Chapter 19

“What’s yours?” I asked because now I was curious, not really about her favorite color, but why she’d chosen it.

“Blue, like the sky and the ocean,” she said, nodding toward the water. “They’re both so big, but I could stare at them endlessly and never tire of it. It’s calming, I guess.” She shrugged then smiled a little awkwardly, like she’d said more than she’d been expecting.

The sky and the ocean? This woman was too innocent for her own good. Next, she was going to tell me she spent her free time picking daisies and chasing rainbows.

“Don’t you think so? That it’s calming, I mean,” she asked, looking up at me with a hopeful glint in her eyes. I wondered if she had any idea that everything from her eyes to her expression to the way she sat gave her away. She wasn’t very good at hiding her emotions.

“No, I don’t find a vast endless sky calming. I find it boring,” I said and then wished I hadn’t when the strange hopeful look in her eyes fizzled out.

But someone needed to burst her bubble. She was never going to fit into my lifestyle the way she was now, and she would never make a good wife to a Don. My mother was sweet and kind, but she was also practical and ruthless when she had to be. She was wise enough to see the world for what it was and not dress it up with rainbows and daisies. Maybe Fallon needed to be shaken up.

“The sky isn’t comforting because everyone looks up at that same blue sky, and that doesn’t put me at ease. Murderers, rapists, corrupt politicians, pedophiles; they all look up at your blue sky, and I find no comfort in that.”

She tilted her head just a little and her brow furrowed. “But by that way of thinking, Mother Teresa looked up at my sky, and so did Gandhi, and Martin Luther King Jr., and every good person who ever lived. There has been just as much greatness looking up at my sky as there has been evil men.” Her hands moved as she talked, and there was a passionate light in her eyes that I could only describe as breathtaking. “I’d rather look at the wonder of something than the misery of it.”

“Even if that leaves you blinded to the filth of our world?” I goaded, though I wasn’t quite sure why except that there was something mesmerizing in the way her eyes lit up, and I wasn’t ready for it to disappear yet.

“I’m not blind. I’m fully aware there is both good and bad in this world, but I’d rather not focus on the negative when there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Not focusing on it doesn’t make it go away. It doesn’t stop bad things from happening.”

The light in her eyes disappeared. She sat back in her seat. Even her shoulders slumped just a little. If I could have taken my words back, I would have, but that pissed me off. I was Dominic Luca; I could say whatever the fuck I wanted to say.

“I know bad things happen,” she said in a voice that seemed smaller now, sadder. “But if I only ever focused on the bad things, they’d swallow me up.”

The sadness in her voice ate at something inside me, and I felt the craziest urge to fix it. To do something to bring back the light in her eyes. But as I stared at the beautiful woman who’d gone back to pushing food across her plate, I couldn’t think of a thing to say, not that it was my goddamn responsibility to make her happy. It wasn’t my fault she was naïve enough to think she could bury her head in the sand and pretend bad things didn’t happen.

Fortunately, our waiter appeared at just the right moment. “Is there anything else I can get for you, Mr.

Luca?”

“Another bottle of wine, please.” Fallon spoke up before I could respond. The waiter glanced at me, and I nodded, sending him on his way.

“It seems we agree on something,” I said when we were alone again. More alcohol certainly couldn’t hurt.

She smiled victoriously, though I wasn’t sure what it was she thought she’d won. “You see? There you go, looking for the good even in our miserable situation.”

I laughed, and she joined in, and it seemed for the moment, a truce settled over us.

She took a bite of her risotto she’d managed to push around so much it was one giant mess in the middle of her plate. She closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh as she slipped the fork out of her mouth, so it must have tasted all right. But damn, the woman had lips that could fill even a monk’s head with dirty fantasies. And I was no monk.

She swallowed and then her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and my cock stirred inside the confines of my pants.

She glanced up and caught me staring, not that I had any intention of looking away. The crackle of sexual energy in the air grew louder. She could hate me all she wanted. She couldn’t deny the chemistry between us was explosive.

The waiter returned, and I motioned for him to leave the bottle on the table without taking my eyes off Fallon. Though she sat perfectly still in her seat, I could feel her squirming beneath my gaze. And I liked it.

“Why are you looking at me like I’m part of the meal?” she asked, cocking what I’m sure she hoped looked like a disapproving eyebrow at me once the waiter had left.

“Am I? Do you want to be eaten, Fallon?” I asked with a wicked grin.

Her eyes widened just a little, then she glanced down at her plate, trying to hide her response, but she wasn’t quick enough. I’d seen it. I’d seen the flare of heat in her eyes, and I’d heard the quiet hitch in her breathing. We might have come from two different worlds, but some languages were universal, and Fallon’s body was speaking plenty. Maybe it was time to take advantage of it before we wandered into even more dangerous territory than favorite colors. God only knew what naïve notions the woman had wrapped up in favorite animals or days of the week.

“Why don’t we take the bottle to go?” I suggested, but I was already getting to my feet. I didn’t really care if the bottle came with us or not.

She looked up at me, and I could see the battle going on in her head by the look in her eyes. And I knew the moment she’d settled it by the way her throat muscles worked as she swallowed hard.