Page 107 of Corrado

Well, when he put it that way …

She nodded.

What else could she do?

“I understand.”

“Perfetto.”

Corrado leaned around Ginevra, making her entire body seize when heat shot through her gut at the feeling of his body grazing hers—how?—and he froze, too. She felt the way he stiffened, and a jolt of something passed through her before he sucked in a quick breath, too.

Like he felt that, too.

Electricity, maybe?

A shock.

Ginevra lifted her stare to find he was staring at her again, his hand holding the phone hovering over the charger like he forgot what he was supposed to be doing again. She didn’t know how long the two of them stared at one another like that—a few seconds, or more, but it could have been longer, too.

It felt like forever.

She found heat in his gaze.

Interest.

Something unknown.

And she liked it far too much.

Not that she understood that, either. She didn’t know anything about this man.

“Are you like them?” she dared to ask.

Corrado’s tongue snaked out to wet the edge of his bottom lip. “Like them, how?”

“Mafia. Made.”

“No.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.”

He felt like them, in a way. Dangerous, and dark. Like he held secrets in his eyes, and in his heart. He didn’t feel average, and God knew she had met enough average men over her lifetime to know it.

No, he felt like something else.

“I’m not like them,” he said, “but I am a little worse.”

She hesitated to ask more.

What did that mean?

Corrado seemed to take her hesitation as a chance to break their moment. Whatever in the hell that had been … that touch, the heat, that fucking feeling. She didn’t know what that was, and while she might like it, it also terrified her.

Because she didn’t know him.

And she still didn’t know if she could trust him.

He placed the phone back on the charger. As fast as he was touching her, he was gone.