“You made a deal this morning,” I reminded her.
Her entire body stiffened. The softness vanished from her face, replaced by immediate suspicion. “Leo…”
“You wanted the doctor canceled,” I kept going. A flush crept slowly up her throat. “And I told you what it would cost.”
Her fork lowered onto the plate with a soft clink. The tension shifted. Hotter now. Sharper. Chiara swallowed hard enough that I noticed it from across the counter. “You weren’t serious.”
A low laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
“Bellissima,” I murmured, leaning back in my chair slowly. “I’m always serious.”
Her breathing changed. Subtle. Faster. Fuck, I noticed every tiny thing she did now.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” she whispered.
“I didn’t say sleeping with me.” My eyes dragged deliberately over her body again. “I said sleeping in my bed.”
That seemed to somehow make it worse. Chiara pushed back from the island too quickly, nearly stumbling over her chair before catching herself. My attention snapped to her ankle.
Still hurt. Still vulnerable. Still mine to protect whether she liked it or not.
“You’re enjoying this,” she accused softly.
“Very much.” Her glare should’ve intimidated me. Instead it made me hard. I watched her hug my shirt tighter around herself, probably not realizing how fucking tempting that looked. Bare legs. Flushed cheeks. Blonde hair falling loose around her shoulders now. Painfully beautiful.
“You’re evil,” she muttered.
“Probably.”
“And arrogant,” she bit out.
“Oh, most definitely.” I smirked.
She opened her mouth again, probably preparing another threat, but I stood before she could say it. The sudden movement made her freeze. I rounded the kitchen island slowly, watching her pulse jump visibly beneath the delicate skin of her throat with every step I took toward her.
One. Two. Three.
By the time I stopped in front of her, Chiara was barely breathing. The heat between us wrapped thickly through the kitchen. I reached up slowly and tucked one loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She shivered. That tiny reaction nearly destroyed my self-control completely.
“Go get ready for bed,” I said quietly. Her blue eyes widened slightly. “And wait for me in our room.”
The words hung heavily between us. Our room. Chiara’s lips parted softly like she wanted to argue, but nothing came out this time. Good. Because if she kept fighting me while looking like this, I was eventually going to snap.
My thumb brushed lightly along her jaw once before I stepped away from her completely. Distance. I needed distance.
“Leo…” she whispered.
“I still have work to finish,” I said. Her shoulders loosened slightly in relief. That annoyed me more than it should have.
I grabbed my whiskey from the counter and headed back toward my office before I did something reckless like pinning her against the kitchen island and finally tasting that smart mouth again.
The next two hours were torture. I tried focusing on work. Numbers blurred together. Shipments. Meetings. Territory negotiations. Nothing held my attention for long because every thought circled back to Chiara waiting in my bed upstairs.
In my clothes. With my ring still wrapped around her finger. Fuck.
By the time I finally left my office, the penthouse had gone silent. The lights were dimmed low throughout the hallway, warm amber reflecting against black marble floors. Somewhere in the distance, the dishwasher hummed softly from the kitchen.
It felt like home. That dangerous word again.
