Lane tried not to sound so miserable. Weren’t house alarms enough precautionary measures for him? Was he so rich that he needed practically the entire police department living with him?
Oh. So she had heard him right earlier. He had told her about this in the car, and she had assumed that he meant he’d be throwing a party tomorrow. “Isn’t it a b-bit too late?”
“My parties usually start at ten.”
“R-really?”
Her shocked expression was comical, and he welcomed the sight. This was infinitely better than having her look at him like he was an axe murderer about to decapitate her at any moment.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never been to any frat party.”
She shook her head.
“Really.”
“R-really.” And this time she was able to smile, with the way he was looking at her like she had just admitted to him she was a living saint in disguise.
She watched him take out his phone. “I have a call to take.”
Her heart sank. “Right,” she said dully. It had started then, the excuses that would eventually turn into a necessity to kick her out of his home.
His gaze narrowed at her tone. “I’m not lying.”
“I didn’t say you were,” Lane muttered, heartbreak making her voice sharp and sheer disappointment making her fear of him somewhat fade. She knew she was being unfair to Angelo. He didn’t know what was wrong with her. He had every right to think she was a psycho to get rid of.
But—
Couldn’t he be more patient?
Was she that easy to throw away?
“It’s my mother who’s calling.”
Sure it was, she thought.
Angelo expelled his breath in a frustrated hiss.
She found it insulting, like he was making it seem she was too much trouble, and she snapped, “Just take your fake call!”
“I told you—”
“Your phone didn’t even ring, you dishonest—”
“Because it’s on silent mode, you crazy woman!” And in a furious gesture, he showed his phone to her.
The first thing she saw was the caller’s photo and name flashing on the screen.
Madre.
That was… mother in Italian, wasn’t it?
Lane turned red.
Seeing it, he said silkily, “May I take the call now?”
She said in a small voice, “Sorry.” She looked up at him. “And I don’t blame you for thinking I’m an insane woman.” She paused, then said in the saddest tone he had ever heard, “I really am crazy, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that.”
Angelo couldn’t help it.
A laugh escaped him, but he abruptly swallowed the sound back. Fuck, he thought. Now, she’d probably fly in a rage—
But when he looked at her, it was to see her staring at him like he was a knight in shining armor.
What the hell?
Lane was reeling.
Oh, that laugh.
That laugh!
Angelo’s laugh had worked like a wakeup call, shocking Lane back to her senses as it reminded her who Angelo was.
He was a rich man, yes, but more than that—
He was her fallen angel.
And she had been silly to forget that.
He might be rich, and she might be afraid of him now, but she knew suddenly with absolute certainty that the fear would eventually go away and everything would be back to the way it was supposed to be.
Angelo Valencia torturing her, and Lane wanting to be tortured.
“ Tesoro ?” When she looked up at him, he told her solemnly, “I’m starting to think you’re right.”
“Oh?”
“You are crazy.”
A nervous laugh escaped her. “Sorry. I know I made you worry, but I promise, I’m alright now.”
“Perhaps you need a doctor—”
“You mean a shrink, don’t you?” she teased.
He didn’t smile back, only saying seriously, “Anything – anyone – you need, tesoro, you only have to tell me. I want my Lane back, the one who couldn’t stop licking my mouth despite everyone in the diner staring at her.”
Oh.
GOSH.
She couldn’t speak right away, with her heart feeling like it was bursting at the words. Swallowing, she said, “T-that Lane’s 90% back now. I just need more time to
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