a woman walk past us, and I try to twist away from him. I try and fail. The jacket is now my prison, leverage he uses to hold me in place, as he murmurs, “Don’t do this.”
“You did this,” I bite out.
Before I know Kace’s intent, he’s backing me up. “What are you doing?”
By the time I finish the question, we’re inside an alcove out of the wind, under a dim light, beside a doorway of some sort. “Trying not to end up in a tabloid tomorrow,” he says. “They were following me today. Let’s go to one of our apartments where it’s warm and private.”
“I don’t care about the cold. I don’t care if you freeze. I don’t care if I freeze.” I shrug out of the jacket and let it fall to the ground.
Kace grabs the jacket and pulls it back around me. “I care,” he says. “I care if you’re cold. I care about everything to do with you, Aria.” His voice is soft velvet and a rough growl all at once.
Emotion wells in my chest. “I know, Kace. I keep telling you that I know. I know you know who I am. I found the file you have of me and my family. I saw the photos of Gio.”
He doesn’t even consider denial. His answer is quick, sure. “Aria Stradivari,” he says. “Yes. I know who you are.”
“You want the formula to make the violins.”
“I want you.”
“You knew who I was.”
“Yes, but not for the reason you think. We met years ago, Aria. I recognized you when you showed up at the table to talk to Mark. I thought you remembered that meeting, but I soon found out that you didn’t.”
“We met? What are you talking about?”
“We were kids. You were eleven, by my present calculations, and I was seventeen. Meeting your father and touring your family factory was one of the biggest thrills of my young life.”
My mind ticks back in time and yes, yes there is a vague memory of a good-looking boy who played the violin. “Why wouldn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Two reasons. I knew your family had disappeared. I knew if you were alive there was a reason you were hiding and using another name. And we were young when we met. I wanted to be sure I was even correct. I had Walker do some digging.”
My heart surges. “Digging is not good, Kace.” My eyes go wide and I halt any reply. “No, wait. You had photos of Gio. Gio was gone when I met you.”
“They’re from your building’s security footage. They’re time and date stamped. I can prove it.”
“Why hack my security system?”
“Gio was older when we met. I knew if I saw pictures of him, I’d confirm it really was both of you.”
“In other words, you already knew he lived with me.”
“Aria—”
“You let me believe everything I told you was fresh and new.”
“It was. It was you telling me.” His hands settle possessively at my waist. “Baby, I didn’t want to scare you off. I damn sure didn’t want you to run or disappear on me.”
“You want the formula,” I accuse.
“I want you,” he repeats.
“I don’t have the formula.”
“I don’t care about the damn formula, Aria.” Exasperation touches his voice.
“How do I know that?”
A low, frustrated sound escapes his lips and he drops the medication bag, and spikes fingers into my hair, a low curse escaping his lips. His eyes meet mine, and the depth of the emotion he then spikes in me steals my breath. Before I can catch it again, he’s breathing for me. His mouth slants over my mouth, his tongue licking a wicked, seductive note against my tongue. And despite my injured hand and my burdened heart, I melt the way I always melt for this man. I melt and I moan, and when he tears his mouth from mine, I am panting.
“That is how you know,” he declares. “We are connected, you and me. We both feel it.”
“All that says is that I want you and that I have the potential to be foolish because of that desire, but I won’t live up to that potential, Kace.”
“How do I know you aren’t after my money?”
I blanch. “Because I’m not. You know I’m not.”
“Can you prove it?”
“You know I’m not,” I repeat.
His hands come down on my shoulders and he pulls back to look at me as he says, “I do know you, but that still requires me trusting you and I’ve had plenty of