Chapter Two #2
“I know, I know. You've told me a thousand times," she says, waving her hand dismissively as she watches me as I organize the pieces, each of which I carved with my own hands.
Her eyes are slightly unfocused, but there's determination in them.
"But tonight's different. Tonight, I have a secret weapon. "
"And what's that?"
"Wine courage," she announces proudly, making me laugh.
My initial interest with chess was surface level and was a way for my father and me to bond but I soon realized how much I enjoyed reading and manipulating people.
It’s why I’m the best at what I do. My brothers are such impatient brutes, often demanding results with their fists and it doesn't always work for them. There is a reason why I’m the deal maker of the family, why I get to travel all over the place and close million-dollar arms deals for my family.
And right now, I'm about to close the most important deal of my life.
“This place is only a few blocks from your theatre,” I say, making a move on the board. “You won’t have to use the subway or catch a taxi to rehearsal from here.”
“Really?” she says absently, gnawing her bottom lip with her teeth as she contemplates her move. “The subway is full of weirdos. This one time…oh, I’m gonna move my knight here.”
I shake my head, pointing at the piece she should move. “You won’t have to deal with weirdos if you commute from here.”
“Hmm,” she hums, ignoring my advice and making a terrible move that I don’t correct. Instead, I counter with my own terrible move. “Your place is so nice too.”
“It’s safer and more spacious than the place you share with all those other girls. You could stay here with me and have all the space you need. I have a gym with enough space you can use to practice ballet, too."
“You do?” she whispers, finally lifting those pretty eyes to mine.
“I do.” I make a move after she makes hers. “Think about it. You won’t have to deal with creeps in a crowded subway or be scared every time you have to go home late. It’s a ten-minute walk with plenty of security, and I can always pick you up or send my driver since it's so close."
She bites her lip as she considers my words.
“I can't," she responds as she always does when anyone brings up the subject of helping her move into a better place.
She turned down Matteo, Sofia, and my help when we all offered it after she chose to leave her childhood home, stating she didn't need handouts and wanted to do it on her own.
Sentiments I would admire and respect if I weren't constantly worried for her. “I’ve been saving up, and I think I can afford to move into my own studio apartment in a few months. I just need to be patient until then.”
I listen intently, as I always do, knowing I’ll get my way at the end anyway. It's going to take her forever to save enough for a deposit and rent for a place. Hell, she’ll be lucky to find a shoebox to live in with how brutal and bloody the New York City housing market is.
“Tell you what, how about we make a bet?"
“A bet?”
“If I win this game, you move in with me.”
“Hey, not fair,” she whines, but there’s a spark of competitive fire in her eyes—the same one I see every time we play. “You never lose.”
“There's a first time for everything,” I say with a shrug. “Unless you're afraid you can't beat me?”
Her chin lifts stubbornly. “I’m not afraid. I almost had you last time.”
“Almost doesn't count.”
“Fine. Deal.” She reaches across to shake my hand with exaggerated formality, then immediately makes her opening move with renewed confidence.
Perfect.
I make a deliberately sloppy response, leaving my queen vulnerable. Her eyes widen as she spots it immediately.
“Did you just—” She leans forward, studying the board with sudden intensity. “You made a mistake.”
“Did I?” I ask innocently.
The gleam in her eyes tells me she thinks this is finally her chance.
For the next several moves, I continue to play just poorly enough to keep her confidence high.
She’s more focused now, her wine-induced drowsiness temporarily forgotten as she pursues what she thinks is an inevitable victory.
I’m charmed by how her tongue peeks out when she concentrates, the way she second-guesses herself before each move, then commits with renewed determination.
“I’ve got you now,” she murmurs, capturing one of my rooks.
“So it seems,” I agree, moving my knight into position.
She doesn’t see it coming. Three moves later, her king has nowhere to go.
“Checkmate!”
Her mouth falls open. “Wait—what? How did you—” She leans forward to study the board, tracing back the moves with her finger. “But I had you! I was winning!”
“Were you?” I ask, unable to suppress my grin.
Understanding dawns in her eyes, followed quickly by indignation. “You let me think I was winning. You played badly on purpose!”
