She had her hands in her lap, her fingers interlaced.
But there was tension in her, and though I understood, I didn’t like it, especially not after what we had shared.
Told myself I was being an asshole.
The girl was terrified, worried about whether she would live.
I needed to cut her some slack.
“It’s fine if you know. We’re past all that now.”
She said nothing, just kept her eyes glued to the window.
I should have kept mine glued to the road, but I kept glancing at her, finding it almost impossible to look away.
I couldn’t put my finger on why.
She was a pretty girl, wholesome and kind-looking. Fragile at first glance, though I didn’t miss the strength that she carried.
Wondered what the source of it was.
I parked at my favorite hotel with a restaurant attached.
“No valet?” she said as I rounded the car to open the door.
“No,” I responded.
She smiled, the quick little expression lighting her entire face and making my heart squeeze.
I grabbed her wrist and started walking.
I didn’t need to touch her.
After all, I knew this place well, knew that it was as safe as any because it was owned by the Rossi family, one of Don Carlo’s closest allies.
Still, I wanted to touch her, and didn’t have the willpower, or the desire, to try to deny myself.
It shocked me that she didn’t pull away, and as I looked at her, I wondered why.
Was she comfortable with my touch, or was she afraid of upsetting me?
Probably both.
I punched the button to call the elevator, and noticed that she stiffened slightly.
It was interesting, yet also unnerving how in tune she seemed with my emotions.
Like she was gauging my reaction at every single second, trying to be prepared for whatever would come.
I wondered why she behaved like that, then wondered if I wanted to know.
We walked through the restaurant, and after we were seated at my table, I watched her as she looked around.
“Nice,” she said.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
She shrugged quickly. “Do you like it?”