Page 48 of ‘I Do’ for Revenge

She walked over to the bed and, as if he sensed her, Vito’s eyes opened. He came up on one arm, hair sexily dishevelled. ‘Flora? Is that you?’ His voice was husky with sleep. Rough.

She stopped by the edge of the bed. She nodded. ‘It’s me. My headache is gone.’

Liar.

She ignored the voice. She needed Vito, even if it was just one more time.

He put out a hand and she took it, like a drowning woman reaching for help. He pulled her onto the bed and she landed on her back, looking up at him. His gaze roved over her face. She realised he looked pale. He said, ‘I was dreaming, that you were gone and I was looking for you and I couldn’t find you and—’

Flora put her hand up on his face, his jaw rough with stubble. ‘Shh, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.’ As she said that she knew she was putting a nail in her own coffin, because she knew she wasn’t going to tell Vito anything for the moment. She was too weak. She wanted him. And she wanted to cling onto this while he wanted her just for a little longer.

Two days later.

Rome glittered under the evening sun, everything bathed in gold. They were in the back of Vito’s car being driven to his apartment from the airport. Flora’s hand was in Vito’s while he took a call on his phone. When he was finished he slid the sleek device into his pocket. He looked at her. ‘I’m sorry about that.’

Flora lifted her shoulder in a little shrug. ‘Don’t be, you’re working.’ Then she asked, ‘The meeting with Massimo Black went well?’

Vito and Black had had a long meeting in London the day before. Vito nodded. He smiled. It made Flora’s heart ache—because she was happy for him and she knew she’d never get to see the long-term results of their partnership and friendship.

‘We’re signing contracts next week. He and Carrie want to take us out to dinner to celebrate. You’ll come with me?’

Vito lifted Flora’s hand and kissed the inside of her palm. Her heart rate doubled. Could she hold out for another week? To ensure that Vito’s future was secured? When every day she was falling deeper and deeper in love? She forced a smile. ‘Of course.’

Vito’s gaze narrowed on her. ‘Are you sure you’re okay? You haven’t seemed yourself since the other night.’

Damn him for noticing. Why did he have to demonstrate an ability to read her when her own family, who had taken her in to care for her, had barely noticed her at all? And she was the niece of this man’s sworn enemy!

She smiled again, this time not forcing it. ‘I’m fine...just a little tired.’

‘I don’t have any engagements this evening. We could...get a takeout?’

Flora sat up straight. ‘I could cook!’ Then she remembered that she’d suggested it before and Vito had nixed the idea. She prepared herself to have him scoff at her suggestion.

But he looked at her with an indulgent expression and his mouth quirked. ‘That would really make you happy?’

Flora nodded. She’d always loved cooking, ever since one of her uncle’s housekeepers had taken her under her wing when she’d been much younger.

Vito arched a brow. ‘I’ll expect more than pasta arrabiata.’

Flora narrowed her eyes on him. For the first time in days she was out of her head and not thinking about the future hurtling towards her. ‘Challenge accepted.’

Vito watched Flora from the doorway of the kitchen, a place he didn’t frequent all that much. He usually ate out, or had a chef cook. So it was a total novelty to see the woman he was currently sleeping with moving around the space with such dextrous ease.

She was wearing cut-off denim shorts. They must be her own. And a plain white shirt. Her hair was tied up into a messy knot on her head. Bare feet. No make-up. Shirt sleeves rolled up. The buttons on her shirt made his fingers itch to slip them free of their holes, exposing her voluptuous breasts to his hungry gaze.

He diverted his gaze up. She was doing something with rice and breadcrumbs. He asked, ‘Where did you learn to cook?’

She glanced at him and back down. ‘One of my uncle’s housekeepers. A woman called Gianna. She was from Sicily. My uncle used to pay her extra to take care of me if they went away.’

‘He didn’t even hire a nanny?’

Flora shook her head. Vito felt the all-too-familiar burn of anger towards that man, but then he recalled Flora’s hand on his arm in the garden of her old family home, her telling him not to waste his energy. It was slightly unsettling to realise that she seemed to have a way of diluting his anger.

Flora popped a cherry tomato into her mouth. Vito felt envious. Even Benji was lying on the ground just looking up at her.

‘You really would be happier here than at a gala function in an evening gown, wouldn’t you?’

She looked at him then and a sense of exposure prickled over his skin. She had been off the last few days but here, now, she seemed like herself again. It was mildly disturbing—for a man who had never been around a lover long enough to notice her moods—to realise that he’d become so attuned to Flora.