Chapter ElevenFabiola's POV I froze. Was...was it that obvious? I swallowed, pulling back before his fingers could settle any further into my hair, though it looked like he wouldn't go any further, thereby putting a step of distance between us that felt nowhere near enough. "I'm not." I looked away"You are." He said it the way he said everything, like a fact he was reporting back to me, and there was something almost amused underneath it. "You've been shaking since I walked in.""Maybe I'm cold.""It's July."I didn't have an answer for that, so I busied myself with the clasp of my earring instead, refusing to look at him. Three years, and he still knew exactly how to unravel me with nothing but a few words and that patient, knowing stare. It was infuriating. It was also, God help me, a little bit familiar in a way I hated to admit."You used to get like this," he said, "before every gala my father dragged us to. Do you remember?""I remember a lot of things, Alessandro."That shu
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