Page 87 of On Ice

“Really?” He blinks at me, and his surprise seems genuine.

I shrug. “You seem to think it’s important, so I’ll do it.”

He smiles and heat flutters through me. “That’s fantastic. Thanks, Evan.”

“Uh, sure.” I’m not sure why it feels so good to make him happy.

Some of the tension in his shoulders eases. “It’ll be fun. My family will be there too, so you’ll know a few people.”

“Will they be there?” I brighten. I’m especially happy to hear Isabella will be there. She’s so warm, I feel the most comfortable with her.

“Yes. Mario Spongilla is an important ally of the Barone Syndicate. The whole family wants to be there to celebrate his daughter’s marriage. Thanks again for agreeing to be there with us.”

“You’re welcome.” I grimace.

“It’ll be nice to spend some time with you again.” His gaze travels over my bare chest and shoulders. I can see the heat in his dark eyes, but he simply moves toward the connecting door.

“What am I going to do about a suit?”

“I’ll call my tailor when I get back to my room,” he says over his shoulder. “I’ll ask him to deliver the suit early tomorrow morning.”

I frown. “Doesn’t he need my measurements for the suit?”

He stops and pivots, facing me. “No.”

“No?” I give a confused laugh.

He gives a salacious smile. “I’m familiar with your body, remember?”

My cheeks warm. “I’m familiar with yours too, but not sure I could order you a suit from memory, and have it fit right.”

He hesitates, pursing his lips. “Tell you what. If the suit doesn’t fit well, I’ll let you out of our agreement.”

Shocked, I blink at him. “Seriously?”

“Sure.” He tugs at one of his robe cuffs, looking unconcerned.

I laugh. “Just like that? You’d really let me out of our agreement with no repercussions?”

“Absolutely. If the suit doesn’t fit you like a glove, you’re a free man.” He meets my gaze again, his expression cocky. “Deal?”

“Uh… yeah, deal,” I mutter, eyeing him suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not just toying with me?”

“I’m not. You’ll just have to trust me.”

“You don’t ask for much, do you?” I say wryly.

He smiles. “Have a good night’s sleep, Evan.” He leaves my room without another word.

I slide down under the covers, bewildered by why he’d make a bet like that. He’s either supremely confident, or he really has lost interest in me. I’m bewildered to feel a nudge of disappointment that it might be the latter.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Luca

The Palazzo Grande’s ballroom balances opulence with taste, crystal chandeliers casting warm light over gold-leafed columns, arrangements of white roses and orchids strategically placed to impress without overwhelming. Mario Spongilla has transformed the space into a statement of both wealth and refinement for his only daughter’s wedding. Three hundred guests fill tables draped in silk, the ambient noise a blend of conversation, string quartet, and occasional laughter that rises above the general murmur.

Evan shifts beside me, the subtle adjustment of his shoulder against mine feels nice. I’m sure he’s only standing so close to me because he’s intimidated by the situation. But I still enjoy the warmth of his body. It’s been way too long since I’ve had a taste of him. That’s something I hope to rectify tonight. If things go well today, I fully intend on sleeping with him.

---