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“Is that so?” He sounds amused.

“Yes…”

“You seemed pissed off. Then you froze once you saw who was in the room.”

Damn it.

“I was thinking that maybe…”

“Maybe what? That you would wake and find I’d left?” he predicts. “Dolcezza, if this is going to work between us, you need to be open to leaving that in the past. You’re going to have to trust me.”

I draw in a breath, realizing he’s right. “Sorry, it’s just easy to believe the worst.”

“I’m going to change your outlook. I’m going to show you the best is possible.” He delivers a warm cup of coffee to my hands and then kisses my cheek. “Would you like breakfast?”

Thrown by how easily he’s handled the situation, I’m almost bashful nodding my head.

It’s confusing how things between Rafael and I feel so different from other relationships I’ve had. For as long as I’ve been dating, it’s always been a struggle. Any relationship I’ve had involved decoding clues or questioning loyalties. It’s involved men who were emotionally distant and unavailable and indecisive about what they really wanted.

There’s no greater example than Lincoln, who even in marriage, refused to man up and be the partner I needed.

Yet Rafael Calderone seems to be the exception. He’s the opposite, always making it clear how intensely interested in me he is.

He whips out a skillet from one of his cabinets and asks me to grab the eggs from the refrigerator. The next thing I know, we’re making breakfast together, sharing smiles and kisses. We’re engaged in conversation about current events as I sip the amazing coffee he’s made—it must be an Italian thing—and he scrambles us some eggs.

The way his mind works fascinates me.

He speaks about things like the stock market and the economy with relative ease, demonstrating a deep understanding, and proving how he’s become such a juggernaut in the world of business.

I enjoy picking his brain, hearing his opinions on things in the same vein he seems to like doing with me.

He asks me about the stories I’ve reported on. He promises I won’t be restricted on what I want to investigate now that he owns Metro News.

I quirk a curious brow. “Even Il Diavolo and the Belluccis and the organized crime epidemic? Finkle and Baron don’t want any of that touched with a ten foot pole.”

The smirk he casts me is both sexy and enigmatic. “Yes,dolcezza. Investigate the so-called Il Diavolo and those gangsters all you want.”

I don’t like getting my hopes up. I’ve always been more of a pessimist than an optimist, but as I sip my coffee and indulge in breakfast with the man I’ve started dating, I can’t help feeling hopeful.

Maybe this relationship really will be different; maybe Rafael Calderone is truly the man for me.

* * *

Over the next two weeks, Rafael continues to prove he means what he’s said. He has every intention of being the kind of boyfriend every woman dreams of. He’s gone from the Metro News headquarters building, making it clear he’ll be a hands off owner and CEO, and installing an official Chief Operating Officer to run the day-to-day operations.

But he remains intensely interested in my work and all aspects of my life, regularly texting and calling me throughout the day to see how I’m doing. He still sends flowers… to my apartment.

And other gifts.

One morning, coincidentally my day off, I wake to a chauffeur outside my door. I recognize him almost immediately as the same cute, young, dimpled driver we’d had during our stay in Sicily—Gavino. His English has moderately improved over the past year and a half.

He informs me I’ll be going on a shopping spree in Bellevue, the most expensive neighborhood in the city, known for its chic boutiques. At first I’m at a loss for words until my phone rings and it’s Rafael telling me to buy myself as many nice things as I want. All expenses are on him.

“Take your sister with you,” he says. “Get her some things too. Didn’t you say her birthday was coming?”

Jaylalovesthe idea.

“Sissy, you’re dating a billionaire! Are you even surprised?”