Page 22 of Little Rabbit

We hang up, and I sit and stare out at the sea for another hour, my mind swirling with so many thoughts and issues until finally, the sun starts to set and I force myself to get up. I contemplate taking a dip in the pool, but I have shit to do so that’s going to have to wait. I head back inside, shutting and locking the doors behind me, and then I set out to find a shower.

I avoid the master suite, considering I don’t want to deal with whatever Branson has done there, and instead find a bedroom on the main floor that has a beautiful ensuite. It’s got a walk-in glass shower with a free-standing tub under the long, slim window on the outside wall. Thank god this place is as high up as it is or I’d have to worry about someone being able to see in.

I leave my bag on the bed and pull out some fresh clothes before heading back into the bathroom and stripping down to get in the shower. The water is refreshing and I stand there for a moment, letting it stream over my face as I try to calm my thoughts. I need to have a clear head before I start working on how to get a hold of Nico, and also deciding where I’m going next. Should I head back to the states to find his place? Or should I try and talk to him before I get there?

At the same time, I have to fight the urge to ignore it all and keep running. Or do I give up and wait for Alessio to find me? The man is far more dangerous than anyone else that might get a hold of me. After what happened a few days ago, it’s clear he is far better than what people have suggested. Even now, my body is still tender and sore, and bruises have formed in all the places he bit me, but instead of being fearful or pissed about it, the reminder only makes my blood heat.

Which is exactly why I can’t let him catch me. If Alessio catches me—and doesn’t kill me—I’m going to lose myself in him, and I never want that to happen. So I need to steer clear of him, and maybe some day, well after he’s found some other woman to fuck into a coma, I can approach him and we can find a way to be civil with each other. And who knows, maybe by then I’ll have found someone for myself and it won’t matter at all.

I finish my shower, determined to figure this out. I’m good at finding things online when I set my mind to it, so hopefully before I go to bed I can make headway. But first I need to get something to eat because I’m starving.

I walk out of the bathroom, drying my hair with my towel, and think that I should turn on the light now that it’s dark out and even darker in here. That’s when I hear, “Hello, coniglietto. Miss me?”

Fuck. He’s found me.

13

SIENNA

I freeze in place and lift my eyes to the opposite side of the room, seeing the very man I’m trying to avoid sitting on a chair in the shadows by the doors that lead outside to the patio. He’s wearing a simple black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm, showing off the his ink . No tie, a gold chain around his neck, black slacks, and shiny black shoes. He looks like a typical mafia man, and trepidation fills me. His dark eyes bore into me, and his mouth is quirked up into a smile that can only be called smug. But it’s the dark anticipation in his expression that has my heart starting to pound.

I slowly pull the towel from my hair, letting it hang from my fingers as I stare at him. “Caruso,” I return calmly. How the fuck did he find me so fast? I was so careful, and I know Branson didn’t put me on any social media. I thought I would have at least another twenty-four hours. Clearly not, and now I need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do. He’s not going to let me escape again.

He doesn’t move, just regards me for another moment. The silence between us is thick, and I refuse to be the first one to look away. After a few more tense seconds, he says, “You know, I have to hand it to you. You are far more clever than I thought. And incredibly stupid.” He gets to his feet, and gone is the relaxed version of him. In its place is the dangerous one that has me swallowing and subtly shifting to the balls of my feet. “Would you like to know why you are incredibly stupid, Sienna?” he asks silkily as he starts to prowl around the bed toward me in slow, steady steps.

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me, but personally, calling someone stupid is very insulting, Alessio,” I manage to deadpan, even as I try to gauge if I can make it to the door. I don’t want to be trapped in this room with him. It’s too small, too tight. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?”

“My mother was a useless whore whose name I will never utter for the rest of my life,” he informs me matter-of-factly as he gets closer. “She never taught me shit, that was all my father. And right now, cara mia, I don’t give a fuck if I insult you or not.”

“Pity,” I reply. Then I make a rush for the bedroom door, using every ounce of speed I have, and tossing the towel at his face to try and buy myself a couple precious seconds. But of course, luck is not on my side this time, and before I can reach it, he’s on me, shoving me hard against the wall, blocking any strikes I try to make against him, until he finally he pins me , his hand around my throat, and his body between my legs. I stare up into his dark eyes, my breathing erratic as I try to get myself under control.

