“I can. But I won’t.”
“Enzo.”
“Althea.”
I huff at the stubborn ass. “I need to get cleaned up, and we both need to get dressed.”
“I disagree.”
“Enzo.” I huff. I’m about to thump him over the head with my fists when his phone rings, drawing us out of our little bubble.
He reaches over, looks at the screen, slides it open and stands up from the bed with his back to me.
“Yeah.” His head turns in my direction, and he goes from a lazy-smiling, sex-god to the stone-faced killer I’ve come to know in seconds, rushing over to release my hands. “Yeah. How long do we have?” Enzo removes my restraints and mouths for me to “get dressed now.” I don’t know what’s happening, but I do as he tells me.
My bag has been moved into the closet. Enzo must’ve done it last night after I fell asleep. I grab a pair of black yoga pants and a hoodie and toss them onto the floor. As I’m rummagingthrough for a pair of panties and a bra, I find my two slim daggers wrapped up in a pair of long socks.
Liam, you fucking genius.
I don’t waste time getting dressed, tucking my knives into my socks, then sliding my pant legs over them and tying my shoes. When I exit the closet, I walk into a wall, or rather Enzo, who’s built like one.
He’s dressed in black cargos and a black hoodie. His signature uniform, it seems. I squint, curiosity getting the better of me, and ask, “Do you own anything other than black clothes?”
He shrugs. “It makes laundry easier.” He says it so matter-of-factly I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not.
“Shame. Your eyes would look amazing against a charcoal gray or olive green.” His eyes meet mine and he smiles, cupping my cheek in his hand as he plants a soft kiss on my lips.
“If you want to see me in those colors, I’ll wear them. But only for you, little devil.” His phone chimes, breaking the moment again.
“We need to go.”
“Where?”
“We have guests in the main house.” He sounds disgruntled with the information, which makes me even more curious to know who’s here. It can’t be my father, or we wouldn’t have gotten a simple phone call to warn us.
Enzo takes my hand and leads me outside. Stavros is already waiting to follow us up the path to the house. When we reach the back patio, raised voices can be heard from inside the house. Once inside, we find Maurice and Nazario in a verbal standoff.
“What do you mean you had to bring her?” Maurice shouts.
Nazario glances over Maurice to where we are. Enzo gives a curt nod.
“It’s none of your business what she’s doing here. She’s here, and she’s my issue to handle,” Nazario says sternly.
“Does her brother know you brought her here, or are we suddenly in the business of kidnapping brides in this family?” Maurice throws his hands up to the sky, muttering something in Italian to the ceiling.
“Who did you kidnap?” Enzo asks with a hint of amusement in his voice, jumping into the conversation.
“I didn’t kidnap anyone. She’s here of her own free will.Sort of,” Nazario replies. “It doesn’t matter. She’s down at my cottage for now, and she’ll remain there until we leave. My guards and Mauro are with her. Now can we please move on to the reasonI’mhere?”
“Why are you here? I thought you were coming Friday with the others.” Enzo moves into the room, pulling me along beside him. When I try to pull my hand away from his, his grip tightens.
Nazario pinches the bridge of his nose. “We found out who Althea’s brother is.” His eyes connect with mine. My heart clenches in my chest. “I thought it best to bring him here sooner rather than later since we got word that Caspien is currently in route to Dallas to find his daughter.”
“Fuck.”
“He’s here?”
Enzo and I ask at the same time. It’s Enzo’s turn to pinch the bridge of his nose.
