“Sit. Breakfast is ready in a couple of minutes. It’s enough for Romero and you.”
I sat beside Romero on a stool. He was still pointedly looking the other direction. “What’s your problem? I’m not naked,” I said when I couldn’t take it anymore.
Marianna laughed. “The boy is worried Luca finds out he ogled his girl.”
I shook my head, annoyed. If Romero insisted on being a coward, he’d have to eat with closed eyes. I wasn’t putting a bathrobe on because I needed a bodyguard in my own home.
* * *
I was already dozing off when Luca came home that night. While he’d spent his day outside doing God knows what, I was a prisoner in this stupid penthouse. The only people who kept me company were Marianna and Romero, but she’d left after preparing dinner, and Romero wasn’t exactly the most communicative companion. I watched as Luca emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered. He barely acknowledged me. Did he think I cared? When he lay down beside me and extinguished the lights, I said into the darkness, “Can I walk through the city tomorrow?”
“As long as you take Romero with you,” was his short reply.
I swallowed my hurt and frustration. When he’d taken me to his favorite restaurant, I’d thought he’d try to make this marriage work, but it had only been a ploy to get me into bed. And now he punished me with the silent treatment.
But I didn’t need him, never would. I listened to his rhythmic breathing, pretending to be asleep. Shortly before I drifted off to sleep, the mattress shifted as he left the bed. Part of me wanted to stop him, but I remained silent.
I awoke in the middle of the night from a nightmare. Luca’s arm was wrapped around me, my body spooned by his. I could have pulled away, but his closeness felt too good. A part of me still wanted this marriage to work.
* * *
I missed Gianna and Lily so much, it was almost a physical thing.
Romero tried to be invisible, but he was always there. “Do you want to go shopping?”
I almost laughed. Did he think shopping made everything better? Maybe that worked for some people, but definitely not for me. “No, but I’d like to grab something to eat. Gianna sent me an email with a few restaurants she wants to try when she visits. I’d like to go to one of them today.”
Romero looked uncertain for an instant, and I exploded. “I asked Luca for permission a couple of nights ago, so you don’t have to worry. I’m allowed to leave this prison.”
He frowned. “I know. He told me.”
This was ridiculous. I left him standing in the middle of the living area and hurried up the stairs to the bedroom. I quickly changed into a nice summer dress and sandals, then grabbed my bag and sunglasses before heading back down. Romero hadn’t moved from his spot. Why couldn’t he pretend he was something other than my bodyguard?
“Let’s go,” I ordered. If he wanted to act like my bodyguard, I’d treat him that way. Romero pulled a jacket over his shirt to hide his holster, then pushed the elevator button. We didn’t talk during the ride down. This was actually the first time I saw the lobby of the apartment building. It was sleek, black marble, modern art, white high-gloss counter behind which a middle-aged receptionist in a black suit sat. He inclined his head toward Romero before his eyes zoomed in on me with obvious curiosity. “Good day, Mrs. Vitiello,” he said in an overly polite voice. I almost stumbled at hearing him call me that. It was easy to forget I wasn’t a Scuderi anymore. After all, my husband never seemed to be present.
I nodded in acknowledgement, then quickly rushed outside. Heat blasted against my body as I left the air-conditioned building. Summer in the city, nothing to be excited about. The smell of exhaust and garbage seemed to carry through the streets like fog. Romero was a step behind me, and I wondered how he could bear the heat in his outfit.
“I think we need to take a taxi,” I said, as I stepped toward the curb. Romero shook his head, but I’d already raised my arm, and a taxi swerved to the side and stopped beside me.
* * *
Romero hung a few steps back, his alert gaze on my back. It was driving me crazy. People were giving us strange looks. “Can you please walk beside me?” I asked as we walked down Greenwich Street where the restaurant was. “I don’t want people to think you’re guarding me.” He was probably still pissed that I’d made him take a taxi, instead of the black BMW that screamed mafia from afar.
“I’m guarding you.”
I stopped until he fell into step beside me. The outside of the restaurant was surrounded by wildflowers growing in terra-cotta pots, and the inside reminded me of British pubs I’d read about. It seemed as if every single waiter was tattooed, and the tables were set so closely together you could have eaten from your neighbor’s plate. I could see why Gianna would love it.
Romero’s lips twisted in obvious disapproval. It was probably a bodyguard’s nightmare. “Do you have a reservation?” a tall woman with a septum piercing asked.
“No.” Romero narrowed his eyes as if he couldn’t believe someone was actually asking something like that. I loved it. Here I was only Aria. “But it’s just the two of us. And we won’t take long,” I said politely.
The woman looked between Romero and me, then smiled. “You have one hour. You are a cute couple.”
She turned to lead us toward our table, which was why she didn’t see Romero’s expression. “Why didn’t you correct her?” he asked quietly.
“Why should I?”
“Because we aren’t a couple. You are Luca’s.”
“I am. And I’m not.”
Romero didn’t argue again, but I could tell it made him uncomfortable to act
