Page 33 of The Cruelty of Thorns

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

I waved his concern aside, certain that he was second guessing this date now. Why would he want to be with someone so pathetic? To cover up my discomfort, I picked up the menu and started leafing through it. “What’s good here?”

He shifted gears and the smile returned. “Everything. The lasagna is terrific, as is the veal parmigiano, but their chicken marsala is my personal favorite.”

“Sounds good.” I closed the menu as Mama Capellini reappeared with our waters, a loaf of hot fresh bread, and a bowl of olive oil with spices floating on top.

“What have you decided on?” she asked as she set the items on the table.

Ron glanced at me and I nodded. “We’ll have the chicken marsala.”

“Ah, your favorite. Good choice. Matteo found the plumpest mushrooms at the market today.” She collected the menus and headed off to greet another couple who had just entered.

“So tell me about yourself,” Ron said. “Where did you grow up?”

I opened my mouth to reply when I felt that familiar tingling sensation across my skin. My eyes skirted up to the window, searching for the source of my discomfort. He was standing under a streetlight across the street in his trademark dark suit, his hair pulled back to reveal those razor-sharp cheeks. Even from this distance I could tell his eyes were riveted on me. I felt my palms start to sweat and my mouth go dry. How did he always seem to know where I was?

“Myra? Myra, are you all right?”

I became aware of Ron speaking to me and dragged my attention back across the table, but I could still feel him out there. Watching me.

“I’m fine. Sorry. I just need…is there a restroom?” I had to get away from that window for a minute.

“Sure, in the back.” He pointed to a doorway at the back of the restaurant.

“I’ll be right back. Sorry.”

I jumped up before he could ask any more questions, scurrying through the room and opening the door into a dim paneled hallway that at first just seemed to lead outside. I could hear the commotion from the kitchen through one of the doors, and spotted two others on the opposite wall, marked for Ladies and Men. I ducked inside the small ladies’ room and stopped at the sink, raising my eyes to my reflection. What was wrong with me? Why did merely seeing him cause such a reaction in me?

I splashed some cold water on my face and grabbed a couple of paper towels to dry it. Okay, get a grip on yourself. Ron doesn’t deserve your neurosis.

I reached for the door handle and had it practically ripped out of my hand as someone grabbed me and pushed me against the wall. I started to scream and a hand covered my mouth.

“Shh. It’s me.”

My eyes widened. Julianus? “How did you–?”

He pulled his hand away from my mouth and rested it on my shoulder, his thumb tracing lazy circles on my upper arm, causing my pulse to quicken. My breath stuttered as his eyes captured mine, and I became aware of his body pressed against mine, our closeness almost intimate. How was he here? I had just seen him out in the street.

A dozen questions flitted through my mind, but my heart was pounding so loudly in my ears I couldn’t think to ask any of them. He stared at me for a moment, looking as confused as I felt, then before I could react, he bent closer and crashed his lips against mine, consuming my mouth in a heated kiss.

My head was spinning. Part of me wanted to push him away, to insist that this wasn’t right, and I even brought my hand up between us to try, but another part wanted to surrender to the toe-curling war being waged on my control. My breath grew ragged as his tongue slipped inside my mouth, devouring me while his lips brutalized mine.

What was happening here, my mind screamed while my traitorous body melted against him, wanting to lose myself in him. He kissed me like a starving man after a long fast, like he couldn’t get enough of me. I had never been kissed like that before, with such raw hunger, and I felt a need arise in me to merge with him. To be completely possessed by him. I was drowning in a high voltage sea and I had never felt more alive.

The kiss that seemed to go on forever was over far too soon. He pulled away, leaving me feeling bereft and breathless.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I don’t–”

I looked at him, waiting, unable to function while he was this close, his scent filling my head, his eyes holding mine, his lips…god his lips. I could still feel their touch imprinted on mine.

“I don’t like seeing you with him.”

With him? It took me a minute to connect the dots. Oh, Ron.

The thought of his name brought me back to reality like a slap in the face. I heard myself speak, didn’t recognize my own voice. “It’s not up to you.”

His expression grew cloudy, his gray eyes flashing heat, his full lips–the lips that had just mauled my mouth–curled up in a smirk. “We’ll see about that.”

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