Page 14 of Alessio

There was something about him that Corrado loved—something that made him get out of bed far earlier than he normally would to chase a chance. What was it?

She wondered … how did they fall in love?

“What are you reading?” he asked.

Ginevra broke their staring contest to look down at the book. “A Life Lived in Words by—”

“Anonymous.”

Swallowing hard, she peeked back up to find he stood next to her. She would still use overwhelming to describe this man, and his presence. Imposing fit, too, but she didn’t feel like he was imposing on her or this space she adored so much.

“It’s my book,” Alessio said, “I found it at a used bookstore in Portugal. Figured it was … strange, spine cracked, pages smudged like someone had read the words repeatedly. One of five English books in that store.”

“Maybe someone lost it?”

“Possibly, but I bought it, and the book made its way into this library.”

Ginevra blinked. “It’s yours.”

“I just said that.”

“No, I mean … the library here.”

Alessio raised a single dark brow high, and with his new haircut, she realized how much easier she could see the things he had hid behind shaggy hair.

“Corrado only reads things that are legal, and he needs to sign.”

Ginevra laughed. “That can’t be true.”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“Someone needs to fix that. Did you dog-ear the pages, too?”

The corner of Alessio’s mouth twitched. “And what if I did?”

“That’s a crime.”

“Well, it ain’t your book, girl.”

She narrowed her gaze at him, half-playful and yet still serious. “Or use a fucking bookmark. And you can call me Ginevra, or Ginny. But not girl.”

His lips twitched again.

Then, he smiled.

A full-blown grin.

The first thing to come to her mind?

My God.

Because it was devastating.

Not sardonic, or sly. Not jealous, or angry.

No, just genuine.

And his smile was beautiful.