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“What about you?” I ask, steering the conversation away from sensitive subjects. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Nope, but I had one hell of an imaginary friend.” She winks, and I appreciate her effort to keep things light. She’s good at reading people. I imagine she’s an excellent therapist.

We talk until lunch, which I’m thankfully able to eat without issue. As soon as we’re done, Elio stands and asks me to come with him. Evie gives me a reassuring smile before I follow my surly captor up a flight of stairs to another more intimate gathering room with a round wood poker table on one side and conversational seating on the other.

Elio doesn’t sit, however, so I don’t either. We’re the only ones in the room, which somehow amplifies the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears. I watch as Elio takes a deck of cards from the game table and begins to absently shuffle them in his hands.

“How did it happen?” he asks quietly, eyes lifting briefly to mine.

“How did what happen?”

“The accident.”

My guard is instantly up. He wants to know more about how Ario died. That’s the last thing I want to talk about, but he must have overheard me talking to Evie and wants to know more.

I shake my head. “You already know tons about me, but I don’t know anything about who you’ve become.”

“What do you want to know?” he asks curiously, his hands separating a portion of cards from the main deck, then smoothly reinserting them in a scattered fashion. It’s an effortless motion he must perform endlessly on repeat. Separate, then shuffle back together, only to repeat over and over without any thought to the task.

I set aside my observation and focus on answering his question. If he’s truly willing to give me insight into his past, I don’t want to waste the opportunity.

“How did you get the scar?” I finally ask softly, hoping he doesn’t shut down.

“The man who kidnapped me slit my throat.” He studies me for a reaction. I try not to give one but can’t help the uncomfortable swallow that comes from imagining the horror of that experience.

“But you didn’t die?” I ask, needing to know more.

“I’m told that I did but was brought back.”

“Were you taken to a hospital?”

“That’s three questions.” A mischievous glint brightens his amber eyes. “I think it’s my turn.”

I didn’t realize this was a tit-for-tat situation, but okay. If it means getting answers to my burning curiosity, I’ll play. “What’s your question?”

“Are all your scars from the accident?”

Not what I expected, nor am I sure why he’s asking.

“Yes.” It’s technically true. “Who saved your life?”

“A man known as the Greek. Why haven’t you been with a man?” he counters swiftly.

My head turns slowly from side to side in refusal.

Elio raises a brow, tosses the cards back on the table, and begins to stalk closer. “That’s not how this works, pet. You have to give me something.”

I don’t have to do anything, but the challenge radiating from him has me wanting to keep this Q&A session going. “Like what?”

He studies me, and the second he decides on his stipulation, wicked satisfaction teases the corners of his lips. “A kiss.”

Well played.

I wasn’t expecting him to ask for something physical, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let my shock serve as his amusement.

“That’s easy enough,” I offer nonchalantly before rising on my toes and pressing a quick peck to his cheek. More like his jaw. This guy is seriously tall. Either way, the kiss satisfies his terms as far as I’m concerned.

Elio clearly disagrees.