Page 38 of Under His Protection

He’s not even here, idiot. He’d left an hour ago, stopping in the gym when I was halfway through my workout to tell me he was going to a meeting. At that time, I was surprised but touched that he told me anything.

“You don’t have to report in to me,” I’d teased, sweaty and gross on the treadmill.

He’d simply shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Maybe I want to.”

More confusing words.

“He’s not waiting for you,” I told the woman at the door. “And he’s not interested in your gift.” I looked at the bakery bag in her hand.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are,” she snarled, “but he’s not with you or anyone but?—”

I slammed the door in her face. Since a scream of pain didn’t follow, I assumed she reared back out of the way before it literally hit her in the nose. Curses and shouts came muffled through the door, but I was done. If she kept up that noise, a guard would escort her off the property.

I was too damn hungry to bother with it. Turning to head to the kitchen again, I slowed my steps at Eva’s mocking slow clap.

“Nice to see you’re not a pushover.”

I looked at her, not betraying my emotions. If I didn’t engage with her cattiness, I was sure she’d go away sooner or later.

“You stood your ground.” She followed me, not giving up on my speedy walk to the kitchen.

“Vanessa’s never pleasant to put up with, but slamming the door in her face…” She laughed darkly as I reached the kitchen and opened the fridge. “That was brilliant.”

“Vanessa, huh?” I asked as I peered in the fridge. Now I had a name. The next time I ran into Dante in the house, I’d make sure to ask him what the hell was up with her stopping by like that.

“Yeah. Vanessa Giovanni. You sure showed her.”

I shrugged. Dante gave me a role, to act as his girlfriend, and I damn well would follow through with it. “Want a salad?” I glanced back at Eva now. She stood with her hip propped against the edge of the island’s counter.

She exhaled, like she was bracing for saying something more. “Nina, why are you dating Dante?”

I mentally groaned, not wanting the third degree again. She bombarded me with all kinds of questions about our relationship, but fortunately, Dante overheard her and set her straight with vague answers.

“Because I can’t blame Vanessa for laughing at the idea of your dating my uncle.”

I huffed as I set veggies on the counter. “Gee. Thanks.”

“Nothing personal,” she said.

“Oh, I’m sure it is.”

“You’re just not his type. That’s a fact.” As I looked up at her, she raised her brows, haughty like a know-it-all. “You are not Dante’s type—at all. Yet you’re here.”

I did jazz hands, just to piss her off. “Here I am,” I sing-songed. “That’s a no on a salad, then?”

“No. No salad. Nina, why is my uncle wasting his time dating you?” She stared at me directly, giving me no option to hedge the question.

I bit my lip, tempted to just tell her. That I wasn’t dating him, although I wished I were, so badly. That I yearned for his kisses and missed his seductive, filthy looks.

While I blurted out the truth to Romeo and admitted that Dante and I were pretending to be together, I was nervous to share that same uncensored truth with her. I didn’t know if I could trust Eva, and I wasn’t confident or brave enough to take a leap of faith and try to. I still wondered if I was wrong to confide in Romeo the little that I had, but so far, nothing had come back to me from that. Dante hadn’t come to me, demanding to know why I told his son the truth.

Besides, what the hell can I say? Oh, I’m here because he wants me to look like his girlfriend. It’s supposed to be an act, but I really wish it were the truth.

My desire for Dante was only deepening, and I realized my interest in him was like a ticking bomb. The longer I faked it, that I was merely here to pretend, the more my affections solidified and strengthened.

Sooner or later, something would snap. Something would have to give.

But I wasn’t giving Eva a morsel of truth now.

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