“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Giggling, I shook my head.
His hands left my waist, and I could finally breathe. It was like he put me under a spell with his deep blue eyes and mesmerizing voice. Like, in that moment, he could make me do anything he asked and I’d have to obey.
The way his hands felt on my body and the way he commanded me reminded me of the one person that had that effect on me. That controlled and swayed me however he desired.
Him.
I sighed, pushing the dreadful memory aside. It wasn’t so hard now when Tino—I loved the sound of that on my tongue—reached up for the cabinet right above me, his chest practically in my face. God he smelled so delicious. Even more delicious than his son. What kind of panty-melting colognes did these guys wear?
I could see the letters of his tattoo clearly here.Il lupo perde il pelo ma non il vizio.I couldn’t understand it, though. Must be something in Italian.
As if it had a mind of its own, my finger traced the letters on his hard chest. “What’s that mean?”
Abruptly, he dropped the tea box on the counter and yanked my finger off his chest, holding it in his fist. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry.” My heart thrashed. What the hell was I doing? “I…I’m so sorry. I was just curious.”
“Curious?”
“About the tattoo meaning.” Not about the feeling of his chiseled muscles.
He grunted and let go of my hand. “In English, it’s similar to old habits die hard. Literally, it means the wolf could lose his fur,” his eyes held me captive again, piercing me with its intensity, a warning, “but not his vice.”
“Why…why would you write that on your chest?” I panted.
“Why do you think?”
“A warning.” Just like the one in his eyes for me.
“Exactly.”
The wild danger seeping from him wrapped around me like a dark cloud, taking my breath away, even after he moved away to place the teabag in the mug.
He added two spoons of sugar without asking me. Luckily, it was how I liked it; I wasn’t gonna—couldn’t—object if it wasn’t. Then he poured hot water. “You’re going to be living here for some time. If you wander outside your room, you’ll need to start wearing a bra.”
My face burned with embarrassment, and I folded my arms over my boobs. He freakin’ saw.
“The house isn’t empty. They’re many people here. Adult men who are used to things little girls like you shouldn’t know. I hate to see one of my men lose an eye because you forget to wear a simple piece of undergarment.”
I didn’t know why that made me angry more than wary or disturbed; it wasn’t a figure of speech. A man like him would literally take someone’s eye out.Just for looking at me?“I thought I was safe here. Like nobody can touch me?”
He kept spinning the spoon in the tea. “Absolutely. If anybody ever laid a hand on you or your sister, they’d be dead.”Again, literally.“But I can’t blindfold my men to stop them from seeing what is not theirs to see or the fantasies that might sprout in their heads if they do.” He tossed the spoon in the sink and poured himself a glass of wine.
My lips twisted. “You’ll need to start wearing shirts outside your bedroom, too. There arewomenin the house now, who are not used to having half naked men flaunting their muscles around.”
He almost spat his wine.
I couldn’t believe I’d just said that.
To the man who’d just threatened to take people’s eyes out and kill them. What if he got mad and took my eyes out instead? That would be his solution to myI can’t stop myself from oglingproblem.
“Perdona, signorina. Next time when I think there’s some intruder in my house, I’ll take some time to put a shirt on first before I hurry down to catch them.”
With a pinch to my mouth and arms over my chest, I slid off the counter. Then I extended one arm as far as I could to take the mug without moving any closer. “Thank you for the tea.”
He just sipped his wine, staring daggers at me.
