“I did not say not to.”
“You made the face.”
Maverick’s gaze flicks to me, amused.
Traitorous heat climbs my neck.
“I see,” he says solemnly, taking the tin from Livy like she handed him diamonds. “Then I’m honored.”
Livy beams.
A woman appears beside him, older, elegant, with silver-threaded dark hair pulled neatly back. “SignorMoretti, dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes.”
“Grazie,Rosa.”
Rosa smiles at Livy. “I will make sure these are served with dessert.”
Livy’s mouth falls open. “Really?”
“Of course. A gift from a guest belongs at the table.”
Maverick steps closer, leaning down and pressing a soft, almost nonexistent kiss to the corner of my mouth. “You look beautiful, Amelia.”
I laugh not because it’s funny, but because I’m nervous.
“That’s generous.”
His expression stills. “It’s honest.”
I look past him into the glowing entrance hall. Marble floors. Curved staircase. Fresh flowers in an arrangement bigger than my kitchen table. Men posted quietly near the walls. Staff moving with silent precision.
“This is insane,” I whisper.
Maverick studies me. “What is?”
I gesture helplessly. “This. All of it. Your home. The gates. The staff. The men who look like they could take down a small army before appetizers.”
One of the men near the wall almost smiles.
Maverick doesn’t look away from me. “You’re intimidated.”
“I’m trying very hard not to be.”
“Why?”
The question catches me off guard.
“Because I don’t want to seem ungrateful.”
“You are allowed to feel what you feel in my home.”
My chest pulls tight.
I glance at Livy, who is currently asking Rosa if the house has secret passages.
Then I look back at Maverick. “We’re not hurting, Maverick.”
His expression shifts. “I didn’t think you were.”
