Page 55 of His Game (His Obsession 1)

"What is it, amore?"

If I didn't know better, I would think he was truly concerned. "Nothing," I told him. I wasn't sure I could explain the feelings coursing through me, even if I wanted to.

He clasped my chin in his fingers and forcefully turned my face toward him, his eyes searching mine. Looking for…what? "Veda, tell me what's on your mind." Although the words were spoken quietly, I didn't miss the undertone of dominance. He wasn’t going to let this go.

I pulled my face from his grip to look down at my hands, twisted in my lap, as I tried to get my thoughts together.

"Dammit, what the hell is it?" he asked again.

"Won't they come after you again?" I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, then looked back out the window. I didn't want him to see the concern on my face, misplaced as it was. What did I care if they finished the job next time they came after him? If they could manage not to fuck things up again, I would be free.

Instead of the sensation of euphoria I expected to feel when I imagined him gone forever from my life, a wave of sorrow crashed over me, hitting me so hard I had to catch my breath before I drowned.

Luca took my hand, and when I looked over at him, I could swear I saw the same struggle within him. "That's what I'm counting on," he told me. "But don't worry, they won't get so close to me next time."

"I'm not worried," I lied.

He searched my face, and then one side of his mouth lifted in a knowing smirk. I pulled my hand from his and returned it to my lap, then turned back to the window.

We rode in silence the rest of the way, only the soft notes of a piano coming over the car's speakers to break the tension between us.

What seemed like forever but was probably only a few minutes later, Enzo rolled down the privacy glass. "We'll be there in two minutes, Luca."

Reaching inside his jacket, Luca pulled out his Glock and checked that it was ready to go before he slid it back into the holster. "Pull up as close to the front door of the restaurant as you can get," he told him. "I'll slide out Veda's side." To me he said, "When Enzo stops the car, get out, but stay behind the door until I'm with you. Understand?"

Oh, I understood all right. "If it's not safe for us, why are we here?"

He must've heard the thread of panic in my voice, for he brought his eyes back around to mine. "Nothing will happen to you."

Tonight. I heard the unspoken word, even though he didn't say it. He didn’t have to.

He reached out for my hand, but I pulled it away.

"Veda. I won't let anything happen to you, amore. Just do exactly as I say until we get inside, understand?"

I nodded and tried to calm my racing heart.

"I'm not expecting any trouble, but it never hurts to be prepared."

Again, I nodded. What else was I supposed to do?

We pulled up to a small cottage that looked like it had been lifted right out of the Irish countryside. White with green trim, I half expected to see fairies flitting about the gardens out front. Or a hobbit with furry feet to walk out the little wooden door. I went to reach for the door handle, but Luca stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Hang on, Veda."

Enzo had his phone to his ear. After a few seconds, he gave the go-ahead.

"I'll be right behind you," Luca told me.

I opened the door and slid out, wobbling a bit on my heels before stepping aside just enough to give Luca room to get out. I may have been there against my will, but I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t want to get shot. Enzo came around the back of the car, and after a quick look around, the three of us walked swiftly to the entrance.

Enzo opened the door, blocking us with his body, and we were greeted with raucous laughter as we walked into a small foyer that was littered with photos of previous guests and an old-fashioned sign-in book. Beyond the foyer, there were three small rooms that branched off the center of the cottage, and each room had just enough tables to fill the space, but still give the patrons a sense of privacy. Old-fashioned wallpaper covered the walls, white with little green flowers. White lace tablecloths covered each table, and there were real candles in the center. Not the fake kind with the electric bulbs made to look like them. The laughter I’d heard upon entering came from the very back. And from the portion of that room I could see, there were people packed inside, wall to wall.

"I'm going to park the car and I'll be right back," Enzo told Luca just as a lovely woman with long, straight, dark hair, pink lipstick that didn’t match her coloring, and a modest flowery dress came to greet us.

"Welcome! Welcome!" she said. Her voice was hushed and had a lilting Irish accent. Up close, I could see she was older than she’d first appeared. Probably in her late forties, at least. "How are you, Luca?"

"I'm fine, Marg. Thank you. How are you and the family?"

"Oh, we're well. Thank you so much for asking." She smiled at me and picked up a couple of menus, then led us to the back room.

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