I also try to ignore the heat that’s burning through me. The last time we were in this position, things turned out a lot differently, and I’m not unaffected by the memories. Considering the bulge pressing against me, neither is he. Chemistry really is a bitch.

His fingers flex on my throat as he leans in, his face so close to mine that I can’t mistake the anger, the triumph, and the dark desire all swirling around in the depths of his eyes. “Your days of running are over, Sienna,” he tells me softly, oh-so-softly that I have to fight back a shiver of trepidation. “As for what I said before, you are incredibly stupid for running into the arms of another man. For giving him your smile, for letting him hug you and feel your body against his. For leaving me to spend two days wondering if you were in his bed, letting him touch parts of you he has no right to touch.” His grip on my throat tightens even more, threatening to cut off my air supply completely. “No one gets to feel that but me. Ever. You belong to me.”

Maybe I am stupid, because fuck if I can help gasping out, “It’s probably not a good time to mention I’ve seen far more of Branson’s body than you’re going to like, huh? And I don’t belong to anyone but myself.”

His eyes flash with an unhinged rage, and I do have to fight fear this time. I might have pushed him a little too hard. My air is cut off, making me reach up and claw at his hand in reflex, even as I try not to panic. Oh fuck.

“That is where you are wrong, Sienna,” he hisses. “You belong to me. I can kill you in an instant if you push me hard enough. Do not mistake anything I’ve done up until now as weakness. I have been incredibly patient, but that ends today.” He loosens his grip just as dark spots start to impede my vision. I heave air desperately into my lungs, but he doesn’t back away.

The loss of oxygen to my brain is the only excuse I have for my next statement. “Fuck you, Alessio,” I rasp out. Yeah, see, now that was stupid, because the instant the words leave my mouth, I see the dark pleasure burn hotter in his eyes.

“Only since you asked so nicely, coniglietto,” he purrs, before his mouth comes crashing down on mine.

I try to resist him, biting and trying to buck him off me, but that only seems to drive him crazier, a dark laugh sounding as he yanks his mouth from mine and then leans down to deliver a hard bite to my jaw that has me hissing out in pain. “Motherfucker,” I snarl, anger replacing my fear, even as I try to shove down the desire that’s burning through me.

“Mmm, wrong again, cara mia,” he taunts as he presses himself tighter into my belly, and I’m still able to feel the heat of him through his slacks and my thin pajama shorts. I curse my body for being so turned on by all of this instead of cowering in fear, or at least giving me the will to get away from him. “I’m about to be a Sienna fucker in a minute. You have too many clothes in the way, cara mia.” The sound of a switchblade flipping open has me stilling. “How about we fix that now?” he purrs and I shudder.

The light from the bathroom reflects off the steel of the blade as he brings it up to show me, his eyes alive with a sick excitement. “Repaying the favor?” I grit out between clenched teeth, forcing myself to look away from it and back at him. Maybe this is the day I die after all.

“Now that you mention it…” He brings the knife swiftly to my neck, in the exact same place I put mine, dropping his other hand to reach into his pocket and grab his phone. I should be fighting, but I also know that one wrong move will end in my death. Instead, I wait, glowering at him as he snaps a few pictures. “You know, I think I’m going to have this framed,” he says casually as he tosses his phone back on the bed, the knife still completely steady on my neck. “A memento of our little courtship.”

“Courtship?” I repeat incredulously. “You’re insane, Alessio. We’ve done nothing of the sort.”

“No?” He turns the knife so that the tip presses into my skin, not enough to cut, but with enough pressure I don’t dare move. He starts to drag the blade down the line of my neck, the steel warm on my skin from the heat of my body. “You tease me with your quick wit, make me chase you all over Europe for the past week, and tempt me with this delicious body,” he continues as he moves it along my collarbone and over to the other side, making goosebumps pebble along my skin. “Why, Sienna, in my world, that’s akin to a marriage proposal. Which I graciously accept, of course.”

“And you say I’m insane,” I hiss.

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