Born in Blood Collection Volume 1 - Cora Reilly Page 0,47

hadn’t moved from his spot. Why couldn’t he pretend he was something other than my bodyguard?

“Let’s go,” I ordered. If he wanted to act like my bodyguard, I’d treat him that way. Romero pulled a jacket over his shirt to hide his holster, then pushed the elevator button. We didn’t talk during the ride down. This was actually the first time I saw the lobby of the apartment building. It was sleek, black marble, modern art, white high-gloss counter behind which a middle-aged receptionist in a black suit sat. He inclined his head toward Romero before his eyes zoomed in on me with obvious curiosity. “Good day, Mrs. Vitiello,” he said in an overly polite voice. I almost stumbled at hearing him call me that. It was easy to forget I wasn’t a Scuderi anymore. After all, my husband never seemed to be present.

I nodded in acknowledgement, then quickly rushed outside. Heat blasted against my body as I left the air-conditioned building. Summer in the city, nothing to be excited about. The smell of exhaust and garbage seemed to carry through the streets like fog. Romero was a step behind me, and I wondered how he could bear the heat in his outfit.

“I think we need to take a taxi,” I said, as I stepped toward the curb. Romero shook his head, but I’d already raised my arm, and a taxi swerved to the side and stopped beside me.

* * *

Romero hung a few steps back, his alert gaze on my back. It was driving me crazy. People were giving us strange looks. “Can you please walk beside me?” I asked as we walked down Greenwich Street where the restaurant was. “I don’t want people to think you’re guarding me.” He was probably still pissed that I’d made him take a taxi, instead of the black BMW that screamed mafia from afar.

“I’m guarding you.”

I stopped until he fell into step beside me. The outside of the restaurant was surrounded by wildflowers growing in terra-cotta pots, and the inside reminded me of British pubs I’d read about. It seemed as if every single waiter was tattooed, and the tables were set so closely together you could have eaten from your neighbor’s plate. I could see why Gianna would love it.

Romero’s lips twisted in obvious disapproval. It was probably a bodyguard’s nightmare. “Do you have a reservation?” a tall woman with a septum piercing asked.

“No.” Romero narrowed his eyes as if he couldn’t believe someone was actually asking something like that. I loved it. Here I was only Aria. “But it’s just the two of us. And we won’t take long,” I said politely.

The woman looked between Romero and me, then smiled. “You have one hour. You are a cute couple.”

She turned to lead us toward our table, which was why she didn’t see Romero’s expression. “Why didn’t you correct her?” he asked quietly.

“Why should I?”

“Because we aren’t a couple. You are Luca’s.”

“I am. And I’m not.”

Romero didn’t argue again, but I could tell it made him uncomfortable to act like we were anything but bodyguard and his boss’s wife. I ate a salad with the most delicious dressing and enjoyed watching the people around us, while Romero ate a burger and monitored our surroundings. I couldn’t wait to take Gianna here. Sadness filled me at the thought. I had never been so lonely in my life. Only two days into my new life, and I really didn’t know how to survive the many thousands of days that would follow. “So Luca will be home late again tonight?”

“I suppose,” Romero said evasively.

After we’d eaten, I forced Romero to stroll through the neighborhood of the restaurant for a bit longer, but eventually I got frustrated with his stiff posture and obvious discomfort, and agreed to return to the apartment.

* * *

When the taxi pulled up in front of the apartment building, Romero paid the driver and I slipped out of the car. As I approached the glass front, I noticed one of Luca’s cousins sitting inside the lobby. What was she doing here? We hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to each other at the wedding, and I hadn’t gotten the impression that she was interested in friendship. Confused, I stepped into the lobby. Cosima’s eyes snapped to me, and she walked up to me without hesitation. To my surprise, she hugged me, then she pressed something into my hand. “Here. Don’t let Romero or anyone else see it. Now smile.”

I did,