Unraveled (Guzzi Duet Book 1)(9)
Cocky, even, with his smirks and fast replies that took Cara off guard.
Confident.
As his brown gaze had turned on her, the rest of the club had ceased to exist to Gian. He talked to her. He looked at her. He interested her.
Cara wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.
She had been so stuck in her own head for four months, that for the first time when she decided to pop back out of it and say hello to the world, it happened to be Gian Guzzi waiting there to greet her.
Gian with his fucking suit.
Gian with his goddamn grins.
Gian looking at only her in a club full of beautiful women.
Cara wouldn’t deny that it was something she liked.
There was something she liked about Gian. She didn’t know what to make of it all.
Cara was not stupid. She recognized the surname Gian sported—Guzzi—and knew exactly what it meant, even if she didn’t know him personally.
She knew enough, like the fact that having that last name meant Gian was no doubt involved in things she avoided. In her efforts to stay away from the mafia, she could blame her success for the reason why she didn’t know anything about Gian.
She didn’t know what to blame for her attraction.
“You’re staring,” Gian said.
Cara’s gaze moved up from the slight scruff on Gian’s throat to the pleased curve of his lips, and then to his eyes. “So are you, apparently.”
His grin only widened. “I’m not trying to hide mine, though.”
“Fair enough.”
“Still can’t interest you in a drink, can I?”
“I try not to drink socially, and only on very special occasions. I do like a good beer or glass of wine, occasionally, but I don’t indulge often.”
Gian lifted a brow high. “Why’s that?”
“Alcoholic parents.”
She usually wouldn’t offer too much information about her history or childhood under the feet of her drunken, neglectful parents, but she found it easy to say to Gian.
Gian took the information in stride, saying, “That’s a good reason, then.”
“I thought so.”
“I could order something … virgin,” Gian suggested.
“Kind of a waste, isn’t it?”
Gian laughed, leaning into the booth and tossing an arm over the back, behind Cara. Normally, she would have moved, seeing the gesture for what it was—a move to get closer to her, nothing more—and that would have shut down any further advances.
Cara didn’t do that.
She rather liked how relaxed and confident Gian looked at her side, his arm resting behind her, and his gaze never leaving her.
“I’m not the only woman in this club, Gian,” Cara said.
“I’m aware.”
“You keep looking at me like I am.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
No. “Unsettling, maybe.”
“Unsettling, or gratifying?” he asked. “Because I’ve come to learn that things we find unsettling can often end up being quite gratifying, too.”
Cara wet her lips, and didn’t miss how Gian’s gaze dropped to watch her do that, either. “How thick are you rolling out the charm right now?”
“Not even a little bit, but I doubt you would believe me on that end.”
“I do find it hard to believe.”
He learned forward, close enough for Cara to get another whiff of whatever spicy cologne he wore, and his grin disappeared. Seriousness clouded his features, and suddenly, the interest she had thought he hadn’t been hiding, bloomed in his eyes. It told her that as much as she thought Gian was showing all his cards, he was keeping a few hidden.
“My charm gets me immediate results, and I use it when that’s what I’m looking for.” Gian’s fingers lightly grazed the bare skin of Cara’s shoulder, and she damn near jumped at the touch, shocked at the jolt of heat that flooded her. “I didn’t have any intentions of leaving with someone when I came into the club tonight, and I still don’t. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to, especially with you, it just wasn’t in my intentions.”
Cara sucked in a quiet breath at his candor. “So, I don’t get the charm, then?”
“Oh, no, you’ve got the charm. And then some. I may have lied a bit there. But I’m still sitting here, and so are you, because at the moment, this seems far more interesting than sending you off with a smile. Although, you are smiling, and I wonder how long it has been since you did that … considering?”
She glanced away, the dull ache of her lingering grief settling deep into her heart again. Whatever smile she had been wearing quickly fled, and Cara felt the weight of her pain come down to sit on her shoulders again.
Gian’s fingers slipped under her chin, and Cara found herself looking back in his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
Cara laughed weakly. “I’m always sad, now.”
“Actually, earlier, you said out of control, if I remember correctly.”
“That, too.”
“I’m sure it feels like that, but trust me when I say, feeling out of control should not leave you sad.”
“No?”
“That’s not what being out of control is, bella. Losing control is … a freedom, something you can’t get with any other experience because it’s one of a kind, Cara. Grief is a weight that you can’t get rid of, not right away. Freedom is weightless.”