Page 59 of Sinister Intentions

She caught me looking and arched a questioning brow.

I held her gaze and forced myself not to visibly react.Get a fucking grip, Salvini.Defiant tilt of her chin? Really?

By the time we reached the marina, I had managed to get my running thoughts back under control. At least, I thought I had.

But then, Jemma flashed Fee a smile—a real one—not the guarded looks or sarcastic smirks she usually aimed my way—and my breath caught in my throat.

And I was pretty positive I’d never had my breath catch in my throat. Ever.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Istrolled across the cabin of the luxurious yacht and joined Fee and Matt who were chatting and laughing on the comfortable couch. I stared through the glass at Alex and Vince talking outside before taking in the opulent surroundings.

The modern yacht suited Vince even though I didn’t think he gave two fucks about the interior of things like yachts, helicopters, or other luxury items.

He probably saw those things as just a means to an end.

I focused back on the conversation and studied Matt. His easy-going demeanor was a stark contrast to the intensity that seemed to radiate from his brother constantly.

Vince was honestly too intense to ever be considered charming. Or maybe he was able to turn up the charm; he just didn’t do it around me?

“So, Picca?” I asked and pointed at the pup in Matt’s lap.

Matt chuckled. “You should’ve seen Vince when he found her in the middle of the road.” He chuckled. “Guy acts like a totalhard-ass, but he stopped the car, got out, and scooped that little bloody furball up without a second thought.”

I glanced over at Vince, who had narrowed his brows and apparently was deep in conversation with Alex.

Even from a distance, I could sense the air of authority that surrounded him. Yet, the image of him shaking his ass, or cradling a helpless puppy softened that intimidating aura, if only for a moment.

“If he lets himself, Vince actually has a big heart,” Matt continued. “Especially when it comes to animals…or the people he cares about.”

As if sensing my gaze, Vince’s gaze flicked over to meet mine. The intensity in those dark eyes sent a shiver down my spine.

I quickly looked away, focusing on the gentle sway of the boat, the comfortable pillows of the couch, and on Matt, scratching Picca behind her ears. Another tattooed Mafia bad-boy who apparently had a soft spot for animals.

“You wouldn’t think it’s been only a couple of days since he had her,” he said and chuckled.

My head snapped up. “Only a couple of days?”

Matt nodded. “We picked her up on the way from your house to the helicopter.”

Huh. He’d been such an asshole that day. Dominant. Aggressive and infuriating, only to rescue Picca right after?

But why was I even surprised? I knew he could switch moods in the blink of an eye, so it made sense.

Just like his mood switched the moment he’d recognized Ivan Zotov, or the moment after he came back from their conversation.

What was the real nature of Vince’s connection to the infamous Ivan Zotov? They didn’t seem to be on friendly terms, but they didn’t try to kill each other either. So, what was going on between those two?

And what was going on between him and me? What was this undeniable pull I felt toward a man who represented everything I despised?

Who should represent everything I despised.

The sound of Vince’s deep voice carried over, his tone serious as he conversed with Alex while they both stepped inside.

Now that the sun was setting and with the cool autumn breeze, it must be freezing outside.

I strained to make out their words, but the distance and the sounds of the water and the boat made it impossible. Still, the mere sound of his voice was enough to send my thoughts spiraling once again.

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