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Except maybe that brandy glass. Feeling Raul Ossani’s lips against my… uh, my rim…
I place my own drink down on the coffee table, shaking my head. Think I’ve had enough.
The lights glow between tree branches, and a slow carol drifts from my phone where it’s balanced on the arm of the sofa. The safe house living room is always so boring and beige, like a middle range hotel with weirdly fancy artwork on the walls, but right now, there’s something magical about it.
“Lightweight,” Raul murmurs, and shivers ripple down my arms. “Santo will be pissed when he hears you tipped away his precious brandy.”
“Don’t tell him, then.” I nudge my elbow into the doctor’s side. His warm, muscled side. Oh god, this is the most we’ve touched inyears,and we’re pushing our luck, but I can’t stop. Won’t stop. “Snitch.”
Raul’s bark of laughter makes me feel like I’m floating. I flick one of the tiny bells dangling from the tree and it tinkles.
How many chances will we get like this again? How many moments alone back at the mansion?
I’m not crazy. Iknowwhat I’ve been feeling all day: the two-way tension in the air. The hungry glint in the doctor’s eyes, and the possessive way he tailed me around that farm. Not like a bodyguard, but like a lover.
And sure enough: “I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine.” The doctor’s voice is low. Gravelly.
“Dr Raul Ossani has secrets,” I mumble, not daring to glance at the man beside me. Wishful thinking can be a real pain in the ass, you know? “Let me guess: sometimes you cheat when you do the Sunday crossword?”
“Allegra.” Why do I love it so much when he chides me? “Look at me.”
Ah. Yeah.
Just like that, my mood sours.
Three little words, but it’s not so simple. Once I look at the doctor, he’ll see the emotions warring in my eyes: the irritation, the resentment, and above all, the unbearable longing. I’ve always been an open book to this man, and it pisses me off.
I flick the bell again, harder.
Why should I let him see how I feel? I did that once before, and look where that got me. Rejected and lonely for years. Feeling like a prize idiot for ever thinking that this man, so much older and wiser than me, could ever want a spoiled mafia princess.
We’ve just settled into a fragile truce. Why ruin it?
And why should I be vulnerable again?
“You really won’t look at me,” Raul says, and I hate that he sounds hurt. Jerk.
“Let me ask you something, doc.” I address the tree branches, but I know the doctor’s hanging on my every word. He’s barely breathing beside me. “If Santo told you tomorrow to never come near me again, what would you do?”
Raul is silent.
My chest burns, like there’s acid seeping through my ribs.
Yeah. Thought so.
Because he may want me while we’re here, safely away from my brother’s scrutiny, but Raul is Santo’s man, through and through. Loyal to the mob boss, not his baby sister. What is he hoping for, a holiday fling?
I sigh, swatting at the branches one more time before turning to leave.
Raul catches my upper arm, his grip gentle. “Wait. I would—I would tell him no. If you still want me, Allegra, I’ll tell him no.”
I press my lips together, and there are fireworks popping off inside my chest. But he… he doesn’t mean this. There’s no way. “Santo tends to win his arguments.”
“Not this one.” Raul spins me to face him, and finally I see it: the honesty and devotion burning in his eyes; the determined set to his jaw. Holy shit, hemeansit. The doctor has finally unraveled, and this sight? It’s magnificent.
“I’m yours, Allegra. If you’ll have me.”
I grip the front of his sweater, suddenly wobbly on my feet. “You could have had meyearsago—”
