Page 147 of The Beast Who Begged Me

“Bring Rosa. We miss her cooking.”

“You can have a casserole,” Dami says. “But you’re not keeping her.”

Finch grins. “You got yourself a deal, my friend.”

Luca and I sit down at the poker table to observe the game. Neither of us is a poker player, I discover; perhaps it speaks to our shared control issues. No point playing a game where luck is such a big part of the outcome.

I sit close enough to Dami that we’re touching. His hand rests on my thigh, warm through the fabric, and I lean into him while Finch deals another round. Then the fingers on my thigh slide a little higher, and I lose track of the conversation.

Dami catches me looking at him and smiles. I want him alone. I want to stretch out with him in our bed, feel him settle around me, and take our fucking time.

When Vito arrives with the car, we say our goodbyes and head to the foyer. Dami holds my coat for me, his fingers brushing the nape of my neck as he settles the collar. His hand slides down to my lower back as the guard opens the door for us. The afternoon has cooled while I’ve been inside, and the first breath of chilly air makes me grateful for the coat.

“Home?” Dami asks, as we step outside.

I take his hand. “Home.”

CHAPTER 44

CALIGULA

Rosa puts another helping of potatoes on Dami’s plate, and he doesn’t even notice.

That’s when I start to worry. He’s barely touched the first helping, and when I catch his eye, he looks away and reaches for his wine.

The rest of the table seems perfectly happy. Sammy is protesting that he doesn’t need Ricky to cut up his dinner anymore, but lets him finish doing it. Vito beams at them over his glass, looking very respectable in a shirt I haven’t seen before, while Rosa tells Dami to eat up before it gets cold. She’s made enough for twelve people and lit candles, for some reason.

I would be enjoying myself if Dami would take a bite. The last time he went off his food, it was because he was planning to lock me in the safe room. Instead of eating, he puts his hand on my thigh beneath the table and leaves it there. When I cover it with mine, his fingers tighten.

“Everything alright?” I ask quietly.

“Yeah.” He looks at me, then down at our hands. “Yeah, all good.”

I don’t believe him. We’ve had a couple of quiet weeks, but I know better than to assume that means nobody’s planning anything. Still, I thought we were long past him deciding which problems I’m allowed to hear about.

By the time Rosa begins clearing, I’ve decided he’s not leaving this kitchen until he tells me what’s going on. Then suddenly everyone has somewhere to be. Ricky steers Sammy toward the stairs with a hand on his good shoulder and Vito brings up the rear. Even Rosa follows, without preparing her tools for the morning, as is her usual habit.

I watch her go. Then I turn to Dami.

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing’s happened.” He stands, pushing his chair back. “Come here.”

I get up. “If something’s wrong, I need to know.”

“I know.” His expression changes as he looks at me. “Fuck. Caligula, nothing’s wrong, I swear. Everyone’s safe.”

He comes around the table and takes my hands. I’m about to ask him what the hell is going on when he lowers himself onto one knee.

My fingers tighten on his. “Dami?”

“I love you.”

I stare down at him. His hands are steady around mine, and he keeps looking at me while I try to do something with those words I’ve wanted to hear so badly. I thought I would smile when he finally said them. Instead, my eyes sting. I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out.

I free one hand to touch his face. He turns into it, pressing his mouth to my palm.

“When I came into that hospital and found you checked in under my name, I knew,” he goes on. “I knew that I loved you. And I realized I wanted my name on you for good.” His mouth brushes my palm again. “Couldn’t fucking say it. But I knew.”