Page 53 of My Dark Ever After
I nodded a little woodenly as Martina turned away to accept a platter ofpapa al pomodoro. She ignored me completely as she filled her plate, and I mutely did the same, layering the ceramic with fragrant Tuscan delicacies that made my mouth water even as my stomach was tied in knots.
“Stai bene, cerbiatta mia?” Raffa asked, sliding a palm over my thigh under the table.
I nodded, summoning a thin facsimile of a smile to my face. “Yes, tired. But happy to be a part of this.”
Raffa’s answering grin was small but genuine, a closed-mouth curling of that firm pink mouth. Without thinking, I reached out to press my thumb to his lips.
When he arched his brow, I answered the unspoken question. “I like the shape of your smile.”
“Bene,” he responded against my finger. “Because this smile is only ever for you.”
My heart throbbed like a wound in my chest at his words. His eyes crinkled as the smile deepened before he bit the tip of my thumb and then leaned back to raise his wineglass.
Even when he turned to talk to Renzo again, he kept one hand on my thigh, eating his dinner with only the right.
After everyone had finished, a group stood from the table to set up a makeshift stage for their band. I watched in awe as five men set up and started to play using an interesting mix of guitar, bass, flute, drum, and violin. To my surprise and joy, Angela Romano stood up to take the microphone, launching into a smoky version of “O sole mio.”
“May I interest you in a dance?”
I blinked before looking over my shoulder at Leo, who stood with his hand extended and a slightly sheepish smile on his face. Raffa squeezed my thigh, drawing my attention, and inclined his head as if to encourage me to dance with his friend if I wanted to.
I didn’t, not really, but I figured it would be rude to refuse, so I slipped my hand into Leo’s and stood up.
He grinned as he led me to the section of the stone terrace where a few other people had started to dance, including Stacci and Emiliano. With sinuous grace, Leo pulled me into his arms and moved us into a simple box step.
He smelled good, like expensive cologne, and even among the candle flames and twinkling strands of lights poorly illuminating the space, his blond hair glittered like gold. I was sure most people thought Leo was handsome and charming, but I was still wary around him. Though I knew he was making an effort for Raffa’s sake, I still wondered if he didn’t like me very much. He had been kind to me during the grape picking earlier that day, trying to joke with me about Italian traditions and American slang, but the rapport was not as natural as it was between me and the rest of Raffa’s crew.
Maybe we had too much baggage to ever truly be friends for our own sake instead of Raffa’s.
It was strange that Raffa, dark and intense looking, with a permanent scowl and guarded personality, could have made me feel so much more comfortable even from the beginning.
“Raffa told me he calls you his fawn,” he said with a wan smile. “But that recently, he is trying to convince you to become a huntress.”
“Yes. He wants me to stay, and the only way that is possible is if I embrace the darkness in myself as well as him. In order to survive all this,” I said with an inelegant wave of my hand to encompass everything and everyone around us.
His small smile was twisted. “He’s right. I called the woman I love my little dove. But doves are too easily caught in cages and kept as pets. You want to be something strong enough to break free.”
I could imagine Leo calling his lover something so romantic. Despite our chilly beginnings, it was clear to see he was handsome and personable enough to have nearly any woman he wanted.
“I wanted to apologize again for the night in Impruneta,” he said quietly, real distress marring his brow. “I truly thought you would find something lovely on top of the bell tower, and instead you found only danger and death.”
I shivered at the memory of killing that man, the lack of resistance as my shove forced him back over the half wall into open air.
“You are very brave,” he continued solemnly. “Brave enough to stand with Raffa against whatever comes, I think. He deserves that.”
I swallowed thickly, because he was right about Raffa’s merit, but I was not so sure I was strong enough to take whatever chaos would come, even though I wanted to be. The face of the man on the bell tower haunted my dreams.
“Ludo told me your family is originally from Tuscany.”
I was surprised by the non sequitur but nodded. “My father’s family, though I don’t know exactly from where. My mother’s people were Albanian.”
“Is that what brought you to Italy? A desire to know where you come from?” His voice was innocent, but his body was stiff as we danced.
He was a big guy, leaner than Raffa but just as tall, and it hurt my neck to look up at him, so I settled for looking straight ahead instead. His shirt was unbuttoned to the top of his chest, and the corner of a tattoo scrawled in black ink peeked out beneath the blue fabric.
“Mostly,” I agreed.
He waited for me to go on, but I didn’t.
