“Will you let me drive your car sometime?” she asked instead. Marco was right. No reason to act demure around him. He knew everything about her, every detail and dirty secret. It almost seemed unfair she knew next to nothing about him.
“For a price, perhaps,” he said. They were at a red stoplight. Marco flashed her a predatory grin that made her heart race a little faster. “I don’t like to share my possessions.”
He looked her up and down with those words. Her pulse spiked. From another man, that kind of stare would’ve been unwelcome, but from him? It felt strangely right. Okay. Jesus. This man had a way of messing with her mind. Marco was far more dangerous than she imagined, but she had been the one who forced herself into his cage. She ran to him at the first sign of trouble. Marco could be toying with her, but something about his gaze told her different.
They said nothing else as they reached their dinner destination. Paolo’s. She recognized the Italian restaurant. It was one of the first legit businesses the Severin Familia owned.
“I used to do my homework here while waiting for my dad,” she said as he found a parking spot. Marco helped her out.
“I know.”
“You do?”
Marco nodded. “You probably know we conduct business meetings upstairs. I sometimes snuck glances at you.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. Marco had been watching her for that long? He gently pushed her hair to one side, fingers brushing against the nape of her nape. Marco gave it a squeeze, his touch warm.
“Let’s head inside. It’s cold out tonight,” he said. They didn’t need a reservation. The woman in charge of reception quickly led them to a private booth, the best one in the house from the looks of it.
“The place’s changed since I’ve last been here,” Lila remarked, looking around the restaurant. Paolo’s still looked homey, dim, and intimate, but she could tell recent renovations have been made.
“Paolo’s was opened by my great-grandfather. It’s still an important place for the Familia,” Marco said. “Order whatever you want.”
“I don’t know much about wines. Would you select one for us?”
Marco nodded. A waitress took their orders. It had been a while since she had a decent meal, so she ordered to her heart’s content. Her stomach rumbled when their sides and her seafood risotto arrived. She dug in as Marco poured them wine.
“I love a woman who can eat,” he remarked.
She blushed, setting her fork down. “Sorry. Lately, my meals have been Chinese take-outs or half-off prepared meals at the grocer. Since I work there, I also get an additional ten percent off.”
“I don’t like the neighborhood you’re currently staying at. That store you work at has been robbed three times this year alone.” Marco took a sip of his wine.
His tone was matter-of-fact, which only infuriated her for no apparent reason. He was making judgments now? Not the best first-date impression, in her opinion.
“I’ve grown up in that apartment and it reminds me of my dad. I’ve no intention of moving out and my job’s fine for now.”
“We’ll talk about this another time.”
“Wait a second. What do you mean by that? You don’t have a say in where I chose to live or work,” she blurted.
“We have an arrangement, do we not? You wanted my protection,” Marco stated. “And I’ve assessed your situation.”
Frustration welled up inside her. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.” She blurted out the words unthinkingly, about to rise to her feet. Who the hell did he think he was?
He closed his fingers over her wrist and his touch burned like a brand. Those piercing blue eyes pinned her down, saw right through her bullshit.
“I know you’re strong, Lila,” he said quietly. “You’re hard-headed, independent. All your life you’ve tried to separate yourself from your dad, from the Familia. You’ve done a good job, but you’re way over your head right now. Please. Sit back down.”
She sat, stunned. One moment, he could be a possessive bastard and the next, completely charming. He was one hell of a walking contradiction. His words did get to her. Lila had done all she could to get Crane off her back. She’d tried to build a life for herself after her father’s death, tried too hard, perhaps. She was exhausted. This wasn’t even her mess, but John’s.
Any other sane woman would’ve walked away from a man as fucked-up and slick as Marco Severin, but she wasn’t just any woman.Stay, a voice inside her whispered. She remembered the sweet smile of the boy she kissed at Christmas Eve and the searing kiss they shared earlier. How her body reacted to him like she was made for him.
“I didn’t understand what asking for your help meant,” she told him.
“No, but you will soon. Finish your dinner and let’s talk.”
She picked up her fork again, wary of him.