“You are quite a challenge.” Before I could understand what he was implying, he then reached for my tote bag, saying, “Let me carry that for you,per favore.”
“Oh, no, it’s—-” But he had already reached for the tote bag, and I said lamely, “Thanks.”
And then it happened once more, his fingers grazing over my skin, and I went rigid.
Crap.
He was either too hot or I was too sensitive. Either way, it made the thin fabric of my dress feel like it wasn’t there at all.
He slung the tote bag over his shoulder.
Oh.
It made a rather incongruous sight, with myToo-Many-Books-So-Little-Timetote bag ruining his all-Italian macho image.
My lips twitched, and he grimaced, muttering something in Italian.
“What did you say?” I asked uncertainly.
“I look ridiculous, do I not?”
“N-no.” But I had a harder time keeping a straight face.
He let out a mocking sigh. “All I need is a cup of tea, and I could be the poster boy for your festival,si?”
This time, I couldn’t help it, my laughter spilling out as I pictured Marcus Ravelli with a bookish tote bag on his shoulder and a dainty English cup balancing on his tiny finger.
When I was sufficiently in control, I mumbled, “Sorry.”
“Va bene.”
I lifted my gaze to his, intending to apologize more sincerely, but the words were forgotten when I saw him staring at me.
Oh.
I looked away and stared hard at the ground, trying not to fidget at his scrutiny. I reminded myself that I at least looked more presentable now, having swapped yesterday’s PJs for a short-sleeved shirtdress.And you took a shower,I added silently to myself. There was that, too.
So...
Unable to bear the way he kept staring, I finally looked back at him.
His dark eyes gleamed.I know I’m making you nervous,that gaze of his told me,and I like it.
I gulped.Danger. He was definitely the personification of danger.
His lips curved in a sinfully beautiful smile. “You look beautiful today,bambina.”
Riiiiiight.
In my experience, only three types of people told me I looked beautiful.
One: family and friends who meant it because love made them blind.
Two: people who worked for or worked with my family because necessity made them blind.
Three: men who pretended they were blind because they wanted to marry me for money.
But Marcus didn’t fall in any of those categories, and so his words left me stumped.