Page 42 of The Broker

She laughs softly. “I didn’t finish asking the question.”

“Whatever you want to do, I’m okay with it.”

“And if I want to find out if the great and powerful Dante Colonna is ticklish. . .”

“Evil.” My lips twitch. “Just the soles of my feet. But that’s not exactly what I had in mind.” I stop talking as she unbuckles my belt and unzips my fly, lifting my hips so she can take off my pants. She tugs them down past my hips. . .

Then she goes still.

Shit. The tattoo.

“Dante,” she whispers, her voice strained. “There’s a tattoo of a sparrow on your hip.” Her finger traces the small line drawing.

This isn’t the conversation I wanted to have right now. Ah well. Too late for that. “Yes, I know.”

“It looks exactly like the tattoo I have on my hip.”

“Mmm.”

“When did you get it done?”

The day after I killed my brother. But that’s another conversation we don’t need right now. Not when I can still taste her on my lips.

I take a deep breath. “I was selfish and self-absorbed. I knew Roberto had a girlfriend. He would call to brag about you. The way he talked about you. . . it should have set off alarm bells, but I wasn’t paying attention. Then he put you in the hospital. You paid the price for my carelessness. The tattoo acts as a reminder of what my priorities should be.”

“When did you get it done, Dante?”

“Ten years ago.”

She sucks in a breath. “Dante, I can’t. . . First you tell me you aren’t going to see Lara again because she’s not me.” She keeps her face averted as she undoes my bonds. “And now this?”

I make a desperate attempt to lighten the tension. “For what it’s worth, after the Viagra delivery, I’m pretty sure Lara doesn’t want to see me again, either.”

“This is too much,” she continues as if I haven’t spoken. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” She undoes my bonds, then grabs her panties and pulls them on with shaking fingers. “This was a mistake. You’re Angelica’s uncle. We don’t even like each other. When this ends in disaster—and it will end in disaster—we’ll still be bound together by her.” She pulls the dress over her shoulders, not bothering to zip up the back. “We shouldn’t have done this.” She finally looks at me. “If Neil asks me out again, I’m going to say yes.”

I watch her get dressed, my heart sinking. She’s wrong about me not liking her. My problem isn’t that I don’t like her. It’s that I like her too much.

But her last words hit a nerve.

“No,” I snap. “We’re not going to do this, you and me. For a change, we’re going to stop pretending.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit. Yes, it’s overwhelming the way I feel about you. You think I wanted to go on a date every month, knowing that none of those women would be enough? You think Ilikedwatching you go to Casanova? That Ienjoyedseeing you with Peron?”

I stare into her eyes. “You told me you panic before every single date, yet you rode my face and came on my tongue. Because youtrustme.” I crowd her against the window with my body. “Tell me that’s worth walking away from.”

She stays silent.

“Exactly. Here’s what we’re going to do, Valentina. We’re not going to run away, either of us. Yes, this is complicated. Yes, it could fail. But I’m not pining in silence anymore; I’m done with that. I want you, and I’m going to fight for you.”

“Let me go, Dante.”

I take a deep breath and step aside. What the hell else am I going to do? Refuse to let her leave my bedroom? And if I do that, what’s next? Beating her because she doesn’t want me?

I’m not Roberto.

I get out of her way and watch her walk out the door.