Page 53 of His to Keep
“Lucia Lazzaro runs a restaurant. She has a reputation for cooking the finestBistecca alla Fiorentinain the city.”
As I climb into the back of the car, I laugh. “I applaud his pettiness.”
“He and Lorenzo spend a lot of time trying to out-asshole each other.”
“Idiots,” I remark as Gio slides into the car next to me.
Fastening my seatbelt, I find my fingers are trembling. The encounter with Adan Barevsky was cordial enough, but I’m relieved it’s over.
“That was scary for a minute there,” I say.
“Yes, it could have gone badly, but you handled it well, kitten.”
Pride swells in my chest. Gio’s praise does things to me I don’t want to acknowledge. Developing a praise kink could have consequences. I might end up spending my entire life trying to please him just to get a ‘good girl’ out of him.
“If Barevsky’s as sincere as I think he is about dealing with his father, it gets one major problem off our hands.”
“Yes, it does.” Gio adjusts his position to put an arm around me as I rest my head on his shoulder. “But we still have Jason Henry to deal with.”
“What if we just stay here forever, or go to New York? Jason doesn’t have the same reach as Barevsky.”
I peer up at Gio and he shakes his head. “If he wants to come for you, distance won’t stop him. Besides, you need to see an end to him if you want to move on.”
I know he’s right. As much as I wish I could just consign Jason Henry to the darkest recesses of my mind, he won’t stay buried. Until he’s gone I’ll always look over my shoulder for him. He’ll be more determined than ever to get to me now that Alexander has removed Cara Drummond from his reach.
“In that case, I should speak to my brother.”
Gio’s eyes reflect his concern. “Are you sure, kitten?”
“I can’t avoid him forever.”
“No, you can’t.” Gio kisses my forehead. “I’ll arrange something as soon as possible.”
“Thank you.”
It’s not a meeting I look forward to. So much has happened since I last saw Alexander. Closing my eyes, I try to convince myself it will be like we were never apart.
CHAPTER 18
Gio
Watching Eilidh trying on her twentieth different outfit, I wish I could take away some of her nervousness. She’s putting up a front, pretending that everything is fine, but the way she discards one perfectly suitable dress after another tells me she’s anxious. She’s tried on formal dresses and fun, casual clothes, searching for something to portray just the right image. The trouble is I don’t think she knows what persona she wants to project.
“He’s going to be here in thirty minutes,” Eilidh grumbles, “and I have nothing to wear.”
“You wiped out half the boutiques in Florence yesterday,” I tell her drily. “You have something to wear.”
“It’s so easy for you men. You just have to stick on a pair of black pants, a black shirt, and you’re ready to go.”
“Ah, but we have to worry about what weapons to carry. I mean, does this outfit call for a Glock or Sig Sauer?”
Eilidh laughs. “You’re a dickhead.” Her face falls. “But seriously, what am I supposed to wear?”
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. I wish I could make this less difficult for her. Alexander is a connection to a past she hasn’t really come to terms with yet and she’s afraid speaking to him will stir up unpleasant memories. More than that, I think she fears letting herself be vulnerable, especially in front of me. Though she knows I would never take advantage of her moments of weakness, she doesn’t want me to see her as someone who needs to be coddled. I suspect she can tell I still struggle with the aftermath of being shot and she doesn’t want to add to the burden I carry. The thing is she could never impose on me. I intend to make supporting her my life’s work.
“Try the blue one with the flowers again,” I suggest.
She rummages through the pile of discarded clothing on the bed and finds the dress. She holds it up and from the way her nose wrinkles I can tell she’s going to reject it.
