“And the smaller one on the entrance table.”
The second guard moves toward the hall table.
I catch myself noticing that he turns the vase before setting it down so the fullest side faces the door. It surprises me a bit that a man with such a stern expression on his face would think of it.
The front gate notification chimes softly from the wall panel before I can say anything else.
A moment later, Adrian steps in from the hall, all business again, whatever heat was upstairs locked away behind the bodyguard’s mask.
His eyes move over me once.
Only once.
But it is enough.
Then he looks at the panel, then at me.
“The first guests have arrived.”
Chapter Twenty Nine
Adrian
I am seated at Caterina’s dining room table.
It should not feel as strange as it does.
It is a dinner. A family dinner. I have been in private homes during dinners before. I have stood near walls while people ate, laughed, argued, drank too much wine, pretended not to hate each other, pretended to like each other, pretended the security presence was not there.
That is familiar.
This is not.
Because Caterina insisted I sit.
Not stand near the wall. Not take a plate in the kitchen. Not hover in the doorway where I can see entrances, exits, windows, and every person in the room without becoming part of the room.
Sit.
At the table.
Which is a problem for reasons no one else in this room fully understands.
Sure, we have been sleeping together for a month.
That is not public information. As far as most of the people at this table know, I am her bodyguard.
Fine, not only that.
I am also Teresa’s cousin, so I am not a complete stranger to the family. That’s probably how Caterina justified it to herself when she looked at me five minutes before everyone sat down and said, in that calm voice that means she has already decided the outcome, “You’re eating with us.”
I told her no.
She said yes.
I looked at Teresa for help.
Teresa smiled into her wineglass like the traitor she is.
