Page 269 of Breaking Rosalind

“You have one, now, and I don’t want you risking your life.”

Still smiling, he peers at me through the corner of my eye. “Why not?”

“You know why, dickhead.” I try to pull my hand away, but his grip tightens.

“No, I don’t.”

He turns to look me full in the face, his eyes burning with more intensity than I can withstand. Now, it’s my turn to lower my lashes.

“I care for you, alright?” I mutter.

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it, pet?”

“Don’t call me pet,” I mumble.

“I’ll continue calling you that until you tell the truth,” he replies.

My jaw tightens. Words of affirmation aren’t my style, since they’re so easily faked. Can’t he tell I want to be with him because I haven’t escaped? He can, which is why he won’t stop prodding. He wants me to say the words.

“Okay, you’re right.”

“About what, pet?” He cups a hand behind his ear.

I bristle. “For fuck’s sake, Cesare.”

“You’re too afraid to admit that you love me because every man in your life has been a disappointment, or worse. I’ve seen you at your best and worst, and I’m still obsessed. You’re everything I never knew I wanted in a woman. You’re deadly, beautiful, strong, and you love with all your heart. I just need to know if there’s space there for me.”

Tears burn my eyes, and I blink them back. I’ve shed enough of them over a man who was nothing but a monster, but Cesare is different. He’s allowed me into his home and heart, followed through on his promises, and laid down his life so I wouldn’t have to sacrifice mine.

Cesare broke through my defenses, making me crave not only his touch but his companionship. I love spending time with him, I love how he brings Miranda and me together. I love the way he makes me feel alive.

Life without Cesare would be bleak, so why can’t I form the words?

“What is it?” he asks. “Is this because I’m Matty’s son?”

My head snaps up, and I meet his frown. “Of course not. Miranda is Matty’s daughter, and I love her more than anything.”

He cocks his head. “So, this is because I’m your daughter’s brother, and you think that makes me your stepson?”

I suppress a shudder. “You’re more like a step-brother.”

“Rosalind,” he says, his voice a low command.

“What?”

“Stop overthinking things and tell me you love me.”

My chest squeezes with emotions that have been building long before our truce. No man has ever made me feel the entire range of emotions. No man has ever awakened so much vulnerability and raw desire in me as Cesare.

There’s a bond between us forged in hate and love and everything in between. A bond steeped in pain yet healed by his compassion. He’s torn back the layers of my soul, gathered my broken pieces, and put them back together again. That’s not something I can encapsulate in words.

“Maybe love is too weak to describe how I feel,” I say, my voice thickening with emotion. “Anyone can say it, even the most callous, soulless creatures. But you awaken parts of me that I thought were dead. You make me feel like I’m home.”

His eyes soften, and the grip on my hand tightens. “That’s love.”

“Is it?” I ask. “Because what I feel for you is bigger than just love.”

His eyes soften. “If you can’t say it, then show me.”