Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
That thought made my skin heat up. At work, when patients were in pain, I was the one making split decisions and figuring out what to do—at least until a doctor showed up. In my personal life, however, it was a bit different. I was usually the one calling the shots, but it wasn’t because I wanted to. It was more like most of the men I’d dated refused to take a strand.
Again, not going to be a problem with Cesare, and I didn’t quite know how I felt about that. Except from the flush I felt growing on my chest, my body was okay with it.
We talked as we waited for the food. Mostly about neutral things like my work. His past trips to Italy. Things that weren’t likely to get us into trouble. And I also probed a bit more about how Leo was doing. To my relief, it sounded like he was recovering nicely.
To my surprise, we didn’t run out of topics, at least not until his cell phone buzzed. I couldn’t help sneaking a peek as he fished it out of the front pocket of his jeans. His tight jeans. I was more familiar with human anatomy than most people and judging from the way the denim stretched over his hips, all of Cesare was bigger than average.
That thought made me gulp.
But the way Cesare’s expression hardened killed the erotic thoughts in my head. He nodded, said a few terse words, and then ended the call. “I have to go.”
Damn. Disappointment filled me—more than I would have expected it to. “Is everything okay?”
He shrugged in a noncommittal way. “It will be, but I have to go now. I’m sorry about our dinner.” We both looked up as the waitress appeared with our food. “Why don’t you stay and eat? It’s on me.” He extracted a wallet from another pocket and threw a wad of bills on the table.
I wiped my mouth with my napkin and put it on the table. “No, I’ll go, too.”
Cesare nodded and addressed the waiter. “Wrap up both the steaks and send them with her.” Then he got to his feet, looking impossibly tall. “Can we reschedule?”
Damn it…
What could I have said? What words could come out of my mouth that wouldn’t make me sound like a total bitch? I hadn’t had a nice date in a year, and it had been cut short by something that Cesare wouldn’t disclose to me. But the word that slid past my lips was, “Yes.”
“Tomorrow night?” he asked.
I thought it over. I’d still be off work, so that worked out. “Okay. Where?” I honestly didn’t have any ideas, but then I thought of something. “Maybe someplace quieter?”
Not that it was loud here, but it was very public, and that had made it hard to get past the small talk stage, though that had been enjoyable.
“Do you cook?” he asked.
“Sometimes,” I was surprised into saying.
“Then how about your place?”
I blinked up at him. Damn, he was bold. We barely knew each other, and what I did know about him should’ve sent me running for the hills. Yet I didn’t. “Okay.” Then worry immediately hit. “I mean, I don’t cook all that well. And the place is a mess. And—”
None of those were the real reason I shouldn’t be inviting a tough, powerful man like him into my home, but it didn’t really matter. Cesare ignored them and placed his index finger on my lip, as if shushing me. “Anything you prepare will be great, or text me and I’ll bring takeout.” He removed his finger but replaced it with his mouth, bending down low to give me a quick reminder of our previous kiss.
It wasn’t long, and it definitely wasn’t enough, but when he pulled away, I had my eyes closed and my lips felt swollen.
When I felt settled enough to look up, Cesare was already striding away, the other diners pausing to watch the imposing figure go by.
The waitress, too, was watching his exit. Once we could no longer see him, she turned back to me, our plates still in her hands. “Wow,” she said with a sigh.
That was my thought exactly.
7
LEONARDO
A worried Matteo and an angry Cesare.
It was hard to believe, but I missed the relative calm of the hospital as I sat in the recliner in my living room. My chest hurt and I was supposed to be recovering, yet what was I focusing on? A worried Matteo and an angry Cesare.
Wasn’t life just fucking great?
The wounds would take care of themselves—eventually. But Matteo and Cesare were a whole different matter. Or rather, two, whole different matters. I needed every bit of patience I could muster, if I had any hope of surviving the evening with them with my sanity intact.
It was Saturday night, the time of the week where people were supposed to be going out and having some fun with friends or girlfriends. Instead, I was going to spend it with a lunatic and a geek.