By Fate I Conquer (Sins of the Fathers #4)(39)

“That’s not how we treat guests,” Amo snarled, sending his brother a scowl.

Marcella’s attentive gaze moved lazily between Amo and me, reminding me of a cat about to pounce on her prey.

His mother blinked then cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Greta. I’m sure our cook can whip up something for you really quick.”

The cook looked a little panicky. Many people found the idea of cooking without animal products daunting and it showed in their creations. Only Kiara had mastered the art of cooking for me. “No cheese? Cream? Eggs? Butter?”

I shook my head, feeling pity for the poor woman. She wasn’t dealing well with being put on the spot like that.

“How about I show you to the kitchen so you can check our cupboards and fridge for something you can eat?” Amo suggested.

“That would be very nice of you,” I said, trying not to sound too eager at the prospect of being alone with Amo.

Amo rose and so did I.

“Not going to happen,” Fabiano said, rising to his feet as well.

“Our son has been brought up to respect women and is capable of controlling himself, unlike the Falcone trio,” Luca said. Aria cleared her throat, her eyes widening in warning.

“Last week’s newspaper showed him respecting women all over the front page,” Fabiano said with a very unsettling smile. I could tell things were quickly going downhill but I wasn’t sure how to stop it. I wasn’t sure what Fabiano was referring to either.

“I didn’t know you kept up with our current affairs.”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?”

Marcella huffed and shoved back her chair, rising to her feet. With her high heels, she towered over me. “I’ll go with Greta.”

Fabiano looked between her and Aria then at me. I gave him a firm smile and he slowly sank back down but he wasn’t happy about it.

“Come on,” Marcella said.

Amo sent Fabiano a very nasty look. “I’ll go into the backyard for a bit. I need to cool down.”

I stifled a smile as Marcella led me out of the dining room, down a corridor toward the back and into a big luxury kitchen.

“So what about olives, ciabatta and truffle oil to dip it in?” she asked, then her lips thinned. “I thought you wanted to cool off.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Amo who came in through a backdoor. He motioned at a maid rolling out dough and she wiped her hands on an apron and dashed out into the backyard. I swallowed as my eyes took him in. I hadn’t dared doing so before.

He wore dark blue cargo pants and a simple gray T-shirt that matched his eyes and hugged his muscles in a very appealing way.

“I guess you’re hungry for something else than olives,” Marcella said, and my gaze darted to her, my skin flushing with heat.

Amo went over to her. “Can you give us a moment and make sure nobody bothers us?”

Marcella gave Amo an exasperated look. “Amo, you want me to keep watch while you’re alone with Greta Falcone?”

People often accentuated my name in that way, as if the other person didn’t know who I was.

“Marci,” he said in a low voice and a look passed between them that I wasn’t privy on.

“This is going to end badly. Very badly.”

“Tell Maddox hi from me when you return to your apartment tonight.”

Marci shook her head and turned to me with a searching look. “I assume you don’t mind if I leave?”

“I don’t,” I whispered.

She shook her head again and walked out, her high heels clicking too loud on the stone.

I didn’t move, suddenly overwhelmed.

Amo crossed the distance between us and cupped my cheeks, his lips coming down on mine without warning again. I tensed, surprised by his vehemence, heat and touch. Amo pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. His thumb brushed over my cheekbone. “I would never hurt you.”

“I know.”

He chuckled and released a deep breath.

“You can kiss me now,” I said.

Amo’s eyes locked on my lips and then he lowered his head again, letting his mouth slide very gently over mine. Electricity seemed to zag through my lips, down my chest into my belly and straight to my sex. My eyes fluttered shut against the too bright light in the kitchen. I wanted my sole focus on Amo, his mouth, his taste and smell. On how perfect his strong big hands felt against my cheeks.

Slowly Amo pulled away again but he stayed close, our breaths mingling. I searched his face for a sign that what we were doing here wasn’t wrong.

“What we’re doing here is wrong, isn’t it?” All my life I’d tried to be kind to others, but I knew my moral compass wasn’t as tuned in as it should be.

Amo smiled darkly. “Do not ask a man like me about right or wrong, Greta. The only thing I can tell you is that nothing has ever felt as right as kissing you.”

I nodded, my breath hitching, because I felt the same way. How could something that felt so right be wrong?

“I swear, Amo, if you deflower another mafia girl, I’m going to throw you off the next bridge.”

We both jumped at Marcella’s angry voice. She had spoken through the door.

Amo grimaced.

“Is that why you have to marry Cressida?”

I tried to imagine Amo being this close with someone else. I wasn’t the jealous type but felt a little nauseous thinking of having to share him.