Page 53 of When She Tempts (The Fallen)
I shift in my seat. “You don’t even knowme.”
His eyes tighten at the corners. “We’ve spent a good amount of time together over the last few days, don’t you think? Do you want to know what I’ve seen?”
My pulse flutters. “What?”
“There are two types of people in this world—those who experience pain and let it consume them, and those who accept it as part of themselves, learn from it, and keep fighting. You’re a fighter, Martina.”
“Have you forgotten what I was like when you picked me up? I was practically catatonic.”
“But you didn’t stay that way for long. It’s not in your nature to wallow in misery.”
“That’s because you didn’t let me!”
His lips lift on one side. “I may have provoked you, but trust me, if you really wanted to continue drowning in your guilt, you would have. You responded to me. You went out to the garden. You came to the gym. I barely did anything. It was all you,piccolina.”
Little one.
My eyes widen until they must take up my entire face. He takes in my expression and sucks in his cheeks before glancing away.
I finger the edge of the tablecloth, at a loss of what to say. How can his opinion of me be so different from how I feel about myself? Yes, I feel slightly better than when I first arrived. The classes have helped me gain some confidence, but the feeling is fleeting. When we’re on the mat, I’m in the moment, and there’s no time to question myself. But when we’re off it, reality creeps back in.
I’ve failed so badly, and at such a high cost…
“I don’t feel like a fighter,” I say softly. “I wish I was different.”
There’s a pause. Unexpectedly and almost hesitantly, his big hand reaches across the table and clasps mine.
“I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”
I lift my chin, and our eyes lock. His expression is closed off, but some emotion crisscrosses over it. A flash of warmth he can’t contain. It travels through the air and pierces through my chest.
Seconds later, he’s pulling back his hand and picking up his cutlery. “Healing takes time, Martina. But you’ll get there,” he says, his voice gruffer now.
I pretend to get back to my food and move it around my plate.
Did he really just tell me he thinks I’mperfect?
I feel like I’m having a stroke.
My breathing is unsteady, and my heartbeat is a jumbled mess.
I force myself to take a bite, but my gaze keeps returning to his face.
Sharp cheekbones. Fine lines around his eyes. A well-defined jaw. He seems like such a hard man, so difficult to read, and yet this isn’t the first time he’s shown me softness.
Does he show it to anyone else but me?
“When I spoke to your brother last night, he asked me to tell you both him and Valentina are doing fine, and that they miss you,” he says, and I get the feeling he’s trying to change the direction of our conversation.
I swallow. “What else did he say?”
“Their days are filled with many meetings and negotiations.”
“With the capos?”
“Yes, and other key players in the clan.”
“Are things going well?”
