Page 96 of The Devil Can Be Kind

He let out a low whistle, “Intense.” I could feel his weight compress the bed as he took a seat beside me. “What happened to the other?”

“The other what?” I asked not understanding.

“The other man you were seeing.”

I choked on my own breath. Fear suddenly constricting my throat and anxiety crippling my tongue.

“Surely it can’t be that bad.” He prompted after a moment, misinterpreting my silence for something else.

“Last I checked Jason was very much alive and kicking…though I’m still contemplating rectifying that.” He added the last bit with an amused chuckle, but I was too lost in thought to respond.

I sat upright and turned my back to him. “I wasn’t seeing Jason or anyone else,” I muttered.

“You told me there were two men you’d been with.”

I shook my head not knowing where to start…or if Icouldeven start.

“Ada.” Marco reached across the bed and touched my hand gently. “What’s going on?”

“I-I don’t… I don’t want to talk abouthim.” I got up and walked to the window, anxiety making my feet feel unstable and my head pounding with each step.

I felt his warm presence against my back after a moment, an arm wrapping protectively around my waist.

“What are you not telling me?” He asked, his cheek resting gently against the side of my head.

“Can we just drop it? My head hurts.”

He agreed to drop it for now, but something in my mind told me it wouldn’t be long before he started digging for information again.

Marco was not a man to let things go.

He’ll find out eventually.

God knows what would happen when he did.

I was invitedto attend dinner on the terrace with Marco that evening. It was our first formal meal together since arriving inSicily, and for some reason, it sent a wave of shyness through me.

After everything that had transpired in the last seventy-two hours…I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect from the evening.

When I exited the patio, I was convinced my concussion was worse than the doctor had diagnosed, and I was seeing double. The table Marco was seated at was overflowing with an assortment of bruschetta, arancini, lasagna, risotto and everything in between, his usual wait staff notably absent.

“What the hell?” I asked, not understanding the scene before me as I took a seat.

Even on a nearby side table, I could see cannelloni, gelato, and what looked to be tiramisu.

There was enough food to feed maybe fifteen or twenty people.

“I didn’t know what you’d like.” His hand grazed his mouth to hide a smile.

“And you thought this…” I gestured to the freshly boiled lobster before me, complete with a mini chef hat, apron, and small bunch of rosemary wedged in its claw. “Was what I’d like?”

Our eyes met over the table, and I couldn’t help but break into a laugh at the intricate absurdity of the lobster.

Marco released a deep chuckle and the charming boyish smile I’d come to love resurfaced.

“Just for the record, I’m a risotto kind of girl. And you?” I asked, realizing that I didn’t even know what his favorite food was.

“If we’re talking Italian, then I’d have to say ossobuco. Back home though, it’s steak.”

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