Denial (Careless Whispers #1)(42)

She tilts her head to study me, snickering as if she is amused by a joke I’ve missed. “The salads will be out in a minute,” she says, glancing at Kayden and speaking to him in Italian before hurrying away.

Frowning, I set my cup down, wondering what amused her so. “Look at me,” Kayden says, laughter in his voice, and the very fact that he’s gone from moody to amused has me obeying.

My head turns his direction and he grasps my wrist, pulling me close and leaning into me. “What are you doing?” I ask, as he reaches up and strokes my lips with his thumb, sending my heart into a race.

“Wiping the foam off your lip, as instructed by Marabella.”

Heat rushes to my cheek. “Please tell me it wasn’t a mustache.”

“Just a small one.”

“How embarrassing.”

“The part where I wiped the foam from your lips instead of kissing it away like I wanted to? Or the part where Marabella told me to?”

My eyes go wide. “She told you to kiss me?”

“Yes,” he murmurs, his breath a warm fan on my lips where I want his mouth. “She told me to kiss you.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Hmmm. I was afraid I wouldn’t stop, and that would have been embarrassing.” He smiles. “For you and Marabella.” He releases me, wicked heat in his stare as he drags the folder in front of him. “Let’s see what you remember. Remind me. When’s your birthday?”

I blink, stunned by the sudden shift from warm to cold. “You’re going to give me whiplash to go with my concussion.”

His expression turns somber with his mood. “Yes, well, I don’t have a choice but to give you whiplash. Gallo came by here looking for you while we were at Matteo’s. He’ll be back again, and we need to be ready. So I repeat. When’s your birthday?”

“July twentieth.”

“What year?”

“Nineteen eighty-eight.”

“When did you arrive in Rome?”

“February . . . I’m not sure of the day.” I reach for the folder.

He closes his hand down on it. “The first of February,” he supplies. “Who are your parents?”

“Parents,” I repeat, the word knifing through my heart. “I don’t know.”

“Carrie and Michael Ward. Killed in a car accident a year ago. You inherited a sizable amount of money from them.”

“I don’t mean the fictional ones. I mean my parents. I think they’re dead, but what if they aren’t and they’re worried about me?”

His hand covers mine where it rests on the table, his touch vibrating through me. I stare at his hand, this man who is my self-appointed protector, and yet there is a wall between us I can’t climb. “Then we’ll find them,” he says, drawing my gaze to his. “You have my word, but your safety has to come first, as I’m sure they would want as well. I need you to be ready for Gallo.”

There is sincerity in his voice, and when I search his face, I find understanding that reaches beyond his claiming a role as my protector. The kind of understanding that runs deep into a person’s soul, carved out in heartache and pain. I reach up and cup his cheek, letting his whiskers rasp my fingertips. “What haven’t you told me?”

He curls my hand in his, and he considers me a moment, his expression unreadable. “We are not so unalike,” he begins, and I hang on these words, eager for any tidbit about this man I can garner.

“Your salads have arrived,” Marabella announces, stealing the moment.

Kayden’s expression flashes with what I think is relief, but I cannot be sure. He releases my hand, and I face forward as Marabella sets our plates in front of us. “There’s fresh pepper and Parmesan on top,” she explains. “Let me know if you want more.”

“Thank you, Marabella,” Kayden says, and I quickly chime in by adding, “Yes. Thank you. I don’t actually remember my last real meal.”

“No wonder you’re so skinny,” she chides. “But I like a challenge. Give me a week and I’ll put a few pounds on you.”

“Then I won’t fit all the clothes Kayden just bought me.” My eyes go wide. “Oh, you picked them out, right, Marabella?”

“I did. Did I do well?”

“Very much so. I love everything, especially that bubble bath.” The reminder of me naked and without my towel is out before I can stop it.

“It’s honeysuckle,” she says. “Such a sweet, wonderful scent. There’s perfume to go with it, too. Did you find it?”

“Oh, perfume. No, I didn’t, but it sounds wonderful. I can’t wait to try it.”

“You need familiar things, so I’ll order you more to make sure you don’t run out,” she says, and the motherly way she’s behaving stirs a funny feeling in my chest. She motions to my food. “Eat, sweetie.” She glances between Kayden and me, and frowns. “You both need water. I’ll be right back.” She hurries away again, and my comment about my bath slides right back into the air, inspiring me to feign interest in my salad, when I’m really imagining the moment I lost my towel and his hands landed on my bare skin.

“Did the phone have as many bubbles on it as you did?” Kayden asks.