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Leaning over her, I press a kiss to her jaw before saying, “Wake up,topolina.”
Her breathing changes, and her eyelashes flutter open. When she sees me sitting next to her, fear flashes over her face, and she quickly sits up.
Her tone is cautious as she asks, “What? Why did you wake me?”
“Get dressed,” I say as I get up. “We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”
“It’s still dark. What’s the time?”
“Four am.”
Walking to the door, I say, “If you want a chance to cook at La Torrisi, be downstairs in fifteen.”
As I leave the room, I hear her footsteps hurrying in the direction of the bathroom.
Letting out a chuckle, I head to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee. I only get to drink half of it before Skylar comes into the kitchen. Her hair’s tied back in a ponytail, and she’s wearing a black and white dress.
I hand her my cup. “Drink some.”
She doesn’t hesitate and takes a couple of sips before handing it back to me.
When her eyes connect with mine, a smile spreads over her face. “Are you really going to let me cook in your kitchen?”
“The kitchen belongs to Chef Alain,” I say. “But he won’t be in until eleven, so you’ll have plenty of time to make breakfast for me.”
Her smile widens even more, and I find myself staring at her with wonder.
“Prepare to have the best breakfast you’ve ever tasted,” she says, excitement coming off her in waves.
I drink the last of the coffee before putting the cup in the sink. When I walk toward the elevator, Skylar’s right behind me.
Once we’re in the elevator, I turn my head and stare at her. There’s no tension on her face, and she seems genuinely excited.
The doors slide open, and stepping out, I walk toward the Bentley. I didn’t bother calling Vincenzo and Fabrizio, leaving my men to get a good night’s sleep.
“No guards?” Skylar asks when I open the passenger door for her.
“No. It’s just us.” I don’t elaborate why.
She climbs inside, and while she tugs on the safety belt, I shut the door and walk around the front of the car.
Sliding behind the steering wheel, I adjust the seat before starting the engine.
When I pull out of the basement and steer the Bentley onto the quiet streets, I feel Skylar stealing glances at me.
“Sooo, last night was nice,” she murmurs. “We should do that again.”
Letting out a sigh, I mutter, “I’ll make you deal. Just for today, I won’t be an asshole, and you’ll drop the act.”
“What act?”
“The one where you think flirting with me will make me care enough to let you go.” My eyes flick to hers. “I’m not that kind of man. If you make me love you, there’s no fucking way I’ll let you go. You’re fighting a losing battle.”
“Are you saying there’s a chance you might fall in love with me?”
My hand grips the steering wheel tighter as I clench my jaw while growling, “Don’t make me regret bringing you along to La Torrisi.”
She drops the subject instantly and turns her attention to the window.
