Six

Arabella sat across from me, her fork lazily twirling the last few strands of pasta on her plate. The sunlight filtered through the wide windows, casting a soft glow on her face. She looked…

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, interrupting my musings.

She was right; I was practically gawking at her. I mean, who wouldn’t? She was so freaking beautiful.

I shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing…”

Her eyes narrowed at me. “Are you supposed to be here?” She peered around nervously. “If Marco was to…”

“Marco is not around,” I cut in. “And I’m doing my job. My job is to protect you.”

Her eyelids fluttered,...