Page 90 of Beautiful Desire

Leaving her in Italy was out of my control and something I’ve regretted every day. But what I never understood was why she left me after our first time together.

Without thinking, I blurt out, “Why did you leave me in Florida?”

Her eyes pop open, almost bulging from her head, as she tries to take a step back. I move my hand that was stroking her face to cup her cheek, holding her in place.

“Enough with the running. Why did you leave? I know you feel this too.”

Anger and a mixture of hurt flare in her eyes.

“That’s rich coming from you. Why did you leave me in Italy? After all those sweet nothings you whispered in my ear all night. Was it just so you could get me in bed again? You were horny and didn’t want to hook up with some strange woman, so you decided to go after me because I’measy?” she all but spits at me as she breaks out of my hold and backs away from me.

Stepping up to her so our chests are flush with one another, I look her directly in the eyes when I speak. “My leaving you was out of my hands. I’ve regretted walking away from you every night, but I had to. I couldn’t risk putting you in danger more than I already have. And for your information, everything I said to you that night wastrue. I meant every word, and if it were up to me, we would be spending the next week in bed making up for some of our lost time together. Tell me you feel the same way too.”

I stare, pleading with her to stop this nonsense and for us to be able to act on whateverthisis.

She goes to open her mouth, but closes it. “What do you mean leaving me was out of your control? Someone didn’t want you to be with me?”

Cupping both sides of her face, I speak softly. “No, fiore. It wasn’t—”

She cuts me off by holding a hand up in the air. “If you give me the old ‘it wasn’t you, it was me’ speech, I might punch you, or at the very least, kick you in the balls.”

A broad smile breaks out over my face, and I can’t help it. I lean down and give her a hard, chaste kiss before pulling back to a stunned Elle.

“No, fiore, that’s not what I was going to say at all. What I was trying to say is that it wasn’t you I couldn’t be with. I just couldn’t be there anymore,period.”

Her face scrunches up as a confused look takes over.

How do I say this without saying too much and putting her in danger?

Taking a deep breath, I decide it’s best to just tell her the truth. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“What do you mean?” Her eyes go wide as she swallows hard. “Are you-are you a serial killer? You know, a hired assassin? Is that what you really do for Fabi?” she whispers, as if she’s afraid someone might hear her.

Tilting my head back, I start to laugh. A big ol’ belly laugh. I can’t help it. It may be from the lack of sleep, but that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time. When I bring my head back in view with hers, a less than impressed look is on her face.

“Killing people is funny to you?” she asks as she steps out of my hold and crosses her arms across her chest.

That makes the smile fall from my face. I donotthink killing people is funny.

“No, I do not think killing people is funny. I was laughing because you thought I was an assassin. Do I really look like someone who goes around killing people for a living?”

I glance down at myself and see my dark charcoal suit is disheveled and wrinkled. I’m pretty sure my hair is sticking up every which way, and I’m displaying crazy eyes from not sleeping days at a time. Looking back at her, I can see she’s giving me a once-over and assessing me as well.

“Okay, maybe I do look a little crazy today, but that’s due to my recent bout of insomnia. But no, I am not a serial killer or trained assassin. Fabi and I are partners in my restaurant, 80/20 – me eighty percent, him twenty. He’s a silent investor and only uses Lombardi’s to make things seem legit.”

I don’t know if Fabi would be upset with me telling her that or not, but right now, I don’t care. I’m laying it all out on the table. Well, most of it, anyway.

Realization flashes across her face.

“You mean…” Leaning in close to speak directly in my ear, she says, “Money laundering?”

When she pulls back, I try to conceal my chuckle at how cute and naïve she looks right now. What the fuck did she think Fabi did as the don of the Italian mafia?

Nodding my head, I say, “Yes, that’s exactly what that means.”

“But…why?”

Now I’m the one confused. “What do you mean, why?”

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