Page 174 of Claimed At First Sight

“If I’d known the conclusion you’d come to,” he says, still tickled, “I would have considered it.”

I point my fork at him. “Aha.”

His smile lingers. “But no. This is a coincidence.”

“Hmm.”

He tilts his head. “You don’t believe me?”

“No.”

His amusement only deepens, as though my complete lack of faith in him is somehow endearing.

In my periphery, I see Shay Donnelly say something to his father, and the uneasy feeling that had finally begun to loosen its grip returns.

My attention shifts to the other Donnelly son. If Father had been determined to marry me into the family, I’d have preferred that option.

Then again…

My gaze returns to Maximo, and my stomach insists on fluttering. Frankly, it seems like a design flaw. It’s as though my body has developed opinions I wasn’t consulted on.

Unfortunately, he catches me staring. The smug bastard.

I break our eye contact and glance out the window again as our plates are cleared.

The view has changed considerably since we arrived. Earlier, I could see the lights from buildings on the opposite side of the river. Now they’re little more than blurred smudges behind a curtain of snow.

Wind drives flakes sideways across the glass.

“It’s definitely snowing harder.”

Maximo’s expression suggests he’s been keeping an eye on the weather.

“Are we going to make it home?”

Leon appears beside our table. Security men don’t generally interrupt dinners unless something has happened. He leans down to murmur something into Maximo’s ear, too quietly for me to hear.

I watch Maximo closely, but there’s no alarm or visible concern, only that familiar look of quiet concentration whenever he’s assessing a problem.

When Leon straightens again, Maximo thanks him with a brief nod.

“State police have closed part of Interstate Ninety,” Maximo says when we’re alone again. “There was a multi-vehicle pileup.”

I turn to the window again. The buildings across the river have almost vanished behind the snow.

“Visibility has deteriorated faster than forecast,” he continues. “Additional road closures are expected.”

I frown, not liking where this is going. “Can we still get back to the estate?”

“We could try, but I have no interest in spending several hours stranded on a highway while Chicago attempts to freeze itself solid.”

Neither do I. Besides, being trapped in the back of a car with Maximo for hours sounds like an excellent way to forget every sensible thought I’ve ever had. God knows, I need to stay away from situations that might tempt me to let him kiss me again.

“So what’s the plan?”

Maximo takes an unhurried sip of his wine before setting the glass aside.

“We’ll stay upstairs in my penthouse. It’s where I used to live before moving into the Marco Estate when I became Don.”