When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)(46)

My irritation spikes. Does Cleo think she’s helping me? Probably. She has no idea what happened between me and Ras. She smiles and pops a piece of croissant into her mouth.

I try again. “Papà—”

“Are you going to be comfortable driving in the city?” he asks Ras, ignoring me.

Ras nods. “Piece of cake. Trust me, I’ll keep her safe.”

“It’s settled then.” Papà gives Ras a close-lipped smile before turning to me. The look on his face tells me his decision is final. “Give your schedule to Ras, Gemma.”

Frustration simmers inside me. Is my opinion completely irrelevant? It’s me he’ll be driving. But I know what’ll happen if I start arguing at the dinner table. Papà will shut me down, and I’ll still be stuck with Ras as my driver.

I clench my fists under the tablecloth. “Tomorrow, I have a private shopping appointment. It’ll probably be super boring and take a long time.”

Ras’s gaze sparks. “Perfect. I need to stock up on clothes. Didn’t pack for an arctic climate.”

Hmm. How convenient.

“What time is the appointment?” he asks.

“Noon. Manhattan.”

Ras reaches inside a bowl on the table and takes a moment to pick out a cup of yogurt.

When he finally decides on one, heat travels down my chest in a slow wave.

Peach.

He glances at me from beneath his brows as he tears open the cup, his expression pure innocence if it weren’t for the flash of wickedness inside his eyes. “We’ll leave at eleven to beat the traffic.”





The next day, I step through the front door at eleven sharp.

Ras is already waiting inside the car, and when he sees me, he hops out to open the passenger door.

I clench my teeth. A part of me hoped he’d be late so that I could complain to Papà about his punctuality and insist on getting Blind Joe as my driver.

Yes, I’d rather risk an automotive accident than spend the next few weeks in Ras’s orbit.

I’m scared. Scared I’ll do something stupid around him.

Scared that my attraction might develop into a full-grown crush and make the next five weeks even harder than they are already going to be.

No matter how hard I try to tap into my previous dislike of Ras, I can’t seem to do it.

Not after he spent days nursing me back to health.

And not after what happened in his kitchen.

Last night, I had a dream about him. We were on a bed, and I was feverish, my back pressed against his front. He dragged a cool washcloth over my neck and then dipped it down over my chest. It was at that moment in the dream that I realized I wasn’t wearing any clothes. The washcloth slid between my breasts, over my abdomen, and down between my legs where everything felt so sensitive that I couldn’t help but moan. Lips pressed to the side of my neck, and a familiar voice asked. “Are you wet for me, Peaches?”

I woke up then, aroused and sweaty and in desperate need of a release.

I’ve never lusted after a man like that before, and there’s a flicker of guilt at the back of my mind. After all, I’m engaged to marry someone else in just a few weeks. Even though I don’t love Rafaele, it still feels wrong to be having sex dreams about another man.

I swallow and glance over at Ras. His long hair is neatly pulled back at his nape in a loose man-bun, and he’s trimmed his beard. His tanned hands flex on the wheel as he takes us out the neighborhood, following the GPS. One of the rings he’s wearing is the one I tried on in his bedroom. The realization makes something hum beneath my skin.

“Ras, what are you really doing here?” I ask, unable to keep an exasperated note from slipping into my voice. “Whatever it is can’t be that important if you’re willing to spend all this time chauffeuring me around.”

“Did your papa tell you to ask me that?”

“No.” I frown. “Why would he?”

“He didn’t seem to believe me when I told him I’m here on a diplomatic mission to get to know our American partners a little better.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that when Damiano commits to doing a deal as big as what we’re considering doing with the Messero and Garzolo clans, we need to be sure the two of them can deliver what they promise.”

The line sounds rehearsed, but the gist of it makes sense, I guess. It doesn’t sound so unreasonable, although I can see why Papà wouldn’t like it.

If that’s what Ras is here for, why is he so eager to volunteer to drive me around?

Something is off with all of this.

I have a feeling it has something to do with the bruise on my face. Vale still hasn’t brought it up, and I know my sister. She wouldn’t let something like that go.

Is Ras here to also keep an eye on me?

I guess I should be grateful if Vale did ask him to do that. Papà isn’t stupid enough to hit me while Ras is staying at our house.

I’m safe from him for the time being.

But there is a new threat. The one posed by the man in the driver’s seat.

Maybe I need to remind myself of all his flaws so that I can nip this crush in the bud.

He’s arrogant and shameless.

He’s unable to stand the cold. As in, he’s a total baby about it. A smile tugs at my lips at how miserable he looked last night.