Page 52 of My Dark Fairy Tale
He was one of the most ruthless bastards I knew, but his public persona was almost debonair, flirtatious with women and chummy with men.
“Leo,” Delfina and I both scolded at the same time.
Guinevere offered him her own cool smile, an expression I found wildly attractive. “I am an American traveling from the Midwest. I’m more likely to know U of M college football stats than I am to know about some random Italian businessman.”
“Not so random,” Leo countered. “One of the richest men in the country.”
“Leo,basta,” I told him.
Enough.
“I’m just making conversation with your ... friend,” Leo protested with a plastic smile. “What did you say you do when you aren’t traveling? Or are you old enough to work?”
A growl worked itself out of my throat, and I dropped my arm around Guinevere to step in front of her, blocking his view. “I saidenough. Speak like that to her again, and you will not like the person I become.”
“To defend her againstme?” he asked in Italian, eyes blown wide with shock. “I’m your brother.”
“That does not mean you can speak to her like she is an enemy. I hit her with my car after she was nearly sexually assaulted on the side of the road. She is more Bambi than hunter. Let her be and leave her to me.”
“Leave her to you,” he echoed, trying to process my words. “Who is this girl, Raffaele?”
“No one to you,” I declared.
But someone to me,I didn’t say.
We stared at each other for a long moment, two predators snarling over prey, but finally Leo looked away with a grimace.
“Apologize,” I suggested, unafraid to rub dirt in his wounded pride.
Leo’s expression was sour as he spoke slowly in English, like Guinevere was stupid. “I am sorry. You just look like someone I once knew, and it took me by surprise.”
“An unpleasant one, obviously,” Guinevere noted, and I was not sure how much of our Italian argument she understood, but I had to admire her grace as she inclined her head at him. “It’s forgotten. From what I understand, Raffa isn’t known for his kindness, so it’s probably strange to see him with a woman like this.”
“It’s not at all strange to see him with a woman,” Leo muttered.
“As hisfriend,” Guinevere corrected with a saccharine smile.
He snorted under his breath, but I decided we were done with him.
“Take Delfina back home when you are done with Mario,” I told him before turning to my sister with a much softer expression. “Delfi, I will see you soon.”
“Very soon,” she vowed, an implied threat that if she did not get the details of myfriendshipwith Guinevere within twenty-four hours, she would show up at my doorstep.
I nodded, kissing her goodbye. “Ciao, sorella mia.”
“It was lovely to meet you,” Guinevere told my sister when I pulled away, offering her hand to shake.
I hid my smile behind my hand at the typically American gesture and watched as Delfina pulled her in for kisses.
“Very good. I am sure I will see you again,” she promised before turning to follow after Leo, who was already stalking through the lobby away from us.
I was certain she would not, if I had anything to do with it.
These worlds colliding only strengthened my conviction that they could not coexist. The man I could be with Guinevere in the sanctity of our own bubble was not that man I’d honed myself into carefully and meticulously, like the edge of a blade. She was happy to believe she had done a good service today in showing me the winery was being stolen from, and I did not want to test what she might think if she discovered the only compensation I would seek from the thieves would be paid in blood.
I could have this, I told myself as I wordlessly took Guinevere’s hand to lead her to the cellar and our private tasting room, but this fantasy had a deadline, and after five weeks, our relationship would turn into a pumpkin and I’d be left right back where I was before.
More metal than man.
