I should care. I should be afraid. But I’m blinded by this feeling, an instinct that heis, in fact, a good man. Beneath the bravado. Beneath the fear of getting close to someone, only to lose them again.
“I’m here now,” I say, catching his elbow. “I’m staying.”
His eyes flash. There’s a fury in them that frightens me. “You should go.”
“No.”
“You don’t have to play at being brave.” His voice is cold. Pure ice.
It sparks anger in me too. “You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m playing at.”
“Tell me then.” He closes the space between us, towering above me, frightening and imposing. But I don’t back down.
What can I say? That I came here as an obligation, but these few short weeks have awoken things in me I didn’t even know existed? Is it just lust, driving me to him, building this strange, ferocious sense of loyalty? Santo is right. He’s my enemy! My father’s enemy.
So, why,whydo I want him so badly?
“When I’m with you, I don’t feel brave,” I say, unable to keep the anger out of my voice, or the sting of tears from my eyes. “When I’m with you, I feel—” I shake my head, face burning. But I’m in too deep. I can’t stop myself now. “Alive.”
He kisses me hard. My back slams against the wall, and I’m already ripping off his belt, fumbling for him. This craving in me is animal and wild and I don’t give a damn about stopping it. I’m in his arms, yanking up my long woolen skirt. I gasp as he seizes my thick stockings. Instead of pulling them down, he rips them straight down the front.
In an instant, he’s inside me. I cry out, but I can feel—a static pulse in the air—that he really isn’t going to be gentle this time. Neither am I.
He thrusts inside me hard, hand tangled in my hair. His breath is hot against my neck, his grunts deep and animal. I arch my back, sinking my fingers into his hard, unyielding shoulders, bouncing my hips against him. My voice is ragged, desperate. I can’t feel shame or self-consciousness. I’m too far gone.
“Fuck, Dani,” he groans, pumping hard, heat pouring off our bodies, tearing into the cold. “Fuck, I’m—”
I gasp as he comes inside of me, a tremor racking through him. It triggers me easily, pleasure licking through my body like wildfire, culminating in a vivid throb between my legs. I buckle into him, gasping for breath, my arms around his neck.
He doesn’t cast me off this time.
“You’re a fool,” he growls, stroking my hair, clutching me against his hot, hard body. “You’re a fool, Dani.”
“Take me home,” I whisper, kissing his neck. “I want you to do that to me again, and I want you to do it right.”
He draws back, looking up into my face.Mine. The word, wild and stupid, lands right on my tongue. I swallow it in time, but I don’t mistake the truth of it. Something in his eyes yields, for the first time since I got here.
Something in Santo Amata surrenders to me, right then. No more games. No more dares. It’s the first taste I’ve gotten of his vulnerability. So I kiss him, hard and determined. I give it right back to him.
Chapter 12
Santo
Something is wrong.
As soon as I pull into the drive, night falling thick and fast around the castle, I sense it.
Gio steps out of the shadows. Dario is with him, the pair of them pale-faced and stiff-shouldered.
Dani sits up, blinking in surprise. “Is everything OK?”
I’d give just about anything for her to fall back into her blushing, soft-smiled silence. But the damage is already done. “Go in and wait for me.”
She nods, biting her lip as she climbs out of the car. She bows her chin politely as she passes the men, Sabine opening the front doors and ushering her inside. Dani casts me a furtive look over her shoulder, just as the doors swing closed. Her face is full of worry.
Worry—for me.
What the fuck did I do to deserve that?
