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“Go put some clothes on,” I say.
“I’m wearing clothes.”
“You’re in pajamas.” They’re cute and intimate. And flimsy. I could easily tear them off. I wince at the thought of her nude body, wishing I’d never undressed her the night of her mock wedding. Now I can’t unsee her. I’m a big fan of the way her body curves.
“I’m not doing anything until you tell me what you’re doing in my house.”
“Technically, this house is mine.”
She covers her mouth, and tears start anew. “Where would you have me go?”
I grab the man’s jacket again. “Go get dressed, for starters.” I reach into his pocket and pull out his wallet, flip it open, and start scanning it for anything interesting. A two-dollar bill. I pluck it out and put it on the counter. “I’m keeping this.” When I find nothing else, I walk to the window and open it.
I toss Drago the wallet.
“Where’s the shed?” he asks.
I look over at Cristina.
“In the courtyard by the pool.”
I close the window.
“What’s he need from the shed?” Cristina asks.
“You don’t want to know.” I pick up the untouched piece of pie and lean against the counter. “I’m moving in with you.” I stab the pie. “Technically, if you don’t mind me using the term again, you’re going to be living with me. Rent-free.”
Wide-eyed, she stares. “But you’re supposed to be in Switzerland with your family.”
“I live in Paris.” I’m disappointed she doesn’t remember that. “Since you’re staying in the house with me, rent-free, and you’re an excellent cook and baker…” I pause and swallow the pie. Delicious. “You will feed me and Drago and yourself, of course. I want a meal made by you and only you.”
“We have over two hundred restaurants on the island.”
“I’m selective about who I let feed me.”
Understanding dawns on her face, and Cristina’s eyes widen even more. “You can’t eat at restaurants because you’re paranoid that people are trying to poison you.”
“Peoplearetrying to poison me.”
She’s on a roll now. “You didn’t eat at my wedding, and the only other time you ate was because I ate the sandwiches with you. It was after your entire family had the same meal. Now you saw me taste my pie before eating yours.”
“You should become a spy.”
“Is your mafia hiring?”
I chuckle. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you there is no mafia? They’re just families who stick together and do business with other like-minded people.”
“They?” She’s putting away the rest of the pie. “More likewe.”
I tsk and bring my plate to the sink. Turning, I lean against the counter, hands gripping the sink’s edge. “I’ve been poisoned three times in my life. Once, my heart stopped beating.” I take her hand and press it over my chest. I drum my palm over the top of her hand. “I was very lucky my father was around because he saved my life. Do you know who poisoned me?”
“My guess is Gio,” she says softly.
I shake my head.
Cristina’s eyebrows draw down. “I don’t know, then.”
“It was your father.”
