wanted, she’d known somehow Matt was going to let her down. Or vice versa.
Maya had ignored the warning bells that seemed to go off every step of the way. Those bells had morphed into all-out ringing alarms when Matt proposed. In many ways, he was too much for her. Too outgoing, too talkative, too everything. They’d both known and done their best to pretend not to. She’d also ignored her suspicions that she’d been nothing more to Matt than a convenient way to present himself as a settled and serious career professional rather than the philandering party man he really was. Again, she’d foolishly brushed it all aside.
She looked up to find Vito studying her. “You appear to have drifted off thousands of miles. Back to Boston, perhaps?”
Maya gave a shake of her head. “I’m sorry. Just thinking about some things, is all.”
“I saw.” He leaned back, inhaled. “Did anyone tell you that you have the most transparent face?”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s almost as if your features completely alter as your thoughts do. It’s difficult to explain.”
As far as lines went, that was a new one. If Vito was trying to come on to her, this was the most unusual way she’d ever heard.
“No. I can honestly say that no one has ever told me that before.”
“It’s true. Someone who creates art for a living can see it clearly.”
Yeah, that was definitely not any kind of flirtation on his part. “Well, I think you may be the first real artist I’ve met. No one’s actually commented on my face that I can recall.”
She saw his hand move ever so slightly before he curled his fingers into his palm. For an insane moment, she thought he might have been about to touch her. She imagined him trailing a finger along her jawline, cupping her cheek in his palm. A shiver ran down her spine.
The effect of his gaze was hypnotic. He wasn’t so much looking at her as discovering, exploring her features. The air around them suddenly grew thick. In that moment, Maya had the strangest notion that she somehow knew this man. Had known him forever. She’d seen him in her dreams, heard his voice in her imaginings.
Or maybe she’d actually hit her head on the side of the gondola while toppling over the side.
“I have a confession to make,” he stated. His tone as he spoke the words took her breath away. “I’m afraid you may not like it.”
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