“No.” I swallow, my throat feeling raw. My gaze falls on his ropy forearm, thick with muscle and prominent veins. What appears to be the end of some black writing peeks out from beneath his rolled-up sleeve. A tattoo? No, it can’t be. I twist my head to the side, trying to get a better look.
“It’s Latin.” His velvet voice seems to envelop me.
“What does it say?”
“Per fas et nefas.” He looks up. “Loosely translated, it means:Through right or wrong.”
“How fitting,” I mumble.
A slow, wickedly devastating smile, just like the man himself, transforms his lips. My heart skips a beat, then takes off at a gallop. That, right here, is why I’m so pulled toward him, no matter how hard I try to fight it. This duality in him. He orchestrated a man’s death so my mother could live, getting her a new heart that he later threatened to take back. He coerced me into marrying him without the slightest regard for my wishes, and now kneels before me to clean a tiny cut on my foot.
Would I ever figure out the mystery that is Adriano Ruffo?
Would anyone?
“There. I believe you’ll live.” He delicately wipes over the cut one more time. “Make sure you put on that Band-Aid.
“Thank you, Mr. Ruffo,” I rasp.
“Adriano.”
I nod, incapable of doing anything else. “Adriano.”
Calling my husband by his name feels too personal. Too strange. Then again, so is the idea of being married to the man.
“Okay…um…”—I bite my lower lip—“I…uh… I’m gonna go now.”
“Alright.”
I expect him to step aside, to allow me to hop off the island, but he just stands there, in front of me. His eyes glued to my mouth.
Reflexively, I pull my bottom lip between my teeth again. Without shifting his eyes from my mouth, Ruffo reaches out and brushes his thumb over my lower lip. All the oxygen gets sucked out of my lungs. My heartbeat doubles. It skyrockets when he runs the pad of his thumb over my lip again. Not a single coherent thought remains in my head. His proximity is overloading my senses. I find myself leaning closer—
“Boss, I’m on the line with— Oh, I’m sorry.”
“What is it, Brahms?” my husband asks, his thumb still on my bottom lip.
“HQ security is on the line. A former employee broke in and doused himself in gasoline. He’s crying about not being able to support his family, threatening to set himself on fire unless you come and talk to him.”
Blue eyes meet mine. The world seems to stop spinning as I stare back. Hold my breath. Waiting to hear his answer.
Surely, no one could ignore something like this. No one is that coldhearted. Not even my husband.
A strange expression clouds his eyes as he watches me. Almost… Almost like a challenge.
“Let him.” The iciness in his voice makes me shudder. “Make sure he knows I’ll hold his family responsible for whatever damages he causes.”
I rear back, unable to believe his words, forcing his touch to fall away from my lips.
For a long moment, he observes me silently, and I wonder if he’ll change his mind. See reason.
“I’ll have the staff notify you when the food arrives,” Ruffo states in a detached tone instead.
In the next instant, he’s gone from the kitchen.
Why?I silently scream, staring at the back door through which my husband and his minion disappeared.Why are you so cruel?
My hand trembles as I lift it to my mouth, pressing my fingers to the lip he grazed. Confused. Confused by the realization that Iwantedhis touch on me. It was as tempting as my silent guest’s.
