Page 16 of Romeo

He closes his eyes, a flustered look taking over his features. I didn’t think a man like Romeo could be caught off-guard, but it appears I’ve done the impossible.

“If you want,” he adds.

I relax at his tone, finally understanding that he’s trying to soften his usual gruffness for me. That thought has heat rising to my cheeks and trickling down my spine, making me aware of every single one of his movements.

“It’s okay, I won’t be long,” I tell him as he walks around his desk, coming to a stop in front of me. I tilt my head back—way back—to meet his gaze. Sandalwood and spice permeate my senses, and the heat from his closeness warms me all the way down to my core. “Are you always up this early?” I ask, my voice breathless for some reason.

Romeo doesn’t say anything for a moment, his deep brown eyes flitting between mine. He’s trying to decide if I’m worthy of the truth. I hold my breath, begging him to trust me.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he finally answers, his dark gaze never leaving mine.

His words are heavy with exhaustion, and I know he’s telling me the truth. It’s a small win, but I’ll take it.

“Do you have trouble sleeping a lot?”

Romeo shakes his head, and his eyes wander to the part in my robe before darting back up to meet mine. “No,bella,” he finally answers, his voice low and raspy. “In all my years as a made man, I’ve rested easy, despite the bloodshed and horrors I’ve inflicted on this city.”

I watch his lips form each word, and though his confession should startle me, it only draws me closer to him.

“But then you came into my life, and—” He cuts himself off, clearing his throat and taking a step back.

I sway back and forth, his sudden absence leaving me bereft.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” Romeo asks, leaning against his desk.

He crosses his arms over his chest, trying to close himself off from me, but it’s too late. I know his secret now, though I’m not sure what to do with it.

“Couldn’t sleep either,” I answer, squeezing my fingers around the crocheted gift in my hand. Romeo frowns, but I press forward before I lose my courage altogether. “So I made these. For you. Uh… here.”

I shove the two crochet skulls awkwardly into Romeo’s chest, watching as his eyes grow wide in confusion. The two little skulls sit facing each other in the palm of his massive hand. One has a scar over its left eye socket, right where Romeo’s scar is. The other is wearing a crown of red and black roses.

I thought they were cute, and yes, some part of me was fantasizing about the scarred skull and the rose skull being an adorable goth couple representative of us, but obviously, that’s all in my head. Looking at my gift now, I feel small and silly.

Romeo is a mafia king. His world is filled with violence, blood, and power. What is he going to do with two tiny, stupid crochet skulls?

“On second thought,” I rush to say, fumbling to grab the pathetic offering, “I’ll just–”

“They’re mine,” Romeo grunts, closing his hand and yanking it away from me so I can’t reach it. “I’m keeping them forever.”

This man. Even when he’s being ridiculously sweet, he’s still a growly beast.

I can’t hide my smile as Romeo uncurls his hand and studies each skull individually. He traces the scar with his fingertip, and the corner of his lips twitch in an almost-smile. When his eyes finally meet mine once more, they are filled with vulnerability.

“I don’t understand,” he murmurs to himself. “No one has ever given me anything without wanting something in return.”

My heart breaks for him. Romeo is six and a half feet of pure muscle and sin, yet the darkness in his soul evaporates the longer his brown eyes study mine. I sway closer to the enigmatic man, everything in me needing to comfort him, to show him the world isn’t as cruel as he’s experienced.

I rest my hand on his chest, right over his heart, surprised to find it racing. Romeo closes his eyes and tilts his head back, breathing in this moment, this connection between us.

“I just wanted to give you a reason to smile,” I whisper.

A tortured sound rumbles up from his throat, and a fierce, feral glow emanates from his nearly black gaze when he lowers his head.“You’re too good for me,” he rasps. “I’ll ruin you.”

“Or maybe I’m perfect for you,” I counter, unsure where this confidence is coming from. “Maybe we’ll heal each other.”

Romeo tentatively reaches out, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear before trailing his fingertips down my neck. I shudder at the barely there touch, tilting my head up to give him better access. Every time this man touches me, my body cries out for more.

“I tried staying away from you,” he rasps, those dark eyes softening as they follow the tender caresses of his fingertips. “Tried protecting you from myself and my life.”

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