Page 67 of Unrelenting
“Looks like someone’s immune to your charms,” I murmur.
“And not just him.” Niamh narrows her eyes seductively and puts her hand on my thigh. She leans in close. “I’ll bet if I tried to drag you to the linen closet, you’d turn me down flat.”
I glance at the spaces my cousin and her husband are yet to fill. “I think the linen closet is occupied.”
Niamh backs off, a knowing grin on her face. “But you’d still say no because you’ve got your pretty chef now.”
“How do you know she’s a chef?” I ask as I pick up my fork and stab at the food in front of me. I’m not a fan of seafood in general and scallops in particular.
“Your brother told me.”
I roll my eyes. “Damiano is such a gossip.”
Niamh shakes her head. She picks up her wineglass, wrapping her long, elegant fingers around the stem. “Not Damiano, Gabriele.”
Setting my fork down, I turn to her. “You spoke to Gabriele?”
I’m not sure whether I’m more surprised that she spoke to him or that he knew about Lucia.
Hearing our conversation, Damiano turns to us. “What’s this?”
“Niamh spoke to Gabriele,” I explain.
“When?”
“Earlier today,” Niamh says. “He wants to see me.”
Damiano and I exchange a look of total shock. Our brother has slowly reduced contact with us to the point where it feels as if we’re strangers.
It’s only a couple of days since he denied me access to his home and spoke to me over the intercom as if I was some fucking delivery boy.
Now he wants to see Niamh? They’re friends, sure, but they aren’t close.
“What for?” Damiano asks.
Niamh shrugs. “No idea, but I’m flying to Rome in a couple of days.”
“Will you let us know what he says?” I already know what her answer will be.
She shakes her head, her expression full of regret. “You know I can’t do that, Lorenzo.” Before either Damiano or I can argue, she adds, “But I will let you know if you have any reason for concern.”
It’s as much as we can expect. Niamh prides herself on her discretion. She’s not going to betray our brother’s secrets. I just hope this means Gabriele is ready to engage with the world once more.
TWENTY
Lucia
After hearingnothing from Lorenzo over the past week, apart from the occasional text, I should be mad as hell when he shows up at my apartment. But I can’t bring myself to slam the door in his face.
He looks kind of cute in anI Heart New Yorkbaseball cap and aParis, Je t’aimet-shirt worn under his signature black leather jacket. If those weren’t enough of a clue to where he’s been, then the Saks Fifth Avenue bag and box of La Duree macarons he’s carrying would point me in the right direction.
“Nice outfit.”
Lorenzo grins. “I thought you’d appreciate it.” He leans in to kiss my cheek. “Did you miss me?”
“Not even a little.” I stand aside to let him in.
“Liar.” He treats me to a boyish grin as he heads for the living room. “I went to the restaurant. Stefan said you were taking the night off. You’re not sick, are you?”
