Page 50 of The Devil's Pawn

There’s no one here but us. I might have let my men hear her, but they would never be allowed to see her. That’s all for me.

I take a step toward her, wanting nothing more than to strip off every shred of her clothes and show her what I truly want. But she’s drunk, and I swore to myself I’d stay away even if she weren’t.

She’s a Bianchi and I’m a Cavaleri. We’re sworn to hate each other.

But how can I hate someone so beautiful?

The beats of my heart can’t be tamed, not when she’s so close. The very essence of her soothes away the demons that haunt me, that tell me to make my enemies pay and make them all suffer. But it seems that now I’m the only one left suffering.

The woman I want is someone I’m not allowed to have, but that doesn’t seem to stop my heart from wanting her even more.

I want to tell her how sorry I am for pushing her away, to beg her to forgive me, but I can’t do that now. Not when she’s too drunk to remember.

“You’re so beautiful, Raquel. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Forever.

“Yours?”

She half laughs, half moans, her eyes falling to a slow close and her knees wobbling. She’s so pitifully drunk that it’s kind of adorable.

A smile finally appears on my face. I can feel it in my veins. That warmth you get when you feel good. She makes me feel that way.

“Let’s go, baby,” I tell her. “Let me get you to bed.”

“Will you be joining me, or did you find someone better?” she asks, her eyes on mine again.

“Give me your hand.” I stretch out my palm for hers, confused by her question.

Why would she think that? Because of breakfast yesterday? She thinks I’ve replaced her?

Shit.

Her fingers curl over mine, and as she takes a step down, she loses her footing, almost falling. But before she could land on her ass, I scoop her up, one arm under her knees, the other cradling her back. I stare down at her, and she looks up at me. I’m caught in the moment, my pulse throbbing louder.

“You’re cute,” she whispers, and I taste the alcohol on her breath like it’s my own.

“I thought we already established that I was hot?” I tease as my lips lower.

Her breathing is ragged and uneven. “Whennn did we estabish that?”

“You mean establish?” I grin.

“Yeah, that.” She purses her lips to stifle a giggle.

“Oh, baby. I don’t think you’d remember even if I told you.”

“Mmmnot that drrrunk,” she purrs, eyelids fluttering with every slurred word.

“Come on, my drunk mess of a wife. I think it’s bedtime.”

I carry her out of the room, climbing up the stairs, and she loops her arms around my neck.

“You’re so strong,” she sighs.

I flex my biceps on instinct, enjoying the attention and that lustful look in her eyes.

“Why the fuck did you have to be drunk?” I practically growl, my cock chafing up the inside of my jeans.

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