes me, my lungs crying for oxygen.

The room is too hot. The gun is too heavy. The man is too dangerous.

But he’s going to kiss me, and I part my lips to invite him.

Instead, Baldo lowers his lips to my ear. He puts his hand on my hip, like he senses I might need the support because my knees are giving in.

“It’s not an empty gun you’d hurt me with.”

I shudder. At his words. At the unrequited desire. At the loss of… I don’t even know what. I jerk away from him.

He is right. About our mutual lack of trust, and about our ability to hurt each other.

His words already hurt worse than a gunshot.

Chapter13

Baldo

“Okay, Chloe, calm down. I’ll take care of the mayor in Rome.”

Fuck, living in the States is turning into a nightmare.

And not only because my business dealings are on occasions challenging over teleconference.

The biggest part of my current nightmare is living under one roof with Brook, jerking off to fantasies of her every night.

I fucking called hersis, just to put distance between us. It worked somewhat, but we can’t sustain this for a year.

And the hurt in her eyes when I spat the word has been haunting me since then.

“You say that, but how are we going to have a discreet conversation about our liquor license over the phone? You know there is no way we can get it renewed the official way. Not in Rome.”

“I said I’ll take care of it,” I snap.

---