Page 86 of Reign

Then he looks at me. Fully this time.

“Adriana said you needed a place to stay.”

My lungs forget their function again.

No, no, no.

I stare at him. “I needed a place to stay. That does not mean your house. Hotels exist. Safe houses exist. Angelo and Santo collect property like some men collect watches. There were options.”

“This is the one Adriana chose.”

“Adriana is pregnant. She’s apparently decided that gives her the authority to rearrange my entire life.”

“She was very clear.”

“Adriana once thought it was appropriate to read my mother’s journal without asking, so forgive me if I don’t trust her judgment under emotional circumstances.”

His eyes remain on mine, steady and unreadable. Too unreadable. Too calm. Too aware.

“Well, you’re welcome here, Elena.”

My mouth parts.

The words don’t come out immediately, probably because all of them are inappropriate.

Then one finally does. “No.”

His brow lifts slightly. “No?”

“Yes, no. It’s a wonderful word. Very versatile. Underused in this family.”

“You haven’t even seen the house.”

“I’ve seen enough of it to know that you live inside.”

He smiles.

Barely.

Enough to make my pulse trip in the most irritating, traitorous way possible.

I point toward him. “Don’t look amused. This isn’t amusing.”

“It’s a little amusing.”

“I’m a person, not a package Adriana can ship to the nearest emotionally unavailable cartel executive.”

Something sharper enters his eyes. Less polite. More interested.

“Go inside. Call her. If you still want a hotel after she explains herself, I’ll take you to one.”

That is irritatingly reasonable.

I narrow my eyes. “You don’t get to suddenly become reasonable halfway through an argument.”

“Elena.”

My brain short-circuits for half a second. The accent. The softness. The warning. Then I recover. Badly.