The Hitman's Mark

30. A Good Man

VALENTINA

Val kept her eyes on Matteo's hand in her lap, fervent heat clouding her cheeks as a too-long silence hung in the air.

Why won't you kiss me? Her question still lingered on her tongue, but Val couldn't bring herself to regret it. She'd already been rejected by this man once, and, after everything that had happened, she was convinced that nothing could truly hurt her anymore. If he rejected her again, she'd give him up. She swore it.

"Valentina, look at me," Matteo finally demanded in a low murmur.

Val's heart somersaulted in her chest, but she heeded his command, blinking up at him. The breath caught in her throat when she noticed how close they sat, and her gaze instinctively flickered to his stubble-lined lips. She nearly bridged the distance between their mouths then.

As if he could sense this, he sighed, traces of peppermint fanning her cheek. "I told you once–"

"You just can't," Val finished for him, her grip on his hand tightening as she clutched him nearer. "I know. You can't because you don't want to lie to me." He didn't want to get her hopes up for something more– something that he was incapable of giving. "But don't you understand? You've already told me the truth, and I still want you."

"Val..." Matteo protested, although she sensed his resistance faltering.

"Please," she whispered, leaning an inch closer, captured by his warm brown eyes. "Will you kiss me just this once? Just so I know what it feels like."

Hesitation crossed his face, followed by something like stark hunger. "Fuck, please tell me you've been kissed before."

"Two or three times," she admitted, sucking on her bottom lip. "A boy that I studied with in college. I broke it off with him before my father could receive word about anything..."

She must've been one of the romantically least experienced women in New York, but the Cosa Nostra only valued a girl for her purity. She'd considered herself a rebel by allowing her classmate to steal a quick kiss between the library shelves, but really she'd been terrified by the prospect of sharing more of herself with that boy. With Matteo, she wasn't scared.

Matteo nodded, quiet as he considered her words. She guessed that he'd outright refuse her request if he thought she'd never been kissed before. If only he knew that Val hardly counted the few awkward encounters she'd shared with her classmate. She'd never been truly kissed. Not by any man that knew what he was doing, at least.

He didn't say anything.

Doubt wormed into Val's brain, and her pulse quickened. Had she simply imagined his heated glances? The hunger and possession shadowing his eyes when they shared a moment over the past month?

"Look, if you don't... want me in that way," Val murmured, lowering her gaze once more. "If it's a lack of desire, then you can tell me. I'll be okay." That was a lie. She'd be humiliated, but at least she would know and never make this mistake again.

Matteo ripped his hand away from hers, raising it to capture her chin between his fingers and force her to look back at him again. Val gasped, her eyes widening as his other hand reached to cup her bruised cheekbone, every movement painstakingly tender, as if he feared she'd break with the slightest touch.

"Fuck, Val," he murmured, and something like pain laced the word. "Of course I want you. You're too damn beautiful for your own good. If I was a better man, I'd lie and say I haven't thought of you that way once since you returned from New York. But I'm not a good man. Not even fuckin' close."