Page 75 of Valentino

"I wasn't looking."

"Mm."

"I wasn't."

That almost-smile appears again.

Barely there. Infuriating.

"You were."

Heat rushes into my face.

"I was not."

His eyebrow lifts.

I hate that eyebrow.

"Get dressed.”

I bend for the hoodie because the alternative is standing here naked while he looks at me with those dark eyes.

I pull it over my head and shove my arms through the sleeves.

When I look up, he's still watching. Arms crossed now. Leaning against the wall in that way he has.

I wonder if he knows he does it. I wonder if there's a single second of his life he spends not preparing for the next disaster.

"You're impossible," I tell him.

"You've said."

"I'm going to keep saying it." I climb onto the bed and sit against the headboard, putting a little distance between us before I do something embarrassing. "Is this the new normal? You get exactly what you want and then leave me arguing with you about it?"

He huffs through his nose, the closest he comes to laughing.

Then the amusement leaves his face, and my stomach sinks.

The man who lives in contingency plans and exit routes is back.

"In about three hours we move," he says.

"I know. Rome."

He nods once. "Luca takes the lead car. You'll be in the second with me and Mancini."

Something about the way he says it makes me sit up straighter. "What happened?”

His jaw shifts. "Nothing."

It's such an obvious lie I almost laugh. "Valentino."

He pushes off the wall, and suddenly I know he's about to leave before I get the full answer.

"Wait."

He stops, one hand already reaching for the door, and turns back, a hint of hesitation in his eyes that I'm not sure I understand.