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“I know,” he replied, his voice guttural.
“I’ve never…”
“I know,” he said again.
She cupped his face. Something sparked between them. Something that burned longer and slower than the passion that had just erupted between them. Something forever could be made of. She smiled at him and he smiled back.
“Let’s get cleaned up and head to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.”
Vivi nodded. “Okay.”
That night, all her dreams were of Lincoln and their future.
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, they left early, heading once more to the Romanelli mansion. Lincoln wondered if he should leave her behind for her own safety. It had pissed him off that Matteo Romanelli just left her to wander through their house. She could’ve easily stumbled into a room where sensitive information was, leading to her compromising the fucking mafia, and forcing Pietro’s hand. Vivi didn’t exactly have the track record of decorum. Secrets weren’t her thing.
He probably should’ve left her behind. Maybe have given her back to her sister, although he doubted she would’ve just walked away. Vivi had a mind of her own. She had told him they were together forever, and truthfully, he had no problem with her claiming him. Wasn’t like he indulged in the sweet butts at the club. With his ability to magnify pain, it always scared him that he’d do something to someone and really hurt them. For some reason, however, he felt Vivi could take his pain, although that was completely ridiculous. Maybe it had something to do with her ability to calm him down and ease the migraines.
“Stop thinking.”
He shot her a look before returning his focus to the road.
“Isn’t that like saying stop breathing? How does a person stop thinking?”
“Get an earworm.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know, when a catchy song gets stuck in your brain and goes on repeat over and over and over and—”
“I get it,” he interrupted.
“ ‘Oops I Did it Again’ is a great song to get stuck on the turntable.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Okay. Well, since I mentioned turning tables, how about that one?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Adele. Surely, you’ve heard of her.”
“I’ve heard of her. Do I look like a man who listens to Adele?”
“Point noted.” She brought her finger up to tap at her lips as she thought. “Tay Tay? Dua? Selena? Sia?”
“I know you’re speaking English but I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
She sighed dramatically. “I don’t blame you. I’m really bad at English and it’s the only language I know. Go figure.”
They arrived at the gate of the Romanelli mansion and the guard allowed them entrance. In the daylight, it was even more magnificent than at night. Armed guards watched them intently, from the grounds, and up along the steps leading to the front door.
Lincoln slipped the truck into “park” and shut off the engine, then glanced at her. “You sure you’re good at hanging out in the pool-house all day? It’s not going to trigger memories of being a captive, right?
“No, because I can leave the pool-house.”
“You cannotwalk around.”
