She scoffed, giving him a roll of her eyes. “Lately, he barely speaks to me. He keeps a distance, not that I blame him. Oh, he watches me sure, but so do you. But likes me, Corrado, that’s a stretch.”
Oh, it was way deeper than that.
“You should have figured out by now that nothing with Alessio is simple or obvious. Think about it,” he said, leaning back in the office chair to watch her over the steepling of his fingers, “you hadn’t told Les about the book which means he sought what you read, so he would be aware, and keep up with you. It means he’s thinking of you, Ginny, in his own way.”
Corrado shrugged, adding, “So, he keeps a distance, and he’s quiet. That’s Alessio. He’s working through his own shit, and when he does that, he isolates as much as he can. It’s not about you, even if it is for you.”
He didn’t miss the way her fingers tightened on the edge of the book, or how her throat jumped at his words. She shifted from foot to foot, too, refusing to meet his gaze. All those nerves of hers, he saw it all.
And Corrado hated that.
Out of all the things happening here, he did not want her nervous about this. Not about Alessio, or him, or what might come of it. Some things should be easy and them falling into step together needed to be one of those. There would be more than enough of it that would be hard, surely.
“Come here,” he whispered, tipping his head to the side.
“What?”
Corrado pointed at his side. “Get over here.”
Still tittering in her anxious way, Ginevra closed the book, and came to stand next to Corrado’s chair behind the desk. Staring down at him, he thought she looked sweet, and a little sinful. Expectant, but hesitant.
Exactly as she should, really.
Reaching up, he caught one of her stray waves of hair between his fingertips and twisted the strands around his index finger. “I like you closer, Ginny. You understand that, don’t you?”
Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips when he tugged on the strands of hair, making her lower until she bent over at her middle, and the two of them were at eye level with each other. Here, he only had to lean forward and kiss her.
Still, he held off.
For a moment ...
“Do you?”
“Hmm?”
“Like me closer.”
“More often than I get you, chérie.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth before snapping back up to his eyes. He didn’t miss the way her lower lip trembled like she had something to say, but held it back.
“What is it?” he asked. “Say it, kitten.”
“You still call me that.”
“Because you are, soft but with sharpness. It’s perfect.”
Like her.
Ginevra let out a slow breath and glanced away. “I’m not sure what to do here, Corrado.”
“With what?”
“You, and ... him. I don’t know what to do, or how to act. I didn’t ask for any of this, and it’s hard enough handling one man who has an interest in me, let alone two. It’s confusing and—”
“I get it,” he interjected. “He knows that, too.”
She gave him a look again.
That look.
Annoyed, and amused at the same time.
“What?” he asked.
“It doesn’t bother you at all?”
“I need more to go on, Ginny.”
“To think someone else might want me—to touch me, fuck me? Or I might want to do that to someone else that isn’t you?”
Corrado blinked.
Straight to the point, then.
That’s what she worried about?
God.
That was the last thing he worried about with the three of them. It would probably be the easiest part of it all. Sex was sex, and when that was good, shit, everything else came a hell of a lot easier.
“No, actually,” he said, smiling as he leaned in closer to her, nearly able to kiss her as he spoke, “the idea of that, the person I love, and the one I’m falling in love with might love each other, too ... why would that bother me?”
She blinked.
Still and quiet.
Corrado wasn’t sure if he liked that more than her frankness in this discussion, or not. Quickly, he added, “And it turns me on.”
Ginevra made a soft noise.
Airless, he thought.
And hot.
“A bonus for you, I bet,” she said.
“Or the way it should be.”
“I don’t think this is that easy, Corrado.”
“No, some of us want to make it hard, I suppose.” His gaze dropped to her pretty, pink lips and their natural pout. “I’d like to kiss you.”
He hadn’t touched her.
Gave her space.
Didn’t push.
It stopped now, but he needed her okay, first. Their game had becoming tiring. He’d sacrificed and suffered because of what he’d done, and he took that penance, as Alessio had once said.
He’d gone without.
Waited.
He wanted from afar.
“Do you?” she asked.
“I do.”
Ginevra swallowed audibly, her lips pressing together before she said, “Then, do that, Corrado.”
He didn’t need further permission. The second those words slipped out of her sweet mouth, he closed that inch of space between them. Catching her lips with his own, he reveled in the softness of her mouth against his own. It’d been far too long since he had a taste of this woman, and he soaked in every single second.
The way her lips worked against his, slow but sure. How her tongue struck out first to tease at the seam of his lips, asking for more. The little gasp she gave when he nipped at her with his teeth, and how her tongue slashed with his, not giving him even an inch of control in this battle between them.
He loved it all.
Wanted it all.
Corrado stroked the side of Ginevra’s cheek with the pad of his thumb when he pulled away, although part of him wanted to just stay right there, with her caught up in him and those thoughts of Alessio running through her head.
Because yeah, he knew that’s what was happening.
And he was fine with that.
“My mother called this morning,” he said, holding her gaze strong, “she wants to have lunch with you tomorrow.”
Ginevra’s gaze widened. “Why?”
“Because she found out you were still in the city with me, that Alessio is also here, I imagine she has questions, and she knows better than to ask me. Oh, and because she thought you made quite an impression on her, which means she likes you. Surprise, someone else that thinks you’re amazing.”
“Corrado. Stop it.”
“But it’s not a lie.”
And it wasn’t.
“We Guzzi men try to give our mother what she wants,” he added, “or we have to deal with our father. You’re safe to leave the penthouse, even if you haven’t asked to go further than a shop for clothes. No one knows you’re here, so if you want to do lunch tomorrow—it’s not negotiable, Cara decided, so—then you can do that. Chris promised Ma he would come to pick you up, so you wouldn’t be late because they don’t trust me to let you out of here, apparently.”
Ginevra grinned slyly. “Oh?”
“Seems so.”
He let her go, and Ginevra stood up straight. A happiness lingered in her smile, but he found something else dimming her gaze.