“I can’t tell you all my tricks, now can I?”
“That’s cheating!” she protests, but there's no real heat in it. Just exhaustion creeping back in as the adrenaline of the game fades.
She yawns. “Let’s play another game. I’ll win this time for real.”
“Surely, you’re not someone who goes back on their word, are you?” I tease, smiling when those drowsy eyes turn to me. “I didn’t think so. You need rest. Tomorrow, you’re moving in.”
I push back the board and take her hand to help her up before she can argue. She staggers a little before leaning heavily on my side, so I assume walking to the bedroom is out of the question here, too, so I pick her up in a bridal carry again. I’m getting too used to the feel of her in my arms.
She wraps her arms around my neck and presses her face so close to mine, those pretty green eyes watching me and testing the limits of my self-control. It would take so little effort to lean down and press my mouth against hers, kiss her until this need burning in me is sated but I hold back.
“I bet your bed is soft. The one at the apartment is so lumpy and hard,” she says dazedly, pushing up and nuzzling her face into my throat, and I hiss out when her lips brush my Adam’s apple and her soft breath caresses my skin, causing my cock to harden in my pants.
Fuck!
I don’t respond—certain I don’t have the words—as I carry her down the hallway and to the guest bedroom. What I actually want is to take a detour to the master bedroom, but I'm sure she's not ready for that. Not yet.
I lay her down on the bed, but her arms stay locked around my neck with her face still buried in my throat. “Dante,” she whimpers, nuzzling my skin. I hold back a groan when her lips brush against my skin. “Hmm, you smell so good. Have I ever told you that?”
“You have.”
It’s tempting. So fucking tempting to strip off her little dress, but there is no telling what I'll do if I see the soft pink of her pebbled nipples or touch the silky smoothness of her thighs.
I can’t touch her.
And yet, I can't seem to help myself either when her lips move to my jaw, gentle and seeking, until they're a breath away from mine. Her heart hammers hard against mine, her breath coming in short puffs that send blood roaring in my ears.
Dante.
I push into the kiss, pressing my mouth against hers, and Lord above, they’re as soft as I imagined. Softer even and so fucking responsive under mine. I groan when I taste the wine on her lips, and that seems to snap some sense into me.
Fuck, what am I doing?
Gia is clearly not sober and I’ll be damned if our first moment is shared with her in a drunken haze. No, I need her wide awake and sober when I claim her as mine, and I fucking will. Just not tonight.
She whines when I push back and slowly nudge her to lie down on her back. “Don’t move, Gia. I’ll go get you something to change into.”
“But–”
“Not tonight, mia passerotta,” I say, brushing her hair from her face. “When I kiss you. I want you to remember it the next morning.”
She whines again but doesn't put up much of a protest as I walk out of the room. My cock is heavy in my pants, throbbing fiercely as I dig through my closet for a T-shirt. She’s already asleep when I walk back to her room, and I manage to wake her long enough to help her change out of her dress.
We somehow manage to do it without exposing her naked body, albeit with a lot of whining and grumbling.
She slides under the covers and pulls them over her shoulders.
I tuck her in and hightail it out of the room before I can do something crazy like kiss her. Again.
This is just the first of many nights that she’ll sleep in this apartment.
Gia doesn't know it, but I bought this penthouse for her.
So conveniently close to the theatre, so I could be close to her.
Hell, it was her favorite of the apartments she toured with me when I was apartment hunting, and she loved that it came with a stunning view of the Hudson River.
She chose it for us.
No, she doesn’t know that yet. She’ll probably fight me on the move when I bring it up tomorrow, but I always win. Soon, she’ll realize she belongs to me and has from the moment I saw her in that church.
My angel. My little sparrow.
Mia passerotta.
I glance back at the guest room and bite back the need to seek her out. If only to touch her and assure myself that she’s real.
Patience.
Soon, she’ll be living here and sharing my bed. I’ll give her time until she has no choice but to accept that she’s mine. And when that happens, she’ll never sleep anywhere else ever again. But until then, I’ll be patient.
After all, it’s what I’m best known for.