Her question was met with a crackling silence that stayed until the maid came and left with the refilled jug, the question still hanging between her and Gio.
She prodded gently again. “Was your relationship genuinely romantic at some point? And then it soured?”
Gio reached for the lighter on the table for his cigar. “No. She was a sister to me. It was never romantic.” There was a little musing of a smile on his face as he tossed back the lighter. “You must be an ardent reader, St. Cloud.”
“What do you mean?”
“The way you assumed the relationship was romantically genuine because I said things had changed. Those sorts of assumptions are normally only found in romance pieces, or from someone who constantly devours them.”
She watched him closely. “Are you—”
He shook his head, cutting her
