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“Would you like something? There is plenty here,” I gestured to the basket and he stopped in front of me, towering over me with his 5-foot-11-inch height. I knew that because I had studied his soldier portfolio on more than one occasion.
“Grazie, but I could really do with some water, if you have any?” His deep Italian voice boomed out against the softness of our natural surroundings and I delved into the basket, praying Elle had packed more than just wine.
“Ah ha!” I announced, pulling out a cold bottle and holding it up to him.
“Grazie, Signora,” he replied formally and my smile faded. I couldn’t help it. As much as I tried to tell myself that this was his job, that he had to show me respect when conversing with me, it still bothered me greatly. I had known this man for many years and we had grown a lot closer in the past year or so.
“Please Marco, I have told you to call me Cecilia.”
He shook his head, “I can’t do that, Signora.”
“You can. And you will,” I ordered, using my stern voice I often used when dealing with mafioso men. His brown eyes locked with mine and I saw them soften with slight amusement.
“Fine. Only when we are alone though,” he responded. My heart flipped at that comment. It felt like a promise. A promise that we would be alone more often than not? That was ridiculous. Why was I letting my mind go there?
He took a seat on the grass just next to the blanket as if it would be a step too far to share a blanket with me. I rolled my eyes behind my glasses. He rested his huge arms on his parted knees and watched the children. Always on duty. He never relaxed.
“Have something to eat,” I said, pushing a plate towards him.
“Is that another order, Cecilia?” He smirked, suddenly leaning back on his hands. Was he flirting with me? It had been so long since I had been flirted with, I wasn’t quite sure.
“If it is, will you eat something?” I teased.
“I’ll have to,” he leaned to the side and cut himself some cheese and ripped apart the baguette with a manly roughness that made me lick my lips. I watched him with fascination as he made himself a sandwich and tore into it with his teeth. He caught me watching him eat and winked at me before settling his gaze back on my children.
Oh my. He was definitely flirting with me. This was new. He had been so closed off whenever I had made any flirtatious comments or had quickly looked away whenever our eyes locked but today, he was being… different. A blush snaked up my chest as I moved my gaze away from him and started to panic. What did this mean? Did he like me too? No. I shouldn’t even entertain this. I had been fighting my attraction to this man for far too long to break now. My heart will never belong to anyone but Vinny, so there was no point in exploring these feelings.
“So, do you still hate picnics?” He asked, pulling me from my frantic thoughts. I blinked at him from behind my sunglasses a few times, before I remembered that he had witnessed my entire rant about being dragged outside for this.
“They are growing on me,” the words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself. Damn, woman! Stop flirting! But when those dark eyes bore into mine with intensity, my mind cleared completely. I was frozen in place when he slowly reached over and lifted my sunglasses up, placing them on top of my head.
“That’s better,” he smiled before removing his hand and I finally felt like I could breathe again.
I cleared my throat awkwardly and shoved another grape in my mouth. Why did just that little action make my entire body come alive?
“Do you have a problem with sunglasses, Marco?” I asked, trying to ignore the excitement bubbling in my chest.
He chuckled darkly while holding my gaze. “Only when they hide pretty eyes.”
Okay. Now that is as obvious as he can get. He IS flirting with me! I looked away quickly, scared of the feelings his gaze was provoking in me and we settled into a weird silence. I am ruining it. The first man that has shown interest in me that I generally like and I am acting like a first prize idiot. Think. Say something. DO something before he thinks he has read this whole situation wrong and he goes back to being cold, unemotional Marco.
“Thank you for the other night. I don’t think I have had the chance to actually speak to you about it alone,” I said quickly, looking back over at him. He sat up straight and turned to face me directly. My eyes flickered down to the way his shirt strained against his muscles with each movement and the small tuft of black hair I could glimpse on his chest where his buttons stopped.
“You don’t need to thank me, Cecilia. I will always look out for you. And the children,” he added.
“Yes, but it is your job to care for them. You didn’t have to care for me like that. I appreciate it,” I said genuinely.
He sighed and placed the plate on the blanket, looking into my eyes again. I don’t think we had ever had this much eye contact in all the years he had worked for us as we did in the last ten minutes. And it was only heightening my attraction to him.
“I started working for your family over seventeen years ago. I was a young, low-ranking soldier and your husband, Vincenzo, saw potential in me. He pulled me up through the ranks quickly and he gave me what I believed was the most rewarding and important of all positions. Their protector. He trusted me with his children. I watched over Giovanni and Elle, now I protect Sani and Raya. But I have always watched you from afar too. I have seen you as a wife, a mother and a queen. Blissfully happy and in love. And then I watched that get ripped away from you. I watched you hit the lowest point in your life and pick yourself back up for your family. I have been in awe of you for years, Cecilia. I have admired you from a distance. You may not have known it but I have always watched over you. That night, I just didn’t try to hide it anymore.”
I stared at him, my eyes welling with unshed tears as I felt overcome with emotion. That was one of the loveliest things I had ever heard. He gave me a small smile and looked out across the lawn again, while I sat there unable to move, just letting his words roll over me like an ocean.
“Mamma!” Raya yelled, making me jump as I swallowed my complex feelings and turned to see my youngest bounding towards us with a goofy grin. “These are for you,” she held out her little hand which was full of wildflowers she had picked from the garden.
Bringing them to my nose, I inhaled their floral sweetness and smiled. ”Grazie, bella ragazza. I will just go and put them in water.”
I excused myself, standing up and avoiding Marco’s concerned gaze as I marched across the lawn barefoot until I reached the open doors of the patio. Walking briskly, my heart still pounding in my chest, I reached the kitchen and busied myself by looking for the perfect vase. Tears sprang to my eyes as I searched the cupboards and tried to fight the feelings that were storming through me after Marco’s confession. He had always been watching me. Looking out for me. Even when I didn’t know it. I had felt so alone for so long and just knowing he had always been there was overwhelming.
