Page 71 of Sinister Intentions

Before I knew it, Matt and Hero got up and rounded the table. They pulled back my chair, Dante helped me stand, and all three of them circled their arms around me and used me as the center point of some kind of group hug, laughing, piling on the jokes, and teasing Vince mercilessly.

All I could do was stare at them.

“I really, really like you, Jemma Donnelly,” Dante declared with a grin.

“You’re the first woman who’s not falling head over heels for our dear ‘Vince the Evil Prince’,” Hero said with a barely suppressed chuckle.

“See, I told you,” Matt said and winked at me.

I could feel Vince stare a hole in my head.

I shouldn’t have said anything. Didn’t I just decide I needed to keep my distance?

Taking digs at him was not that.

Even though his brothers loved it.

I extricated myself and took back my seat while they tried to outdo one another by finding words rhyming with Vince and finally fell into a playful banter like only siblings could.

Vince put up a brave front. He was all easy smiles and snarky digs toward his brothers while casting nasty glances in my direction.

He did not appreciate the honesty despite holding his own, seemingly undisturbed by the banter.

Was I the only one who could feel the tension radiating off him?

He glowered at me again from across the table, his jaw clenched tight.

I shrugged. I shouldn’t have said what I said, but he clearly had no sense of humor when it came to being the butt end of a joke.

He definitely needed to learn to loosen up a little.

That was probably what made pushing his buttons even more appealing for his brothers.

And for me.

On top of the rush of adrenaline that came with butting heads with him.

When his brothers finally settled down, his eyes never left me, and his dark gaze slithering over me sent tingles racing across my skin.

It was equal parts exhilarating and unnerving.

And when his attention on me became suffocating in its intensity, I jumped up and excused myself to use the bathroom.

Once inside, I caught a glimpse of my flushed cheeks in the mirror, my chest still heaving slightly from the regret but also from the thrill of our verbal and non-verbal sparring.

I splashed some water on my face, then took a deep breath to calm my racing heart. Being in the same room as Vince was exhilarating, stupid, and dangerous. But seeing him with his brothers, and butting heads—I couldn’t deny the rush it gave me.

Pure adrenaline.

Feeling slightly more composed, I left the bathroom and made my way back but paused before entering and observed the lively scene at the table through the doorway.

They all looked so comfortable with each other. Everyone—except Petra.

I looked sideways along the corridor toward the entrance hall where a couple of men in black suits were positioned. The interior decoration of the house was…different, to word it nicely. But it was an interesting building, with a lot of closed doors.

The pull of curiosity was too strong to resist, and since Mr. Salvini had left earlier and everyone else was occupied, it would be safe enough. So instead of rejoining the group, I decided to do a little snooping around the Salvini mansion.

The first door I opened led to a gently lit library, which was simply amazing. I looked upwards, expecting a ceiling, but instead, I stared at beautiful ornamental skylights. The room spanned at least two stories to house the towering shelves lined with rows and rows of books.

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