Chapter Six
Isobel
“So, you have never felt the need to reach out to him even once?” I asked, staring across the table at Damien in the cozy downtown restaurant. I took a sip of my wine.
Something flickered in his eyes. “Maybe once or twice. Trust me, I tried to make peace with Luciano, but it’s like he’s made up his mind to hate me. So I stopped trying.” He shrugged.
“Does it bother you?” I whispered, reaching for his hand over the table and squeezing it softly.
“No,” his answer was clipped, but I knew it was a lie.
Somehow, I knew he was lying. In their own twisted way, I think they wanted to make peace with each other, but they kept letting their egos get in the way because they didn’t know how to go about it.
“Everything I need is right here.” His dark eyes rested on me unflinchingly.
For a moment, I was certain he heard the loud thudding of my heart against my rib cage like he knew I was hiding something.
It had been a few days since I found out that I was pregnant.
I didn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell him. Since then, I had indulged in a thousand ways to keep him distracted without making him suspicious.
Damien was paranoid. If I gave away too much, he’d know I was hiding something, and he’d pry it out of me.
I couldn’t risk him knowing I was carrying his child. It’d be another way for him to keep me trapped. I didn’t want that for myself anymore.
I had lived on the edge since I found out I was pregnant.
Every shift and mood in his eyes tormented me.
Even when traveling to this restaurant that he recommended we eat at tonight, I kept thinking he’d drive us into the middle of nowhere and threaten to push me over the edge of a cliff if I didn’t tell him what I was hiding.
But it never happened.
The possibility was more haunting than the reality.
I glanced at the bustling night outside.
“Are you okay?” I snapped my head toward him, my heart skipping a beat.
I swallowed thickly. “Uh ... it’s nothing.”
“Tell me, Red,” he insisted.
“It’s silly,” I blushed.
“I’d do anything for you. I don’t care how silly it is.” His expression didn’t shift. I felt guilty for a second, wanting to change my mind. But no matter how hard I thought it through, I had to do the right thing.
“I have always wanted to take a stroll and explore the Sicilian nightlife barefoot.” I bit my lip.
My eyes widened as he rose to his feet. This dark, dangerous man who had come to have all of my heart crouched at my feet. My skin caught fire when he grabbed one of my legs, hiking my dress a bit as he unbuckled the straps of my heels.
He gathered them in one hand, then stretched his free hand forth. I smiled, slipping my hand into his. I allowed him to lead us out of the restaurant.
Although it was winter, the cold seemed bearable tonight. I could feel it breezing across my skin, making my teeth chatter softly, but I endured it. I wanted to maximize the experience that tonight had to offer.
Golden lights lit up the streets, flowerpots flanking each side of the small shops that lined the roads between the tall brick buildings. Vibrant Italian music emanated from a bar nearby, amplifying the energetic ambience of the night.
Damien had my heels clutched in one hand and held my hand with the other while I gathered the hem of my silky dark dress. The chilly sensation that swept through me as my bare foot hit the ground was nothing short of electric.
I wanted to freeze this moment and live in it for as long as I could.
I locked eyes with him and saw that he was already looking at me. There was something about the way he stared at me. It was like everything else didn’t matter—like the only thing he could see.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmured.
I blushed. “Thank—” I squealed as he twirled me around, letting me come crashing into his chest.
“I didn’t know you had a romantic bone in you, Mr. Romano,” I teased, easing into his touch as he wrapped his arm around me.
“There’s so much about me you’ve never allowed yourself to know, Mrs. Romano.” His voice was thick with emotion.
His lips brushed mine. My body burned with a hunger that terrified me, causing me to lean into him. I sighed when he took my lips, fisting his shirt. The way he kissed me was different.
The strokes of his lips against mine were slow and intentional like he wanted to savor this moment—me barefoot in his arms, and him kissing me after a savory dinner at a downtown restaurant in Sicily.
It was epic.
Damien’s phone rang. He hissed through his teeth. He didn’t let me go. He fished his cell from his pocket. His eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at the caller ID.
“What is it?” I asked, worried.
“It’s my father.”
My stomach did a flip, knotting in worry.
“Stay right here, Red. Don’t move.” My body mourned the absence of his touch as he let me go.
He strode away from me, maintaining a distance, but I could hear him muttering a string of cuss words in Italian.
My chest burned, tears rapidly filling my eyes. I stared at his back, feeling as though my heart was splitting itself into two as I began backing away slowly.
This was the right thing.
For me and for my baby.
I spun around, slipping through an alley. Then I flagged down the first cab I saw on the main street.
I looked over my shoulder, and disappointment washed over me when I didn’t see a dark-haired man running after me.
This was the right thing, but why did it hurt so much? Why was my heart crushing itself? Why did my soul feel like it had just departed from a huge chunk of itself?
Tears streamed down my cheeks nonstop as I got into the cab.
I left Damien that night.
I left him stranded on the streets of Sicily, on a call with his father, after a savory dinner at a cozy restaurant and the soul-snatching kiss we shared.
I left him.