And she’s too professional to refuse.
Her gaze flicks to me for a heartbeat.
Flat. Polite. Unforgiving.
“Of course,” she says, and her tone could freeze water. “Mr. Conti.”
Roberto is already halfway to the door with Malcolm, David, and Eleanor, talking about reservations and views and how the chef sources seafood. He’s good. He makes it sound natural.
Caterina gathers her tablet and steps around the table, still smiling like none of thisis engineered.
“Wonderful,” she says. “I’ll catch up with you at lunch.”
She walks to the door, opens it, and slips out.
Then she pauses, just long enough to look back at me.
Her expression isn’t amused now.
It’s command.
Handle it.
The door shuts behind her.
And the soft click of it interrupts the silence like a gunshot.
Chapter Twenty
Elsa
The click of the door echoes in the otherwise quiet room.
For a second, I don’t move. Neither does he. The room feels smaller with only the two of us in it, as if the walls shifted inward when Caterina left.
“This—” My voice comes out even, professional, almost bored. I clear my throat like it’s nothing. “On second thought, I can get the tour next time.”
I don’t wait for an answer. I turn toward the door because leaving is the only thing that makes sense. Because if I stay, something in me is going to crack—anger or memory or the humiliating fact that my body still knows his.
My fingers close around the handle.
“Elsa.”
His voice says my name like it belongs in his mouth. A gentle caress that I can practically feel.
I freeze with my hand on the door, my pulse jumping so hard it stings. I don’t turn around yet. I don’t trust my face if I do.
I swallow once,slowly.
Then I let my hand fall from the handle and stay exactly where I am, caught between the door and the sound of his voice.
“What,” I ask, and I keep my back to him because it’s the only way I can keep my voice level, “do you want, Antonio?”
A beat of silence.
I hear him shift—one soft step on the carpet—then stop again, like he’s thinking better of getting closer.
“Not this,” he says quietly. “Not… ambushing you.”