Page 48 of Maddest Temptation

“Where are they?”

“What?” I frowned.

He opened his hand. “The drugs.”

My jaw dropped, and I had no idea what to do but stare at him. Cassio took my purse from my hand and opened it. I tried to fight him, but the bathroom was too small, and he was simply too big and powerful. He proceeded to remove the orange bottle and growled. His back was to me, but I could tell I had poked the bear with a very short stick.

He turned to face me showing me the bottle. “Why, Francesca?” Why did he sound so wounded?

“How would you even know?” I snapped still trying to figure it out.

“I watched you,” he said simply. “It wasn’t so hard to tell.”

“Y-you watched me?”

His nostrils flared; he hadn’t meant to admit that out loud. He took my hand in his and this time it was so gentle I was stunned into letting him hold it. He turned it so my palm was face up, with his thumb, he smoothed the indentations I’d left in them.

“You hurt yourself when you’re nervous,” he said, his voice was smooth and low. “Why?”

I looked into his pine-green eyes surprised to find they weren’t cold, but they weren’t blazing either. “It helps,” I confessed. “It numbs the need to use.”

“Yet, you did use.”

I looked away and pulled my hand back and pressed it tightly to my body ignoring the way it still tingled. “Why do you care?” I had asked this question so many times.

“Why do you think?” he snapped. “Fuck, Francesca, why do you think!”

“Cassio,” I said softly. “Open the door.”

“Not until you tell me why you used.”

I sighed in frustration. He wasn’t going to let me out and Marie and Vitelli probably suspected something was happening. I had two options, either tell him the truth or lie, and the second one would never work on Cassio Moretti. He could always read me easily.

I crossed my arms. “Because I was nervous. I needed to take some of the edge off.”

“Why were you nervous?” He took a step toward me, crowding my space. “Tell me, Principessa.”

I hated how the Italian endearment on his lips sounded so sexual and hot. How it made my legs quiver and the butterflies in my stomach flutter. I needed to kill those damned butterflies before they led me into trouble once again.

“I already answered your question, now let me go, Cassio. This is not funny.”

“I’m not laughing, am I?”

I rolled my eyes. He took yet another step closer, and I hit the counter. Cassio’s hands landed on either side of my hips. They were far from me, but still, I felt their heat burning my skin as though they were on me. He leaned down, a lock of hair falling over his eyes. I had the unnatural urge to rake my fingers through his hair, so I dug my nails into the palms of my hands.

“You’re doing it again,” he whispered, or at least it sounded like he was.

How did he know?

“I am always aware of you, Francesca, even when I shouldn’t. Even when I don’t want to.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Why are you so nervous?” He asked ignoring my question.

My head spun with the change in subject. His scent was invading my space, and I couldn’t think straight. My eyes darted to his lips, and I wanted nothing more than to end the distance between us and kiss him?—

“No,” I shook my head. “Get out, Cassio.”

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