“Leo, basta,” I told him. Enough. “I’m just making conversation with your . . . friend,” Leo protested with a plastic smile. “What did you say you do when you aren’t traveling? Or are you old enough to work?” A growl worked itself out of my throat, and I dropped my arm around Guinevere to step in front of her, blocking his view. “I said enough. Speak like that to her again, and you will not like the person I become.” “To defend her against me?” he asked in Italian, eyes blown wide with shock. “I’m your brother.”
