Page 21 of The Beast's Broken Beauty

My brain searches for some kind of deal that he might go with. "Divorce?"

"Definitely not," he growls like the simple idea is an insult.

"Fine. We'll stay not-happily-married." I pause, thinking. "I want to go visit Naomi."

"In Ireland?"

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

That was worth a try.

And then he adds, "Plus you'll see her on Saturday." I lean back against the seat, at loss for words.

"She's going to be there? For real?"

"Yes."

I'm really not sure I can believe him, but part of me wants to hang on to hope.

"Then, I want a weekend with her. Here. Elena can join us. Just the three of us. And Signora Martha if she wants."

He pauses for a second. Thinking. And for a moment, I believe maybe, just maybe I might finally get something that I want.

"That doesn't depend on me. Connor may have other plans."

"Then, ask him. You have a phone that you've been using. But that's not the deal I want—this is just common decency."

"Common decency? I'm almost ready to make a concession and that's still not enough?"

His jaw clenches. It seems I'm finally getting under his skin and for some reason, that has me relaxing my shoulders slightly.

If I annoy him, that means there might still be a way to reach whoever he used to be. Not because I believe in happily-ever-after for us, but because maybe, just maybe, he can realize that he's been wrong.

I clear my throat. "Did you ever investigate more about the letter? About what happened?"

"Are you really asking me that?" His tone is thunderous, but I won't back down.

"I am. And that's the deal I want to make with you. I want you to keep me updated about your investigation."

"The one that will reveal you were responsible for my mother's death." His words still sting more than they should.

"I already told you I feel responsible. But I didn't... I didn't set a trap for her. I didn't play a role in trying to get her killed. I told my father more than I should have. But I didn't..." My throat tightens and the words don't want to get out. "I didn't..." I try again and look into the mirror to see if Dean has any reactions. He might know something, too.

Antonio taps his finger faster then stops. "Fine, I'll keep you updated and you'll do as I say during the dinner. You'll be charming and you'll help me win over the Greeks."

I lift a shoulder. "Sure thing. And I want that weekend with Naomi and Elena. We'll be on the grounds. There must be another house on this property."

"We'll see about that."

At least he didn't say no.

But as we drive back toward the fortress, I wonder what exactly I'm going to need to pretend during that dinner and why. Why is it so important we show a united front? But as I ask him the question, he ignores me. Oh, he opens the door for me, giving me a look and whispering, "We have to practice being civil toward one another." And I can't avoid brushing against him as I step out, and for a split second, my body reacts, a wave of longing to lean closer, to hide in the shelter of his firm chest, to breathe in the mix of danger and memories. But I shove down those ridiculous daydreams. I'm too old to play pretend. And the memories of his betrayals are too fresh, too raw, too much. It's like he's finding a new game to keep me on my neuropathic toes.

"Civil. I can do that. But wow, the bar is low." And I stride forward, only to be met by Elena and Signora Martha, smiling at me.

Elena jumps up and down, "Come, come." She takes my hand as Antonio stays behind.

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