Page 37 of Ruin

“I’m not special,” Claire replied, her hand reaching for the bread once more.

“I am telling you that you are. I am the picky one,” I said with a smile, standing from my chair and walking quickly to her side. I took the seat to her right, allowing the closeness to bridge the gap that had existed moments before.

“Oh, now you can sit down here? All the way down here?” Claire’s laughter was light, almost musical, as if she found my sudden proximity both amusing and endearing.

“The temptation has subsided…for now,” I said with a playful smile, placing my hand on her leg and gently pushing her robe up to feel the smoothness of her skin beneath my fingers. The moment was electric as our eyes locked, and her thigh twitched under my hand.

Suddenly, the staff appeared, placing small porcelain plates of tiramisu before us, the delicate gold forks gleaming under the candlelight.

“Oh my,” Claire gasped in delight. “You remembered my favorite.” She picked up her fork, her movements methodical as she dug into the rich dessert, inhaling the aromatic blend of espresso and cocoa.

“See. You are practically Italian. You would not need to assimilate at all if you just stayed here.” I laughed, enjoying the sight of her delight as I also lifted my fork, savoring a delicate bite of tiramisu.

After her first mouthful, Claire sat her fork gently on the side of her plate, her eyes locking onto mine with a penetrating gaze. “You know, you’ve said quite a few times that I should stay here. Do you mean in Italy?”

“No, I don’t,” I replied bluntly, placing my fork down with deliberate calm.

“Oh.” Claire’s sigh was heavy, her gaze dropping to her plate, as if trying to process the weight of my words.

“I mean, here with me, in my villa. Our villa…” I clarified, waiting for her reaction to settle.

“What?” Claire’s eyebrows shot up, her expression a mix of disbelief and curiosity. “Like, you want me to be your girlfriend and…stay here?”

“I want you to be more than my girlfriend, but sure, we can start there. For now,” I said with a smile, lifting my fork to finish my last bite of tiramisu. The declaration was both a promise and a challenge.

Claire’s reaction was immediate, her jaw dropping slightly as she spoke slowly. “You do realize that’s crazy, right? We met two days ago.”

“What’s crazy about that?” I asked, my smile shifting to a coy grin as I leaned back into my chair. My tone was light, but my mind raced with the implications of my words.

“We barely know each other.” Claire laughed, her amusement tinged with disbelief as she shook her head and pressed her hand to her forehead.

“What do you want to know?” I shrugged, tilting my head slightly. The question was genuine, though laced with the underlying edge of my desire to understand her better.

“Well, I can’t think of anything right this second,” Claire stammered, her thoughts visibly racing.

“Okay. Well, can you name one good reason not to stay with me forever? One logical reason?” I asked, my gaze steady as I watched her reaction.

The question lingered in the air, charged with unspoken promises and a future that seemed to beckon with both allure and uncertainty.

She leaned back, letting her words fill the air to face their judgment. “My job, my family, and the fact that I don’t really know you,” she stammered, as I watched her closely, gauging the sincerity of her statement. The gravity of her answer seemed to weigh heavily on her, and for a moment, she was silent, absorbing the implications of what I had just laid out.

I could not help but smirk slightly, feeling a mix of satisfaction and amusement as I said, “As for the job, that is an easy fix. I can be quite persuasive when I need to be. If you are with me, you will not need a job. But if you want to keep it, I am sure I could help position the move in a way that benefits your company. No sweat.” I gave a casual shrug, letting the offer linger in the air.

Claire did not immediately respond; her expression caught between disbelief and contemplation. I could see the realization dawning on her. It was a rare feeling, this kind of transparency. It seemed to both shock and intrigue her.

“Your family is no issue either. I have top-notch transportation arrangements. I can get you to Long Island in six hours, if necessary,” I said, my voice steady. I leaned forward slightly, my gaze intense as I added, “Anything else? I am talking genuine issues, not just petty excuses.”

She remained silent, processing what I had said. It was almost gratifying to see her struggling to wrap her mind around the straightforwardness of my offers. I enjoyed the way it unsettled her just enough to keep her off-balance.

“Would you like to finish your dessert?” I asked, trying to ease the tension that had built up.

“That’s okay,” Claire replied quietly, as if she were still trying to piece together her thoughts.

“Wonderful,” I said, standing up with a smile. I moved to her chair and helped her up, my hand casually resting on her back. The staff quickly moved in, clearing the table with practiced efficiency as we made our way back to the chamber below.

As we entered, the room was bathed in the warm, flickering light of a roaring fire. The fire cast long shadows and highlighted the room’s rustic Italian charm, making the space feel both intimate and grand.

Claire was momentarily lost in the firelight, her gaze wandering over the room as if searching for hidden secrets within its darkened corners. Her stillness was a clear sign of her preoccupation, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.