Page 9 of Spring Break with a Mafia Prince
“When was that?”
“Last week.”
I rolled my lips inward. Anyone else might be horrified at that statement, but I got it. Besides, I didn't want to call him out on a lifestyle I doubted he could control if his family was anything like mine. “What are you studying?”
“Economics.” He toyed with my hair. “What about you? Are…”
“Art history. It’s a family business. But also, I love it.” I shrugged, all too used to hearing why my choices were poor.
“Sounds magical.”
“It’s dry.” I laughed. “You know, you wanted to feed me but that’s a door that goes both ways. Eat.” I lifted his roll and wiggled it.
Both eyebrows raised. “Where I’m from—” He broke off for the second—or was that the third time—this morning.
I mirrored his eyebrows. “Doesn’t that give you a headache after a while? You’re gonna need Botox. Where you’re from, what? Doesn’t anyone dare challenge The All Great and Mighty Falcon Gianio?” I teased.
He snored. “Hell, no. You don’t want to find out what happens to the ones who do,” he muttered, despite the way his smile curved up at one side. He took a bite of his roll, regardless.
We finished our rolls in silence, and I sipped at the small glass of wine he poured for both of us afterward, when he wouldn’t let me help clean up.
I knew he meant it. I knew exactly who he was when I met him the night before. Dad talked about all of them, warning me away from the group below which was why I was left on the deckafter he checked there was no one left wandering around with assurances I’d be safe, if somewhat frozen.
A shiver rippled over me. I reached for Falcon’s jacket I’d left on the seat beside me in the sunshine. His hand on my wrist stopped me.
“Cold?” he murmured, sliding his other arm across my back. I nodded and he tucked me into his side, resting his chin on the top of my head. Warmth pervaded me, sinking bone deep. Deeper than the fluffy material ever could. “I wish we could stay here like this.” He stroked my arm gently in time with the sway of the boat.
“We can’t.” I hated that I said anything and shut my mouth fast.
Stupid, stupid.
It sounded ungrateful, and he’d been so sweet, saving me from a day of worrying after Dad, who would have told me to leave him alone in the nicest terms anyway.
Just another solitary day wandering about Love Beach. The perfect place to be the loneliest person in the world.
“Lost you there.” His touch grazed my cheek as he tipped my head back to rest against his shoulder.
Warm breath brushed my lips. “Sorry.” I bit my lip. “I?—”
“You don’t need to apologize to me, Bella. Ever.” He shifted so we faced each other, though he still held me close.
My eyes drifted shut. I didn’t want to have this conversation. Despite being up close and personal with Falcon Gianio’s stunning, carved face, I blocked him out.Okay,I started to say, but his mouth pressed gently to mine, warm and open, in the lightest, noninvasive kiss possible.
Breath caught in my throat. We stayed like that for the longest moment, his hand curved around my cheek, stealing warmth from each other. Slowly our lips parted. He drew back like he had the night before, and the smallest sound left my lips.
Don’t stop like that. I wanted to say it, but I couldn't, and tipped my chin down to hide my disappointment. As always, I was unwilling to push into that space where if I did something wrong, he could reject me and that would hurt twice as much.
The soft growl reverberated through his chest where my hand rested, toying with the buttons on his shirt, breaking me out of my headspace.
“Don’t do that, Bella,” he murmured, the lightest warning note in his voice.
“Do what?” I couldn't look at him, my cheeks blazing.What did I do wrong?
“Don’t hide from me. You are beautiful, just like your name.” His hold drew my chin back up. I reluctantly met his gaze. “If you want something from me, say so.”
My mouth dried. “I don’t— I mean, I can’t?—”
I stumbled over every word, stuttering just like six-year-old me used to do when I was shoved on stage at school and ended up running off crying because I couldn't remember the words. The spotlight had never been my favorite place.
