Page 87 of Hostile Secret
“Yanni said it’s okay.”
“Right… do you want me to make you something?”
He slots his little hand in mine and gazes up at me, his big brown eyes rich and innocent. “We’re going to my breakfast table.”
On Giovanni's side of the house? I shift a little, unsure whether I should go with him. Maybe this is a trick, or perhaps Leo has gone rogue again.
“Does Gio know you’re in here? Maybe we should check with him first.”
He lifts his wristwatch to his mouth and presses the button on the side. “Yanni?”
“I’m here, buddy.” My heart stills at the sound of Giovanni’s husky voice over the airwaves.
Leo presses the button again as he speaks. “She wants to know if it’s okay.”
There are a few seconds of silence and then Giovanni replies, “It’s okay.”
I’m speechless, but I try not to show it when Leo tugs at my hand. “Come on. I’m hungry.”
Together we follow the hallway to the kitchen where Leo uses his thumb print to gain access through the doors I’d only used once before.
The temperature changes when we enter the familiar concrete, windowless corridor.
Leo carries on walking, completely at ease in his surroundings, as if it’s a normal occurrence for him. Passing the elevator doors that lead to the ammunition bunker, we reach the door at the far end. The one Giovanni had made clear was out of bounds for me.
This time, he uses his whole handprint to unlock it. Pushing inwards, the smell of freshly baked bread and earthiness hits me first, followed by blinding sunlight streaming in from a glass ceiling.
The space is magnificent. I’d thought André and Giovanni were completely different. However, now that I’ve seen the walls of glass in here, it appears both of their homes utilize daylight to keep their demons at bay.
Leo guides me across creamy tiles and into a bright kitchen where Giovanni silently eyes me from a marble top peninsula. My pulse skips.
This morning, he’s wearing a crisp white t-shirt, and his dark hair is still damp from an early shower. The voice in my head won’t hush, telling me what I already know—he’s magnificent.
“Look, Yanni, she’s here.”
“I see that, buddy.” Giovanni’s presence holds me hostage, but his green gaze stays on the little boy.
“Ah! And this must be the beautiful India?” A woman’s happy voice sings over my shoulder. “So nice to finally meet you.”
I turn around to face an older woman with kind eyes. “This one has tortured Giovanni all week.” She laughs, placing her hand on top of Leo’s head. “He’s wanted you to join us for breakfast since Monday. Giovanni finally relented.”
“Oh…” I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile. “Thanks for the invitation. You must be Lola?”
“Sí, my love. However, the invitation came from him.” She smirks, her eyes darting sideways to where Giovanni is seated. “Please… sit.”
Lola shoos us across the room to join him. Leo lets go of my hand and jumps onto the high stool next to Giovanni. I dare to look in his direction and meet the hypnotic intensity of his green eyes staring right back at me.
“What can I get you to eat, my love?” Lola asks, setting a knife and fork out for an extra place.
“Watermelon, please,” I say breezily. “It’s my favorite.”
“Yanni, she likes watermelon too. Haven’t you eaten it all week?” Leo asks, blissfully unaware of the connection. “He usually eats cereal with me.”
“Oh, really.” My cheeks turn the same shade of red as watermelon flesh.
Giovanni looks up at me under his villainous black lashes and smiles. He shrugs one sinewy shoulder and slowly sucks his middle finger. “I decided it was time to try something different for a change.” The gritty texture of his voice matches the blistering heat behind his eyes as they undress me.
I’m on fire.
