Page 71 of When She Tempts (The Fallen)
“You’re up early,” I say as I round the table and take a seat to his right.
He moves his attention from his phone and gives me a once over, his eyes halting on the low neckline of my tank top. When they lift to my face, darkness swirls within them. “Good morning.”
Messy hair. Plain black T-shirt. A pair of dark-navy jeans. Tiredness crisscrosses his face, but there are no other clues as to what’s running through his head.
That is until I notice the way he’s gripping his phone.
There’s one thing I’ve realized about Giorgio over the past week—the man doesn’t fidget. The most he’ll do is run a hand over his tie or smooth his hair out of his face. Otherwise, his hands are as steady and controlled as a surgeon’s.
But right now, his thumb is anxiously rubbing back and forth against the edge of his device.
Something wicked sparks inside of me.Unsettled from last night?
It’s possible he’s worried about me telling Damiano about the kiss, but by now, he has to know I wouldn’t do that.
No. I’d bet anything the unease radiating from his stiff posture is there because he’s worried he didn’t fool me.
When he notices my gaze, his movements stop. He clears his throat and leans back into his seat. “You were at the gym?”
“No, I went running. To the edge of the forest and back. I also went to the top of the tower to check out the view. I thought I saw a small house in the woods? Do you know what that is?”
He flicks his hand dismissively. “Just an old ruin.”
“A ruin?” It didn’t lookthatbad.
Something tense passes over his expression. “There was a fire. The roof can collapse at any time. I’ve been meaning to get the thing torn down, but it’s not bothering anyone over there.”
We’re interrupted by Tommaso bringing out two cappuccinos and a basket of the cornetti. When he retreats, Giorgio folds his hands on the table and pierces me with a serious gaze.
“How do you feel?”
I glance down at myself. “Sweaty. I need a shower.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean then?”
His gaze darkens. “You know what. The incident last night.”
Under the tablecloth, I press my fingernails into my palms.
This is it. Can I find it in myself to be brave? Enough to show him that I want him? Enough to push past his attempts to pretend like what happened last night wasn’t real?
At worst, I’m totally wrong about him, and I’ll embarrass myself. But haven’t I already been doing that since I got here?
Really, I have nothing to lose besides my ego.
And who gives a crap about that?
I arch a brow at him. “You mean when you kissed me, and sucked on my neck, and dragged your mouth all over my breasts until I begged you to take off my shirt?”
He nearly chokes. “You did wha—”
“I begged you to take off my shirt.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. “You were in shock.”
“Maybe in the beginning, but I got up to speed pretty quickly.”
