Page 45 of The Deal

“My patience with you and your games ran out days ago.”

When he extends his elbow toward me again, I slap it away. “What was that for?” he asks, his chuckle only adding to my frustration.

“You know exactly why. You are being obtuse, and it’s making me stabby.”

This time, he throws back his head and barks out a laugh. “You definitely inherited that fiery Italian temper. Come,” he says, reaching for my hand and tugging me toward the gazebo’s exit.

“Where are we going?” I ask, confused.

“To continue our walk.”

I yank my hand from his and fold my arms tightly across my chest. “I’m not moving until you give me the answers I need.” My voice trembles with frustration. “Please,” I add, though it sounds more like a plea than a demand.

“Calm down,amore mio.”

“I am not ‘your love’, arsehole … so stop calling me that. I swear on everything that’s holy if you don’t tell me where my father is this instant, you better start sleeping with one eye open.”

He presses his lips together, trying to hide his smile, and a flash of white light bursts behind my eyes. For a split second, I honestly think I’m having a stroke.

“Relax, Chloe. I’m just waiting for a callback.”

“From who?”

“You ask too many questions. Are we going to continue our walk, or are we standing here all day?”

“Oh, so you’re allowed to ask questions, but I’m not?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you just askanotherquestion?”

“That was a question too!” I shriek, reaching out to slap his rock-hard abs with the back of my hand. “Ouch.” My wrist throbs, still tender from when I jumped over the wall, and I’m pretty sure that hurt me more than it did him.

I clutch my arm against my chest, and the smile drops from his face. “Are you okay?”

He steps toward me, his hand reaching out, but I quickly turn away, giving him my back.

“Bella,” he says, his voice low and soft, laced with genuine concern.

“Leave me alone,” I say, feeling tears burn the back of my eyes. This man is so infuriating.

I’m not expecting him to wrap his arms around me from behind and rest his chin on my shoulder, but that’s precisely what he does.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and his warm breath against my skin makes all the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I’m sick of my stupid body betraying me whenever I’m in this man’s presence; he’s the enemy. “I’m expecting a callback.” He looks down at his ridiculously expensive gold watch as he speaks. “Hopefully, you will have your answer in the next few minutes. Now, let me look at your wrist.”

I turn in his arms, and my eyes search his. Is he serious or just playing with me? “You promise.”

“Cross my heart,tesoruccio.”

“Do you even have one of those?” I ask, my eyes slightly narrowing as I ignore the fact that he just called me his‘little treasure’.

His full smile, in return, accelerates my heartbeat. And if I wasn’t already confused enough, he leans in and kisses my forehead. This man is such a conundrum, and my emotions are all over the place.

This time, when he reaches for my hand—the non-injured one—I don’t protest.

We keep walking in silence, our steps falling in that familiar rhythm.

Then, without warning, he bends down, plucking something from the ground. I give him a puzzled look when he holds it up before me.

“For you,” he says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

---