"You sure of that?"
"What do you mean?"
He glances at my reflection in the mirror, then once more, at the road ahead. "You were interested in Xander, who was the Don’s son. Some part of you must have realized the road you were going down?"
"You mean, realizing that, at some point, I was going to be shot at?" I say in a wry tone. "Not to mention, probably held under house arrest while having most of my freedom taken from me?"
"It’s as good or as bad as you make it."
"Oh, I am not complaining about it. I understand why I need to be guarded at the moment. Doesn’t mean I can’t, on occasion, think of a life outside it as well?"
We continue driving in silence.
"It’s not that I am not grateful for being protected," I finally explain. "I mean, it’s nice of you to have taken the time to drive me to work today."
"Not like I had a choice." He smirks.
I must look stricken because he laughs.
"Not that I mind it. I’d rather be playing chauffeur than working on anything else."
"But surely, you must have a normal life—a family, things you’d rather be doing than be here."
Something flickers across his features. "You’re right," he finally admits. "But since I am not going to be making headway there at the moment—" he raises a shoulder, "I might as well be your chauffeur today."
"Hmm," I lean forward in my seat. "Is it an affair of the heart we are talking about? Are you interested in Cassandra?"
He doesn’t reply.
"Aww, come on. You’ve fallen for someone, haven’t you?"
"That might be too strong a word." His grin widens. "You know we Sovranos don’t believe in love."
"And yet, Michael married Karma. Are you telling me he’s not in love with her?"
"He did kidnap her first," he reminds me. "As did Christian with Aurora. He held her captive until she fell in love and agreed to be his wife."
A shiver runs down my spine. "Is that the Sovrano MO?" I ask lightly. "Take them, then hold them prisoner until they agree to do your bidding?"
"With the kind of background we have, I’d be surprised if the rest of us don’t follow a similar path." He laughs.
"Axel wasn’t brought up with you lot," I retort. "Not that I know much of his background. What are the chances that, in comparison, he had a more normal childhood?"
He raises his gaze to mine in the mirror.
"Yeah," I blow out a breath, "guess he’s as screwed up as the rest of you, huh?"
"Maybe more?"
"Thanks," I slump in my seat, "not that it matters or anything. I mean, it’s not like I am interested in in him."
He chuckles. The smirk is back in full effect on his face. Ugh! Why do all of the brothers have this raw, feral appeal about them. It simply invites a woman to try to tame them.
I narrow my eyes. "Are you laughing at me?"
11
Theresa