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He’s still watching me with amusement as he murmurs, “I did.”
Lifting a hand, I run a finger over the buttons of his vest. “Want to continue what you started?”
Suddenly, laughter bursts from him, and he sets the tumbler down before shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.
“I’m curious to see how far you’ll take this,” he says as he looks at me again.
Crap. He’s not falling for the act.
Changing tactics, I let out a sigh, and crossing my arms over my chest, I force myself to think of Dad and the state he was in so the memory will bring tears to my eyes.
With my chin trembling, I say, “Can you blame me, Renzo? I’m lonely. Is it so hard to believe I crave human interaction?”
The amusement vanishes from his face, and his breathing actually speeds up.
Did the threatening tears actually work?
He stares at me for a moment, then whispers, “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.”
It is?
“I’m sure I’ve said it before.”
He shakes his head. “No, you haven’t.”
I take in his strong reaction to hearing his name and wonder why it matters.
“Renzo,” I say it again. “Renzo Torrisi.”
His expression grows serious, and his eyes sharpen on me. “That’s enough mind games for one night.”
Lifting my chin, I say, “I’m not playing mind games.” When he walks past me, I hurry to add, “I’m stuck here forever. The least you can do is let me get to know you better.”
He stops walking, and standing with his back to me, he asks, “What do you want to know?”
“Anything.”
“I’m thirty-five, can’t cook to save my life, and love long walks on the beach.” Turning around, he gives me a mocking smile. “My favorite color is blue.”
Letting out a sigh, I lift my hand and push some hair behind my ear. “You’re being impossible.”
His expression darkens as he takes a step back toward me. “What do you want to hear,topolina? I’ve killed eighty-seven people. Some quicker than others.” He takes another step, and it feels like I’m being hunted. “I smuggle illegal arms and deal with people who would leave you traumatized for life if you ever met them.”
Another step brings him almost toe-to-toe with me.
He leans down a little. “And right now, I’m thinking about forcing you to marry me so you can give me the heir I lost. After all, I’m stuck with you for life. I might as well get something out of it.”
Jesus.
I’m so rattled the only thing I can say in my defense is, “I have to wait a year before I can have children.”
For the second time tonight, he lets out a burst of laughter before saying, “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll make sure to buy condoms when I go to the store again so I don’t get you pregnant before the year is up.”
Not winning with this man, anger starts to bubble in my chest, making me stupidly brave.
“Good. Make sure you stock up. I haven’t had sex in years,” I snap.
The man gives me whiplash as his expression turns serious again. “How many years?”
