Page 42 of The Devil's Secret

His palm falls to my knee, sliding up to my inner thigh. “The kind of torture I normally use on a woman, is the kind they beg for.”

His words slam hot in between my thighs, my heartbeat quickening, pussy clenching. I squeeze my knees to quench that ache he put there, but it’s no use. He has a strong effect on not only my body, but my heart. There’s nothing I could do to tame the wildness of my thirst for this man.

He notices my movement, a sultry grin captivating the corner of his mouth. His hand falls away as he goes to open the bag I have now forgotten about. He pulls out white containers, a few bottles of water, and some paper plates.

My stomach growls immediately as he reveals crepes, fruit, and croissants.

“My brother’s cook made all that.”

“I figured it wasn’t you,” I tease with a smile, the first real one I’ve had since I got here, his eyes beaming up at me.

He hands me a fork, then adds some food to the plate before giving me that too. He treats me better than what I’m used to. Locked in a cage with scraps for food is a lot less humane than this.

“I’m glad you’re in a better mood this morning.”

“Yeah, well.” I chew as I respond. “Don’t get that excited. It’s only ’cause I’m starving.”

He picks up a bottle, opening it before handing it to me. I guzzle half as soon as I grab it, placing it on the nightstand once I’m through.

“Continue to behave and I may consider letting you out of this room.” His tone is light and teasing.

“Is that so?” I cut into the blueberry crepe, stuffing a huge piece into my mouth. “And how shall I behave?”

“By not calling me an asshole for one.” He quirks a brow.

“I guess I can manage that.” I shrug, my mouth twitching. If I can get out of this room, my chances of getting out of this house are a lot better.

“Was that a real smile or are you playing me again?”

My mouth drops open in contrived disgust. “Wow. Low blow, Enzo. Real low.”

He chuckles, his big, strong palm landing on the top of my thigh and squeezing so deliciously, my insides quiver.

“Shut up and eat,” he drawls with a raspy beat, and I almost drop the fork from the electric shock that playful demand sends to every nerve ending on my body.

He keeps his hand there while I eat, like he can’t stand the thought of not touching me in some way. I move mine over his, liking this, and wanting more of it. Just touching him feels like it’s enough to remind me of the better days we once shared.

He closes his eyes, shaking his head, a harsh exhale falling from his chest, a battle storming within him. I can sense it brewing in the air. “I really thought you needed help,” he says. “That the Bianchis were hurting you, but I was wrong, wasn’t I? That was a game too?”

The change in mood whips me into reality, one where he’ll never forgive me. As soon as he lets his guard down, it’s like something comes back and reminds him he shouldn’t.

He gets to his feet, his hand no longer on me, and I miss it already—the warmth, the safety of it. Because no matter how dangerous he may be, being around him is the only time I ever feel safe.

He gives me his back as he heads for the door.

“Wait, Enzo. Just wait, okay? Please.” Remorse twines into my voice as he stops only inches away from leaving. I get off the bed too but stay far enough away where I can’t jump into his arms and cry into his chest, because that’s all I want to do right now.

“I didn’t play you. I—I really did care for you. It wasn’t a game.”

He slowly faces me, his expression stoic.

“You don’t have to believe what I said yesterday,” I continue. “But my situation, it’s complicated. There’s so much you don’t know about me, and you don’t want to know. If you knew, you’d never want me.” I pause, gathering the courage to continue. “And even if you did, I can’t be with you. I can’t have any more danger in my life. You’re a complication I can’t afford.”

He grasps the back of his neck. “Don’t judge me, Joelle. You don’t know what the Bianchis took from us. They’re the reason I am who I am. I never wanted this life either.”

The agony’s riddled there in his words. I can practically feel it coursing through his veins.

“I’m so sorry I caused you pain.” My heart shatters over what I did, over caring for someone who’ll never be mine.

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