Page 52 of The Red Queen

“I’ll get fat if you keep feeding me like this,” Desi murmured after the other woman left. Despite her words, she picked up her fork and dug in, eager to assuage her hunger with such a tempting array.

“Good,” Giovanni said, taking a hearty bite of his own food. “I prefer a woman with some curves.”

Desi glared at him. “Someone better than me?”

He laughed and reached over to pat her wrist. “You are perfect as you are, Desiree, but you would be even more perfect with some good food and wine in you. Whether it adds curves is not something I care about. Only that you receive the good things in life.”

“You are such a strange man.” She chewed on her food, staring suspiciously at him.

“Perhaps, but you’ll come to understand me.” He put his fork down and stared back at her, mesmerizing her with his intensity. “In time, you will also come to trust me.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she realized what he was saying. He didn’t trust her, not completely. But neither did she trust him. Because relationships, real ones, took time to develop. She hadn’t understood because she’d never had to properly develop a relationship with anyone.

“When you trust me… will you put me to work?” she asked tentatively, half afraid he would deny her.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, and something in her chest relaxed even as her libido picked up. “You’re a deeply skilled and passionate woman. I would be a fool to ignore your abilities. You’ve already become a valuable asset to me and one day soon you will be allowed to show my organization what you’re capable of.”

She drowned in his dark gaze as she processed his words. She was valuable to him. No one had ever said anything so kind to her before. It felt like a gift, one she was determined to hold dear.

“You won’t regret giving me your trust.”

“I know,” he murmured, then looked at her more seriously. “But you need to relax. Stop worrying about trying to impress me. I was impressed from the moment I knew you existed. Now I want you to take the things from life you’ve never experienced.”

“What things?” she whispered.

“I want you to be happy.”

She looked away, blinking away the annoying sheen of tears that showed up again. “I don’t think I know how.”

“You will,” he said, the assurance in his voice drawing her gaze back to him. He nodded toward her half-eaten crepes. “Start with breakfast and work your way up.”

She laughed, a strangled sound, and nodded. “Okay, I can do that.”

“Desi, you can do everything.”

And for the first time in her life, she believed the man who was laying the world at her feet.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“It’s white.” Desi stared at herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom.

“It’s beautiful.”

She turned on the spot to look at Donada, who was sprawled out on her bed, looking through the bridal magazines they’d bought together in Venice. The two women had grown closer as the days passed. Desi made it her daily ritual to visit Donada each afternoon for a glass of wine and a chat.

Their friendship was strange but comfortable. Or maybe it wasn’t strange. Desi wouldn’t know. She’d never had a female friend before. The two women had quickly evolved from their winery chats to shopping in the city and Desi meeting Donada’s partner, Alina. The three of them ate lunch at the club before Alina, who was multilingual, went to her job as a tour guide for incoming cruise ships.

“I don’t think I should wear white,” Desi said skeptically.

“Why? Because you’re not a virgin?” Donada asked with a laugh. “Very few people are virgins on their wedding days anymore. Thank goodness. Could you imagine marrying someone who turned out to be a bad fuck?”

Desi couldn’t help but laugh, then sobered as she thought about Giovanni. That man was a god beneath the sheets. And on top of them and anywhere else he caught Desi alone. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her, and she felt the same. It had been almost four weeks since they began sleeping together and the desire hadn’t waned. He spent every night in her bed with little of it spent sleeping.

“No, I mean… the life I’ve led,” she said, staring at the pristine dress. “I’ve done things that aren’t pure. I don’t deserve….”

Donada rolled off the bed and came to stand behind Desi, looking at her in the mirror. “Do you regret the things you’ve done?”

Donada knew a little of Desi’s past, but not enough to truly understand. There were some things Desi couldn’t bring herself to say out loud. How could she bring up things like how Nico used to allow his men to fuck her when he was out of his mind on drugs and alcohol? How he enjoyed her pain and humiliation. How could she explain the times she sat on the edge of her bed, holding her gun, and willing herself to put it to her head and pull the trigger? And that didn’t even cover the things she’d done of her own free will. The crimes she’d committed.

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