I make every effort to summon a snort, but it dies before it can make it past my throat. “In your dreams.”
His far too sensual mouth quirks, dragging my attention to the sexy curves.
I jerk my chin, but he holds on, his own eyes flickering between my mouth and my eyes and my chest. Stoking the fire. Disrupting my train of thought. “The wonderful thing about menlike me is that we have a near-perfect record of turning our dreams into reality. You,dragunnida, are proof of that, after all, are you not?”
“No, I’m not,” I deny hotly, but his eyes only mock me. And when his thumb begins to drift back and forth over my skin, I have to scramble harder to retain my focus. To ignore the slow throbbing between my legs. “Let’s get back to the discussion. And tell me straight. You don’t deny that you hid the truth?”
He steps even closer, bringing his warmth and his scent and his towering sexiness with him.
“Lucia,” he says quietly, “your father died because he made a choice to step into a dangerous world while knowing the full consequences. That world does not vanish because you wish it gentler.”
“And you just so happen to command that world,” I say, a part of me wishing, foolishly perhaps, that even now, he would deny it. But I’m not at all surprised by his unequivocal?—
“Yes.”
I lick lips suddenly gone dry and his nostrils flare as he watches my tongue. “And you… you wanted me, so you didn’t care that I might turn out to be collateral?”
His gaze darkens. “You were the one thing in that world that was not.”
Silence thickens.
“We both know this world you talk about… this world you command, is full of people who believe they’re powerful enough to determine who lives and who dies.” I stop when my breath shortens, with fury and grief. Then I swallow it down. “Men like you killed him,” I whisper.
“No,” Giovanni says firmly. “Men who could not control their hunger or their power killed him. I control mine.”
“Except with me,” I say bitterly.
He studies me for a long moment. “Do you remember how we met?” he asks quietly.
I scoff. “How could I forget? You nearly ran me over in Queens with your big fancy car, and then looked offended when I screamed at your driver.”
A ghost of a smile touches his mouth.
“You didn’t scream,” he says. “You threatened to sue him into bankruptcy and insulted his lineage.”
Despite myself, a breath of laughter escapes. “And you,” I mutter, “stood there like I was entertainment.”
“You were,” he agrees. “You still are. The most beautiful spectacle I’ve ever witnessed. I thought you were a fluke of my imagination. That this thing between us would wear off. It hasn’t, has it,dragunnida? We both know it’s for life, don’t we?”
The air shifts.
I start to shake my head, but he continues.
“I ran legitimate businesses, like all the ones you know about. But yes, I’m involved in other businesses too. I won’t apologise for who I am,” Giovanni says then. “And I won’t pretend the blood that stains my world doesn’t exist. I will not promise you a clean life.”
“What will you promise?” I ask.
His thumb drags slowly across my mouth, making my insides shake with the effort it takes not to moan as sensations, hot and very dirty, shoot through me.
“That you will never be powerless in it.”
I shake my head slowly. “You don’t get it,” I whisper. “I didn’t leave because I was afraid of you.”
He watches me closely, sudden tension invading his towering form.
“I left,” I say hoarsely, “because I was terrified of accepting the man exactly like the one who killed my father. And you just admitted you’re just that kind of man.”
The words scrape my throat raw and his eyes darken with displeasure.
