“Can I ask you something?”
He gestures with a tilt of his glass.“By all means.”
“Why the nickname?Besides the obvious, of course.”
Something flickers across his face, quick, dark and gone in a blink.I can’t tell if I imagined it.
Then he shrugs, casual again.“Because it suits you.”
I roll my eyes so hard they nearly take flight.He chuckles, low and warm.
“Well then,” I say, emboldened by the way his gaze lingers on me, “I’ve got an obvious nickname for you, too.”
He raises an eyebrow, that annoying little dimple making a surprise appearance and absolutely wrecking my concentration.
Gah!Focus, woman.
“I was going to go with Dark and Dangerous,” I admit, “but we can keep it simple.Just Dark.”
“Dark?”he repeats, pulling a mock-offended face.“Why?”
I grin, sipping my wine.“Because it suits you,” I sass back.
He leans back, eyes gleaming.“I don’t know why you’d say that.”We laugh again, and this time it’s easy, warm, like we’ve known each other longer than we have.Maybe this night won’t be so bad after all.
Our conversation flows unstilted and I am finally relaxed.My resolve to put a stop to whatever is going on between us, this attraction, is still in my mind, but I put it in the backseat for now.Maybe he will turn out to be a good friend?
Our plates are served and we eat in comfortable silence.The salmon is exquisite, tender, melting in my mouth with each bite.Damiano’s eyes never leave me, though, quiet, intense, as if he’s studying me.The buzz from the wine makes me lightheaded, and I am acting unexpectedly audacious.I stare right back at him, letting myself enjoy the view.It is almost dizzying how at ease I feel, like we’ve created our own little bubble where the world outside doesn’t matter.I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time.Soon, the plates are cleared, and the waiter asks for our dessert choice.
I glance at the menu, but the words blur into nothing.Damiano must sense my hesitation because, without missing a beat, he suggests the tiramisu.
“It’s to die for, I promise.”
I snicker, teasing, “I’d rather live, but if you say it’s that good, I’ll give it a try.”
That gets me a playfully stern look, and I can’t help but giggle at how it clashes with his usual predatory charm.
But then his face hardens.His jaw clenches and the moment shifts.The lightness I’ve been feeling slips away, replaced by a tension I can’t quite place.
Shit, am I making a fool of myself?
I cringe, suddenly self-conscious.“Sorry,” I mutter, regretting my slip.
He covers my hand with his, warm and steady.“Don’t ever apologize for being you.In fact, I’m enjoying myself more than I have in years, and that’s all thanks to you.”
Surprised, I look up, meeting his gaze.There is nothing but earnestness in his eyes.He squeezes my hand and, for a moment, the rest of the world fades away, leaving only the two of us, locked in a moment of unexpected intimacy.
Then he drops the bomb.“I have an offer for you.”
I stare blankly at him.
“Be my wife.”
I almost laugh because my hearing has failed me.Or maybe the wine has gone straight to my ears.Or he’s joking.That has to be it.I jerk my hand back.
His eyes are dead serious.Not even a twitch of a smile.
“Your what?”I hear myself shriek, voice pitching up far louder than I intended.
