Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
MARCUS ASKED ME FOR a recommendation, and I decided to skip the usual local favorites and suggested Alfred’s, a family-run bed-and-breakfast located at the edge of town. It also had a rather nice restaurant at the back, and when we arrived, Alfred himself came out to greet me by the door, dressed in his usual, with a black apron tied over his chef’s uniform.
“Hallo, Anneke. Table for two?”
“Hallo, Alfred, and yes, please.”
“Corner table would do?”
“Sure.”
But the septuagenarian didn’t move, only smiling at me expectantly.
I sighed. So much for thinking no one in town would notice that I was having lunch with a guy.
“This is Marcus Ravelli by the way. He’s a friend of my brothers, and I’m just showing him around.” I tried to pull my hand away from Marcus’ as I spoke, but his grip only tightened.
When I turned to him with a frown, his eyes only gleamed in response. You’re not escaping that easily.
Riiiiight. I cleared my throat. “This is Alfred. His family has been running this place for over a hundred years now.”
Marcus shook hands with Alfred. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, mijnheer.”
“Same here,” Alfred answered jovially. “It’s always nice to meet new friends of Anneke. She doesn’t have much of them, you see.”
Thanks, Alfred, I thought with a mental sigh. Way to go at making me sound like a loser.
Alfred led us to our table, asking, “Are you two feeling famished? Our daily specials are always worth a try.”
“Then I’ll have that,” Marcus affirmed.
“Same.”
Alfred grinned. “Excellent.” The old man threw me a rather audacious wink just before leaving, and I could’ve expired on my seat in sheer embarrassment.
When Marcus raised a brow, I muttered, “He thinks we’re dating.”
He laughed. “And you say it like a bad word.”
“It is,” I said morosely. “You don’t know how it is here. News travel really fast, and people tend to exaggerate.” I paused. “Also...”
“What is it?”
“Could you let go of my hand now?” I asked in a small voice.
A grin formed on his lips. “Not a chance, bambina.”
Riiiiiight. This man definitely had a sadistic streak in him.
“Now.” His voice turned brisk and commanding. “Ask me questions.”
I looked at him in shock. “I can’t ask you just like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because...because I’m not like that,” I finished lamely.
Marcus slowly shook his head. “You really are something.”
“I guess so.” If by that he meant boring and incapable of doing anything impolite, fun, and impulsive, then yes, I was something.
And surely that was enough to get him off my back?
I honestly thought it was, but then I heard him sigh. “Ah, bambina.” His fingers tightened on mine once more, making me look up at him. “You are too easy to read—-”
I blinked. That was news to me. Most people I knew thought I was pretty expressionless, actually.
“And for that matter you are wrong, you know.”
I was?
He let go of my hand, but before I could pull completely away from him, Marcus reached for a lock of my hair, and I froze. Were all Italian boys this touchy-feely?
“You asked me why I want you to be my friend, and that is it.”
That? What was that? And I blurted out, “Are you saying you want to be friends with me because I’m boring?”
“No, bambina.” He gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I want to be friends with you because you’re nice. I want to be friends with you because you’re sweet.” He leaned back, his fingers releasing my hair, and his voice took on a brooding tone. “I want to be friends with you because looking at you...is like having a personal reminder that the world isn’t bad.”
I could only stare at him when he finished speaking.
On one hand, those were just about the most beautiful words that had ever been said about me, and that they came from Marcus made them even more special.
But on the other hand—-
“Why would you need that kind of reminder?”
His lips twisted. “Don’t we all?”
I didn’t know what to say. My life was far from perfect, but—-
The food arrived, and the conversation was placed on hold. Alfred served us our starters and left after giving me another wink.
Riiiiight.
Marcus was nice enough to wait for Alfred to disappear back into the kitchen before grinning.
“It’s not funny,” I muttered.
“It is.” Marcus had a taste of his salad. “This is good.”
As I took a sip of water, I realized I was disappointed that the mood had been ruined. I tried to get it back, saying tentatively, “About what you said earlier—-”
“You should start eating.” Marcus’ tone was charming, but something about it didn’t feel right. When he saw me staring at him, he lowered his fork and took mine, asking, “Want me to feed you?”
“What? Ah. No—-” But the forkful of salad was already on its way to my lips. “Thank you,” I mumbled after.