Page 157 of Reckless Vow

“You mentioned you loved Mexican.” He shrugs.

“And this place came highly recommended on TripAdvisor?” I arch my eyebrow, the flavor of the rice and beans exploding on my tongue.

“Actually, Massi is a silent partner here. He told me about it.”

“What? I thought Massi was fully dedicated to Casa Cassi.”

“He is, but apparently he invests in other places that show promise.”

“Well, if all the places are this good, no wonder he is filthy rich.”

Baldo throws his head back and laughs. “I’m richer than him.”

Now I laugh. “Of course you are, darling,” I mock.

He looks at me unimpressed, and that’s when I notice it. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“I hate Mexican.”

“Why did we come here, then?”

“I told you, only the best for my wife.”

“So you’ll go hungry?”

His eyes darken, and he runs his hand up my thigh under the table. “I’ll feast on you later.”

God, can we go home right now? Goosebumps tingle my skin just from his promise.

“But you needed me well fed first?” I grin, the innuendo light but charged.

“Exactly.”

“Are you trying to butter me up?”

His features still, and he looks away for a moment. Shit. So this isn’t just a romantic gesture. He’s trying to appease me as foreplay, but not in the sexual way.

“Talk to me, Baldo.”

He sighs and removes his hand from my thigh. I mourn the loss immediately. Again, not only in the physical way.

“Ask me where I was before the fire in Lisbon.”

I blink. What? “Why?”

“Because I don’t want any secrets between us.”

I sigh. “Then just tell me.” I drop the burrito, because he said before I wouldn’t like the answer.

He puffs out a long sigh through his lips.

“I went to see Art Mathison.”

Not what I expected. I frown. “His company is on all those surveillance reports.”

“Yes.”

I snort, but it’s more to cover my discomfort. Why can’t he just say the thing? “Who are you trailing now? I’m right here. Do I need to be jealous?”

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