CHAPTER 15
GEMMA
The morning after Ras and I return, I wake up feeling tired and groggy.
I’d expected a full interrogation from Mamma last night, but she let me go to bed after only taking my temperature and asking if Ras behaved himself around me.
I assured her that he did. Actually, I lied and said he only had to check in on me a few times, even as I shivered at the memory of his hands on my skin.
I think I’m…developing an attraction to him. It’s the only thing that would explain why what happened in his kitchen made my body feel hot all over.
How did I go from hating him to feeling this—whatever this is—in the span of a few feverish days?
He’s still the same cocky Camorrista who stole a kiss from me at Martina’s wedding. I wasn’t attracted to him then, was I?
I bite down on my lip. Even then, I felt something when he kissed me.
I swipe my palm over my brow. There’s really no point in ruminating on my feelings for Ras. I’m an engaged woman, and he is a temporary guest who’ll probably be out of here sooner than later. Plus, my schedule before the wedding is busy. I’ll mostly be out of the house, so I’ll hardly see him.
Now that I’m back in New York, my imminent future is a shadow looming over me. My gaze drifts to the calendar hanging on the wall and the date that’s circled with a red pen. There are five weeks left until I become a married woman.
I go to take a shower and get dressed. Cleo barges into my room while I’m brushing my hair and asks me a million questions about how I’m feeling. I assure her that I’m all better and we head downstairs for breakfast.
As soon as we enter the dining room, I pick up on the weird atmosphere. My parents are already sitting down with Ras. His gaze jumps to me when I walk in, but he quickly slides it back to Papà.
“Are there any cameras in the area?” he asks.
“Not on the streets. We had them taken down years back,” Papà grumbles, taking a sip of his coffee. “The idiot was wearing dark clothing while it was pitch black out.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask as I take my seat.
“There was a car accident,” Mamma says, her expression drawn. “Someone ran over Armando this morning.”
My eyes widen. “What? Is he okay?”
“Four broken ribs, one broken leg, and a concussion.” Papà sneers.
Ouch. “Who was the driver?”
“It was a hit and run.”
I frown. That’s strange. Our neighborhood is as safe as it gets.
Mamma shakes her head. “I’d bet anything it was one of the Nelson boys. One of them has supposedly developed a drug problem.”
“I’m going to look into it,” Papà says, “But in the meantime, Armando is out of commission for at least a few weeks, and the timing couldn’t be worse. I have eight of my guys tied up across the border with the Mexicans this month, and you know it’s our busy season.” He moves his attention to me. “I’m going to have to ask Joe to drive you around.”
Cleo groans. “Joe’s half blind. Didn’t he get his license taken away?”
“He’s fine as long as it’s light out,” Papà says, but Mamma frowns.
“Cleo’s right, Stefano. The last accident he got into was in broad daylight. I don’t want to risk it.”
“You drive Gemma then,” Papà snaps.
Mamma’s eyes narrow on her husband. “Gemma’s schedule conflicts with the things I have going on with Cleo. Her classes are important.”
I take a sip of my coffee. Mamma’s doing everything she can to make Cleo seem eligible despite the whole lack-of-virginity thing.
“We can cancel the classes until Gemma is wed,” Cleo offers helpfully, giving me a meaningful look. “I don’t mind.”
Mamma breaks the shell on her egg. “Of course you don’t mind. Your piano playing is atrocious, Cleo, as are your table manners.”
I glance down at my sister’s plate. She’s gotten flakes of her croissant all over the tablecloth.
“Until you demonstrate at least some semblance of being a lady, you’re not missing a single class. Especially not after you completely embarrassed me in front of Ludovico.”
I make a note to find out about what happened there when Ras clears his throat. “I can drive Gemma. My schedule is flexible while I’m here.”
My eyes snap to him. No way. The last thing I need is to confuse myself more by spending hours alone in a car with him.
I clear my throat. “That’s really not—”
“That’s a generous offer,” Papà interrupts. “But you’re our guest. I can’t put you to work like that.”
“Nonsense,” Ras says. “It would only be a few hours a day. Dem and Vale instructed me to do everything I can to ensure Gemma’s recovery, and if I’m being honest, I think she’s still a bit unwell.”
I glare at him, my eyes communicating that I’m perfectly fine.
“She does look a little pale,” Cleo says.
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.