To All a Good Night Page 26
But she managed to stop gaping and move her gaze up to his face, which was also a study in shadows and beauty.
Clearing her throat, she managed a smile. “I keep odd hours too.”
He lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Instead he leaned on the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement caused his muscles to come to life. Erika’s fingers twitched with the longing to move her hand over them like she would the smooth clay of one of her sculptures.
“I’m guessing you didn’t come up here to discuss our sleep habits.”
Erika’s eyes returned to his, as did the sense of dread she’d been experiencing at the bottom of the stairs. Cool disdain—that was what she was getting. Crap.
“No.” She offered him another small smile. “No, I came up to see how your head is.” She reached forward to brush aside his hair to see the wound, but he caught her wrist, stopping her. His fingers cool, curled a tad too tightly on her skin.
“It’s fine.”
Erika nodded at the clipped response that didn’t invite further questioning. Yet she didn’t move, nor did he release her. Although his hold loosened and she could have sworn his thumb slid on the outside of her wrist like the briefest, faintest caress.
Crazy. She made a small noise in the back of her throat at the silly notion. The soft sound seemed to make Vittorio aware that he still held her, because he promptly dropped his fingers away from her.
Erika fought the urge to touch the place where his hand had been. Instead she stepped back from him. She should leave.
“Okay,” she said feeling disoriented. “I just wanted to check.” Check Philippe’s theory, but as before she seemed to be the only one affected by Vittorio’s nearness. Vittorio’s expression was still remote, hardly filled with overwhelming attraction.
“I guess I should go, then,” she added. She took another step backwards, then remembered the plate of treats she still held.
“Oh, and I made you these,” she said, shoving the plate toward him. “You know, as a peace offering.”
He stared down at the plastic wrap—covered squares as if he expected them to crawl off the plate and attack, perhaps sticking in his beautiful long hair.
Her fingers held the plate, tightening with the desire to touch the silky-looking locks. Was she utterly mad? This man was not interested in her—in the least—and she was fantasizing about touching his hair.
“I—” He still regarded the cookies with consternation. “I don’t eat—sweets.”
“Oh.” She pulled the plate away from him. “Okay. Well, I did just want to say I’m sorry.”
He nodded, saying nothing.
“About last night, I mean,” she said, watching his expression.
A muscle in his jaw worked as if he was clenching his teeth. “As you’ve already said,” he stated.
Erika nodded, not sure what else to say. It certainly didn’t appear he was any more willing to forgive her tonight than he was last night.
Suddenly that uncharacteristic feeling of irritation swelled inside her again. Why did he dislike her so much? Okay, she had hit him with a cell phone, but it had been in an unusual circumstance. And she did feel truly awful about it.
But instead of just accepting that he wasn’t going to warm up to her, she heard herself saying, “I know this is going to sound weird, but I’m actually trying to figure out if you are someone that my psychic told me I’d meet.”
Vittorio straightened, and the remote look in his eyes shifted, but it wasn’t to an expression she liked any better. His eyes widened with amused disbelief.
“Your psychic?”
Erika had had this reaction before. More than once. And she immediately regretted her honesty.
“I’m sure this sounds a little strange to you.”
He tilted his head. “What did this psychic say?”
She hesitated. Was he genuinely curious, or did he intend to mock her?
“He’s been predicting that I would meet someone who at least physically fits your description.”
He nodded, his gaze leaving hers as if he was considering the idea. She still couldn’t quite decipher what he might be thinking.
“And what else did this psychic say?”
Erika again debated what to tell him. But the lopsided, not altogether kind, slant of his lips made her stop. He just thought she was nuts. And he didn’t appear to like her any better for her nuttiness.
“Forget it.” She raised a hand in a gesture of defeat. “I just wanted to be sure your head was all right.”
She started to leave, when his voice stopped her. “Thanks.”
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