Page 80 of Dark Breaker

Fabio is there, watching the sunrise.

He glances at me. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey,” I tell him. “Sleep well?”

He nods. “Better than I have in years. Come on.” He holds out a hand to me.

I go to him and he wraps his arm around me and holds me close. I snuggle against him, relishing in his musky smell and warmth. I gaze out across the Palermo skyline, toward the rising sun.

“The sky’s so colorful,” I tell him.

He nods, saying nothing.

“What are we going to do?” I ask him.

“What do you mean?” he replies.

I don’t answer. I can’t. I don’t want to ruin the moment.

“Maybe we should have a honeymoon after all,” he says.

“I thought you were going to buy tickets and surprise me?” I tell him. “Unless you’re too busy working…”

He chuckles, and I feel that pleasant, deep rumbling in his chest.

“I can barely work,” he says. “Not when I think about you all day.”

“Is that what you do?” I ask him. I feel a shred of hope.

He sighs. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”

I look up at him. “It’s not that hard. Either you think about me all day, or you don’t.”

“I think about fucking you,” he says. “I think about using your body, having my way with you.”

“Ever the romantic,” I say sourly.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know you want more. But I can’t give you what you want. I’m unlovable. I can’t love. Can’t be loved.”

“What if I like you?” I ask softly.

He finally glances down to meet my gaze. “You sure you’re not saying that because you want to protect your brothers? That’s why we formed this alliance in the first place. Why we got married.”

“Of course I want to protect them,” I tell him. “I can’t lie to you and claim otherwise. But I also can’t claim that I haven’t developed feelings.”

He seems uncertain for a moment. “Are you sure you’re not confusing lust for something else?”

“I… no, you’re right,” I tell him. “It could be lust. It probably is.”

He nods knowingly. “See. Give it a few days. You’ll see, you don’t like me. I’ll do something else to offend you. Or you’ll offend me. Then when we’ll fight, go on a date, and have make-up sex all over again.”

“What if I get pregnant?” I ask.

“I expect you to,” he replies. “It won’t change anything. Just because you’re the mother of my child, doesn’t mean we’ll love each other.”

“I think you’re afraid of loving someone,” I tell him. “Why? Why are you afraid? Because love means you’re vulnerable?”

He considers for a moment. “My father… when he lost my mother, it almost destroyed him. I don’t want that to happen to me. I don’t want my world to crumble when I lose you.”