“Actually,” he says, “I’d rather you call me Maverick, if that’s all right.”
“I suppose so.” She sighs like he’s asked a great sacrifice from her. “Is it because you’re dating my mama? Oh, wait. Can I call you Mav?”
“Yes, it is,” Maverick says.
I stumble.
His hand catches my elbow before I can embarrass myself in front of the marble staircase, the armed guards, his brother, and possibly every ancestor painted on the walls.
“Careful,bella.”
I blink up at him. “Yes, it is?”
His mouth curves. “Yes.”
“We’re not dating.”
Livy snorts.
Stefano makes a sound that suspiciously resembles a laugh.
Maverick doesn’t look away from me. “Not yet.”
My face goes hot.
“Subtle,” I mutter.
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
Livy looks between us with delight. “Mama, your face is red.”
“Olivia.”
“It is.”
“Keep walking.”
She grins, then looks back at Maverick. “So why can’t I call youDon?”
“BecauseDonis not my name,piccola. It’s my title.”
“What’s the difference?”
“My family calls meDonbecause I lead them. It reminds everyone of my place in this house. My responsibility.”
Livy thinks about that.
“It’s like being the boss?”
“Yes.”
“The big boss?”
Stefano coughs. “Careful. His head is already large enough.”
Maverick ignores him. “Something like that.”
Livy tilts her head. “Then why don’t you want me to call you that?”
