Page 17 of Forbidden Until Midnight

He looked at Eleanor, staring up at him with those wide eyes. He could see her hovering on the edge of innocence. Yes, she’d had her fingers burnt by Tony, by Edward Carson’s response to her broken engagement, but it was just the tip of an iceberg he wasn’t sure that she would ever be ready to face.

‘I’m sorry. This is a heavy conversation to have when everyone around us is celebrating,’ Eleanor said, recognising that Santo was close to shutting down, when all she wanted to do was open him up. She’d thought so much of him over the last twelve months, but knew almost nothing about him—other than what was mentioned in the business pages. But perhaps there was a different way, alighterway?

‘Would you like to play a game?’ she asked, forcing a playfulness into her tone.

For a moment, she wondered whether he’d take her up on her offer.

‘That depends on the game,’ he said, something glinting in his eyes that pulled at her body.

‘Truth or dare,’ she replied.

He frowned, those dark brows closing down over the incredible aquamarine of his gaze.

‘Have you not played truth or dare before?’ she asked with a laugh.

‘I have heard of it, but never played it.’

Reading between the lines, his childhood sounded dark, hard and painful, and she suddenly wondered just how much Santo had been able to play as a young boy. She was about to retract the offer when he asked, ‘Who goes first?’

‘I will,’ she said before he could change his mind. ‘Truth or dare?’

He huffed out a cautious laugh. ‘Do I not get to know the question first?’

She shook her head slowly, a smile curving her lips.

He nodded once, and seemed to lean closer in, their bodies speaking their own language to each other.

‘Truth,’ he said then.

‘Okay, but it’s a hard one, so think carefully,’ she warned. ‘What is...your favourite food?’

Santo barked out a laugh and it warmed her then. She’d seen him cynical, bitter, hard, disdainful, but this was something she only occasionally saw when it was just the two of them alone and that made her feel...thrilled. Excited. As if perhaps there could be something here between them. Something more than just a passing fancy.

‘It is a cliché but tiramisu. I could eat a whole bowlful every day,’ he admitted, leaning against the wall beside the large, beautiful round window. ‘Your turn,’ he announced.

‘Truth,’ she said, answering his unspoken question.

His inhale and narrowed eyes were playful, but still she found herself unaccountably nervous, until his gaze raked her body from top to toe, making her feel something else entirely.

‘Where are you ticklish?’ he demanded.

She blinked. ‘What makes you think I’m ticklish?’

‘You’re avoiding the answer,’ he teased.

Eleanor huffed, trying hard not to let a smile escape onto her lips. ‘My feet,’ she replied mock resentfully.

He nodded to himself as if he’d thought as much.

‘Truth or dare,’ she challenged.

‘Truth.’

‘Who was your first kiss?’ she asked, pressing her lips together the moment the words were out of her mouth, the fizzle and crackle no longer outside in the night sky but hurtling through her veins beneath her skin.

A gleam of surprise flashed in his gaze just as another round of fireworks exploded over the Brandenburg Gate.

‘Sofia Barone,’ he replied with a slow smile as if remembering. ‘We were fourteen years old, and were supposed to be playing hide and seek with her brother. He didn’t find us,’ he replied, clearly proud of his achievement.

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