Page 37 of Promise Maker

He utters a low rumble. “I only want to keep yousafe, Solari. That is my reason.”

“Sure.” I roll my eyes.

He exhales long and hard before asking, “Have youeaten?”

“No. I was on my way to the kitchen when yourfather sent for me.”

Straightening on his feet, he reaches for me andsays, “Come. I’ll take you to a café.”

I hold the envelope in my other hand and slip myfingers into his grasp. He helps me from the ground but doesn’t let go.

I don’t want him to.

“I thought you said I shouldn’t step foot off theproperty,” I remind playfully.

He shakes his head. “It’s all right if we’retogether. Besides, you said you feel safe with me.”

And I genuinely do. “Fine. Lead the way.”

“I wish I had my camera,” I murmur while admiringthe magnificent scenery.

No wonder Domenico had insisted on a table on thedeck when we arrived at the seaside café.

There are no words to convey the splendor of thisplace.

Diverting my sight to the Italian god sittingacross from me, a warm sensation blooms in my stomach when I realize he’sstaring.

“What?” I act unbothered and reach for mymacchiato.

Domenico slowly turns his head from side to side.“It is good to see you smile.”

I set the empty mug next to my mostly eatenbreakfast. “Well, considering the situation, it’s hard to smile. But this placesure is beautiful.”

“Nonc'èbellezzacome latua.” There’ssuch a sexy dip in his voice whenever he uses Italian with me.

I fall quiet, trying to translate hisstatement—something about my beauty.

Domenico constricts his eyes, and I harrumph andplay it off. “Come what? Ugh. You’re just petty. You know I don’t understand.What did you say?”

He slowly braces back in the chair, shaking hishead. “Liar. You learned, didn’t you?”

Never good at lying, I shift and rub the nape ofmy neck. “What…makes you say that?”

“Pfft.” He smirks. “I’ve been trained to read people,Solari. Your delayed response is a giveaway, and your lips were moving as iftrying to figure out the words. You know Italian.”

“All right. Fine.” I eyeball him. “Only a little. Ididn’t put in a lot of time because of college and business with Dad. I stoppedlearning altogether when you didn’t show up two years ago. Or rather…” I peerdown at the table. “When you made that promise behind my back.”

Looking up again, I notice the blatant regretconsuming his gaze.

“I’ll get you a tutor,” he says.

Ifoldmy arms, chinhigh, as I tell him, “Needless. I’m not staying here.”

“You—” He twists his mouth and squeezes hisforehead, ostensibly frustrated.

I like riling up Domenico. The intensity he exudesmakes my body tingle. It’s a sweet escape from the grief that pours in atnight.

He eases forward, grating, “The girl in the gardenseemed willing to follow me without protest.”

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