Page 44 of Forbidden Until Midnight

‘No, it’s not like that,’ Santo insisted, his voice low.

Eleanor hung back at the threshold of the sitting room, reluctant to intrude on something that was clearly deeply personal. Santo was on the phone, wearing nothing but his black trousers. For a moment, she allowed herself to indulge in the planes of his muscled torso, remembering the feel of his skin against her palm, her lips...and deep within her. She cast her gaze back to where he’d placed her on the countertop, a fierce blush rising to her cheeks, purely from the memory of the pleasure he’d brought her there.

‘No, absolutely not,’ Santo whisper-hissed again, drawing her attention back to him, his hand slashing through the air like punctuation.

Frowning, curiosity drew her a step forward into the room when his next words stopped her dead.

‘She might be your daughter, Pietro, but you sentmeto look after her,’ he bit out angrily.

Pietro.

The name sounded like a bell in her mind, casting ripples across her thoughts, her memories... Pietro. The name of the man who was her father, her mother had confided. The father who she had put from her mind because he hadn’t come for her. Because he hadn’t wanted her.

‘I don’t care what you think, I’m going to—’

Eleanor’s head snapped up as Santo’s words cut off, to see him staring at her reflection in the window.

‘I have to go,’ Santo said, ending the call without taking his eyes off her.

Neither moved for what felt like an eternity. And then they both moved at once, Eleanor away from him and Santo towards her.

Nausea hit her so hard, so fast, she was nearly sick.

Pietro.

He knew her father.

He had lied to her.

He hadbeenlying to her the whole time.

‘You sent me to look after her.’

‘What’s going on?’ she asked with numb lips, as a stranger stared back at her from the other side of the room.

‘Eleanor, I...’ Santo’s mouth shut, opened and shut again.

Start, stop, start, stop—it had always been like that for them. So much so it made her dizzy.

‘You know my...my father,’ she said, her voice breaking on the last word.

‘Yes.’

Her head swam and the sands shifted beneath her feet all over again.

‘Youknewhe was my father the whole time,’ she stated, trying to pull all the threads together.

‘Yes,’ Santo confirmed, the words like bullets getting closer and closer to their mark.

Her hand pressed against her lips to stop the shock from overwhelming her. From escaping. From betraying her. He knew her father, he’d known. He’d known when...

‘I asked you not to lie to me,’ she said, remembering that night, remembering the desperate need she’d felt then, and now, never to experience this kind of truly life-altering devastation. Her breath shuddered in her lungs.

‘Eleanor, it’s not what you think,’ Santo said, a plea in his gaze as he approached her.

She threw up a hand to ward him off.

The buzzing that she heard in her ears grew louder and louder. ‘You promised. Youpromisedyou wouldn’t lie to me.’

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