Page 15 of Older Hotter Grumpier
“He hasn’t, has he?” Severino smirks, and it’s Rafe’s face, but the expression is totally alien to me. “Nothing about growing up in one of the roughest parts of London, all the things he did to claw his way out of poverty. Nothing about nights we went hungry, or how he got that scar on his shoulder.”
A scar? I guess he must have lots, given he runs a mafia. But I’ve never thought about his body except in terms of how beautiful it must be. Not the uglinesses.
“You haven’t seen the scar, have you? Or the tattoos.” Severino guesses correctly, and gives me an even more appraising look. “You are very young, maybe he didn’t want to scare you.”
“I’m not a child,” I grind out.
“Does my brother know, I wonder? Since he obviously hasn’t got naked with you.”
I bite my lip. I wish I could make some smart response. Instead, I opt to pathetically ask for more details about my obsession while I can. “So you didn’t grow up rich?”
“No.” Severino’s smile fades to a sombre expression that’s much more familiar. “Every penny of all our fortunes is from work, clever investments, and ruthlessness.”
“Self-made,” I whisper, and I can’t keep the admiration from my voice. It’s one thing to be born into wealth. To build it from nothing is far more impressive. “I knew he was.”
“And did you know that’s why he runs this charity event?”
That jolts me.
“He does?” I didn’t, but now Severino has said it, it makes perfect sense. Rafe has a core of integrity I admire, but it’s not splashy. He doesn’t talk about the nice things he does.
“With me.” Severino nods with a cynical edge. “We’ve shared a lot, over the years…”
What? A strand of hair has come loose, and I nervously tuck it behind my ear. Severino’s gaze goes straight to my hand, then stills like he’s in shock.
“Fuck.” He laughs disbelievingly, but there’s a shadow of sadness in it too. Longing. “He didn’t tell me that, or I wouldn’t have tried to get myself murdered. Nice ring. Congratulations on your engagement, Miss Button. How long have you been together?”
I stutter, unprepared for such a question, and furious with myself. Why didn’t I insist that Rafe and I discussed a story?
Because you were distracted by his eyes on you while you touched yourself, the dresses he bought, and the sheer intoxicating feeling of being with him.
Thank you, inner snark. That’s true but not at all helpful right now.
My body tightens uncomfortably. I’m going to be found out. What can I say?
“A year and a half,” Rafe’s reply comes from behind me.
“That long.” Severino looks over my shoulder, blue eyes flashing. “You’ve been keeping secrets…”
“I was waiting for you at the other door,” Rafe says to me, brows low and dark, handing me back my champagne flute.
“Sorry. I took a wrong turn, and then…”
Rafe sighs and nods, pulling me to him. “You got conned. It’s me that’s sorry.” He glares at his brother. “I should have warned you about this DNA-stealing second-class prick.”
“Shared genetics, such a joy.” Severino rolls his eyes.
“I told you to stay away from my fiancée, Sev,” Rafe snaps.
“She approached me, big brother.” Severino gives him an innocent smile. “And how could I resist the opportunity to get to know my new sister-in-law-in-waiting. A year and a half and you didn’t tell me about her, Rafe.”
“No.”
My heart twinges. That one denial, and it feels sore, because of course he hasn’t told him about me, because this is only for one night.
Severino is unperturbed by Rafe’s brevity. “I was just telling Ella about how Vito, you, and I went to this shitty school as kids.”
“It’s not a shitty school,” Rafe snarls, his fingers tightening on my waist.
